What I Saw When My Best Friend Slept Over

Another day of vacation was shaping up to be a drag, and my body was still too awake. I’d spent two nights sleeping badly, replaying that afternoon in the cove with the stranger whose name I no longer even remembered. Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel his cock splitting me open against the cold shower tiles again, his hand clamped over my mouth so I wouldn’t scream, and the stream of his cum running down the inside of my thigh. The phone buzzed on the nightstand and I jumped. It was Daniela. After that weird summer between us, after the pool and after never mentioning it again, her message was one of the old ones again: a dumb meme and a “tell me something.”

I replied that I was bored out of my mind and invited her over. At six on the dot I had her in the building entrance, wearing a strappy top and denim shorts. I was in my usual around-the-house clothes: one of my father’s loose shirts and sweatpants. We flopped onto the living room sofa with the TV on some random movie and started talking about what really mattered.

—Want to know where I went the other day? —I said, fiddling with the remote.

—No idea. Give me a clue.

—I took the bus.

—You went downtown.

—Colder, colder.

—To the coast?

—Warmer.

—To the beach.

—Bingo.

I told her the whole scene: the couple arguing, the girl storming off angry, the guy who came over later under the pretense of sunscreen and ended up smearing my tits with his fingers over the top of my bikini. When I got to the shower stall part, her eyes widened.

—You fucked him.

—More like he fucked me. He had me against the wall, my feet barely touching the floor. He ripped my bikini bottoms off in one yank and shoved his cock all the way in without asking.

—You’re such a slut —she laughed—. And how was it?

—He was huge, huge. He was pounding me from bottom to top, both hands on my ass, like he wanted to split me open. I came twice. The second time I was almost biting his shoulder so I wouldn’t scream. He knew what he was doing, I swear. And he came outside, all over my stomach and thighs. I had to get under the shower stream to wash it off.

—Fuck. Lucky you, then. Since I broke up with Andrés I haven’t done anything with anyone.

—Something will come up.

—I don’t know. And hey, what about Hugo?

—We’re on kind of a break, on my side.

—Right. How many have you fucked since you’ve been with him?

—Only three. Not counting you.

There was a weird silence, the kind that always showed up when that came to the surface. Daniela looked away toward the screen and scratched her knee.

—That was just a heat-of-the-moment thing —she muttered—. You know girls aren’t my thing.

—Relax. Nothing’s going to happen that you don’t want.

She gave me a long hug. She smelled like coconut and cheap shampoo. When I pulled away, I realized it was night already and I was stupidly hungry.

—Are you staying over? Like when we were fourteen?

—Okay, give me a minute to call home.

***

We started making dinner together. When my father walked through the apartment door, he froze in the entryway, the keys still hanging from his finger.

—You must be Daniela?

—The one and only. Hello, Mr. Eduardo.

—Well, I’ll be damned. I remember you like this —he said, holding his hand at waist level—. How many years has it been since you were last here?

—Too many. I grew up a bit.

—Enough for me not to recognize you if I passed you in the street.

—Dad, can she stay tonight?

—Of course, sweetheart. You know she can.

My father worked Monday through Saturday delivering supplies to bars and restaurants all along the coast. He barely set foot in the apartment except to eat dinner and collapse into bed. He’d separated from my mother four years earlier, and since then, as far as I knew, he hadn’t been with anyone. He was forty-six, with a stocky body that was starting to lose its waistline and a head of hair that was still hanging on, though with less and less conviction. He wasn’t the kind of man who picked up women on terrace bars. And yet there was something in the way he moved, in the way his voice dropped when he was serious, that carried authority without ever needing to raise it.

I’d sliced some cured meat and made a salad. Nothing fancy. Daniela sat across from us, my father beside me. While we talked about the new shopping center they were going to build next to the harbor, I couldn’t help noticing the neckline of my friend’s top. Her breasts were on blatant display every time she leaned over her plate. And I remembered, against my will, the pool water, her hands searching for me under my swimsuit, her fingers parting the lips of my cunt while we pretended we were just playing, the heat neither of us wanted to admit to the next day.

Then I turned my head toward my father. He had his fixed exactly in the same place as I did. I kicked him under the table. He looked at me, startled, and dropped his eyes to his plate without saying a word.

How can you be so filthy? She’s the same age as your daughter. You watched her grow up.

Luckily, or so I thought then, Daniela didn’t seem to notice anything.

After dinner, my father went to the living room with a coffee and we cleared away the dishes. In my room I made up the fold-out bed for her and handed her a set of my pajamas: a loose shirt and cotton shorts. We turned off the light around one in the morning.

***

I woke up with a dry throat and the strange feeling that something was off. Daniela’s bed was empty. I thought she might have gotten up to use the bathroom, but ten minutes passed and she didn’t come back. I left the room without turning on any lights.

At the end of the hallway, from the kitchen, whispers were coming. A man’s voice and a woman’s voice. I pressed myself against the wall and covered the last few meters almost without breathing.

—It really hurt to find out that way, you know? —she was saying.

—Boys at that age only think about one thing.

—Yeah, but I didn’t expect him to cheat on me too.

They were talking about Andrés. About the message that had gone to Daniela by mistake and was meant for another girl.

—That’s just people’s nature. I never did that to Marina’s mother. She, on the other hand…

My father left the sentence hanging. I pressed my fingers to my temple. That had cost me two years of therapy and another two years of not speaking to my mother. For him to let that slip like that, with his daughter’s best friend at two in the morning, tightened something in my chest.

—I just have bad luck —said Daniela—. It’s the second time it’s happened to me.

—I don’t understand how anyone could do that to a girl like you.

—You’re just saying that.

—I mean it.

—It means a lot coming from you.

—Why from me?

—Because you already have experience, you know what I mean.

—Well, thanks for calling me old.

—Oh, that wasn’t what I meant.

There was a pause. I imagined them standing still, measuring each other.

—Can I ask you something? —she said.

—Go ahead.

—Have you ever been with someone a lot younger than you?

—My ex-wife was five years younger. If that counts.

—No, no. Much younger. Someone my age, for example.

The silence stretched. It was the silence of someone trying to get out of something cleanly and not finding the way.

—I shouldn’t be telling you this, being my daughter’s best friend and all, but since I broke up with her mother I haven’t been with anyone.

—Interesting. Don’t you feel like it?

—Of course I do. Between work and Marina, it just doesn’t happen.

—Opportunities come when you’re not expecting them.

I could feel my pulse racing in my temple. Is he really going to do it? Is he really going to try? And the question that scared me most: if he did, was I going to go in there and stop him? I suspected the answer and I didn’t like it.

—That kind of thing happens to boys your age —he insisted, his voice a little rougher than usual—. Men like me don’t get that anymore.

—Why not?

—It’s just how life goes. Desire fades.

—Doesn’t look faded at dinner. You were staring at my tits like you’d never seen any before.

—You’re not wrong.

Another silence. This one was different, thick. Curiosity got the better of me and I peeked around the corner of the door. I saw Daniela with her back to me, her shirt pushed up over her shoulders and her breasts exposed. My father, seated on the kitchen counter stool, was looking at them as if they were the only things that existed in that kitchen. The bulge over his pants was obvious, a thick line pushing the fabric upward.

I hid again. My heart was hammering against my ribs.

—My God, girl.

—Do you like them?

—Like is too weak a word.

—Come touch them. I want to feel your hands.

I didn’t need to look to imagine what was happening. I heard the rustle of fabric, the changed breathing, a soft moan. I forced myself to peek again. My father had one breast in each hand, weighing them, squeezing them, lifting them so he could lower his mouth and suck her nipples one after the other. Daniela offered herself by leaning back, pressing them into his face.

—So soft… —he murmured—. I’ve never had any like this. So firm, fuck. Your nipples get hard as rocks.

—Aaah, careful.

—Sensitive nipples?

—I wasn’t expecting you to pinch them.

—I want to bite them. I want to suck them until you ask me to stop.

—Do it.

I watched him bite them, first one and then the other, mouth open, teeth working. Daniela clung to my father’s neck and arched her hips forward, searching for something with her pelvis. He freed one hand and slipped it inside the shorts of her pajamas.

—You’re wet, aren’t you?

—Since dinner.

—Soaked. It’s running down your thighs, slut.

—Don’t call me that.

—Would you prefer whore?

—I’d prefer you not stop.

I was beyond myself. How could they be about to do it with his daughter fifteen feet away, asleep. And yet my legs were still nailed in the hallway, and part of me that I didn’t want to acknowledge was beginning to tighten inside every time I heard Daniela’s voice break.

—Maybe we should stop —she said suddenly—. Marina might hear us.

—If she’s asleep, not even an earthquake would wake her.

—Let me go check.

—Whatever you want. I’ll wait for you in the living room. We’ll be more comfortable there.

I got back down the hallway as best I could, avoiding the boards that creaked, and climbed into bed on my back with my eyes closed. I counted to twenty. I heard the door open slowly. I felt Daniela’s footsteps stop a meter from me. She stayed there for a good while, looking at me.

What is she thinking right now? I wondered what face I would have made in her place.

Then I heard her walk away and close the door behind her.

***

I waited long enough for them to think I was asleep and slipped out again. I moved barefoot down the hallway. The little lamp in the living room was on at its lowest setting. The door was ajar.

I peeked in.

My father was sitting in the three-seat armchair with his legs apart and his pants around his ankles. I saw his cock for the first time in my life and I ran out of breath: it was thick, hard, veined, the head reddened, resting against his belly. Daniela was kneeling between his knees, one hand holding the base and the other resting on his thigh. My friend’s mouth moved up and down in a slow rhythm I knew very well. I’d seen her practice with a banana one silly afternoon when we were fourteen, when we were still both virgins and thought it was funny.

This wasn’t a banana now. She swallowed him halfway, came back up, spat saliva over the head, and went back down. Her tongue traced the whole length from his balls to the tip, and she took them into her mouth, one first, then both. She sucked his cock with her mouth open, letting a thick strand of saliva drip from her lips down onto my father’s balls.

—You’re so good at that —he said, thick-tongued—. You can tell you’ve practiced. Take it all. All the way in. That’s it, to the back.

He gathered her hair up with one hand so he could see her face better. I saw her lips shining with spit. I saw the slight tremble in my father’s hand as he held the back of her neck, pushing her head down, forcing her to take his cock down her throat. Daniela made a guttural noise, soft gagging sounds, and tears started to gather in her eyes. She didn’t stop. She plunged her mouth down again until her nose touched his pubic bone.

I remembered, against my will, all the times that same hand had brushed my hair before school when I was little. I swallowed. I felt my nipples stiffen against my shirt and realized, without meaning to, that I had started pressing my thighs together.

—Stop. Stop or I’ll come and I don’t want to yet.

Daniela obeyed at once. She stayed kneeling, his cock shining with saliva brushing her lips, panting, as if waiting for permission.

—That’s what I like. Stand up.

He got up and stripped off the pants completely. My friend, facing him, let him pull her shirt up over her head. My father’s big hands traced her neck, her breasts, her waist, the start of her hips. When he reached the edge of her shorts, he hooked his thumbs inside and yanked them down. Daniela stood completely naked. The desk lamp carved out her ribs and the line of her thighs.

—Everything’s where it should be —he murmured—. Blessed youth.

—That’s not the only thing that’s where it should be —she said, grabbing his cock with her hand and stroking it slowly.

—I see you shave.

—You never know.

—Spread your legs. I want to see your pussy.

Daniela opened herself for him, putting one foot on the armrest of the chair. I watched my father lower his head and run his whole tongue over her, from bottom to top, then bury it between her lips. My friend grabbed his hair and started moaning softly.

—Suck me. There, there. Put it in me.

He ate her out without hurry, his tongue deep inside, with two fingers going in and out at the same time. Daniela began moving her hips against his mouth, rubbing herself all over his face. When my father pulled away, his chin and lips were shining with her wetness.

—You’re dripping, girl.

—Fuck me already. I can’t take it anymore.

What happened next should not have happened in front of my eyes. My father lifted her off the floor, holding her by the thighs. Daniela wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. He stood steady for a moment, used his hand to guide himself, lined the head of his cock up with her entrance, and lowered her slowly onto him. I watched her sink down centimeter by centimeter, swallowing his cock whole. Daniela let out a muffled moan against his shoulder.

—Shhh —he said—. All the way in. Yes, like that. You’re so tight, fuck.

He barely kept it up for a minute, holding her in the air and driving into her with short thrusts. Then he fell backward into the armchair with her on top of him. Daniela ended up sitting on him, still buried all the way in, catching her breath.

—So good —she gasped—. Now it’s my turn.

She started riding him slowly. She rose to the limit, until his cock almost slipped out, then dropped herself down hard until her ass hit my father’s thighs. With every downward stroke she let out a new moan. She ran her hands through her own hair, throwing it back, and sped up. Her tits bounced right in front of his face.

—You’re taking it so well —he panted—. Fuck my cock. Like that, no fear.

My father held one breast in one hand and marked the rhythm at her hip with the other, helping her go up and down. His mouth searched for her nipples, sucking them, biting them, tugging at them with his teeth. Daniela muffled her cries against his shoulder. The wet slap of their bodies, the sticky sound of cock going in and out, the creak of the armchair.

I was frozen in the doorway. My stomach had tightened to a point between disgust and something else I didn’t want to name. I felt my legs go taut, my breathing short. Without realizing it, my hand had slid inside my sweatpants and found my pussy soaked through. One finger. Two. I ran them over my clit, very slowly, the shame stuck in my throat. Something was knotting itself lower down, against all logic.

Daniela sped up. She turned around on him without losing him inside and ended up on all fours on the sofa, braced on her arms, her back to me. My father knelt behind her and grabbed her waist. He started fucking her from behind, with hard, dry thrusts that made her move forward over the cushion. His hand slid down her spine and landed a slap on her ass. Then another. The red imprint of his fingers burned itself into my retina.

—Harder —Daniela begged into the cushion, her voice breaking—. Break me. Deeper.

My father grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled back to lift her face. He was pumping into her with both hands anchored on her hips, his pelvis slamming into her ass with a dull, repeating thud. His balls kept striking her clit again and again. I was squeezing my nipples through my shirt with my free hand and biting my lip so I wouldn’t moan.

—I’m going to come —she panted—. I am, I am.

—Hold on. Come with me inside you. I want to feel it.

He turned her around again, laid her on her back on the armchair, threw her legs over his shoulders, and went back in all the way. He was kissing her mouth while he fucked her folded in half. He gave one breast a light slap, then another. He bit a nipple. She arched back and let out a cry that got trapped in her throat. I watched her shake all over, once, twice, three times, feet pointing to the ceiling and fingers clawing at the cushions. A clear trickle ran down the inside of her thigh and stained the armchair fabric.

I came too, stifling the gasp against my shoulder, two fingers sunk inside me and my thumb on my clit. My knees gave out and I had to brace myself on the doorframe.

Daniela collapsed onto his chest. My father kept thrusting from below, with strokes shorter and more erratic every second. After a few moments he yanked out, grabbed his cock with his hand, and came across her stomach and tits in long white ropes that splattered all the way to her chin. Daniela gathered a little semen from his chest with her finger and brought it to her mouth.

After a few still seconds, Daniela brought her lips to my father’s ear and whispered something I will never know. Then she sat up and turned her head.

Her gaze cut diagonally across the living room and locked onto mine.

She had found me out.

She didn’t startle. She didn’t warn my father. She didn’t cover anything. She held my gaze for a long second, with that small smile I’d seen before. Then, never taking her eyes off me, she dropped to her knees on the floor, took my father’s cock still shining with her own juices and the semen left on it, and put it back in her mouth. This time without rushing, sucking it all, licking it from top to bottom, ready to take it to the end.

To be continued…