I started rubbing myself slowly, real slow. The thick head of Rodrigo's cock slid between my pussy lips, brushing the wet, sensitive flesh, sending long shivers crawling up my thighs and spreading through my belly like lava. The heat was building, insistent, invading every inch of my body. And Diego was right there, frozen, panting, his eyes drilled into me with a burning intensity. That shit made me even wetter, more surrendered, bolder than I'd ever dreamed I could be.
My body was already begging to sit down on it, pleading for it. I was so close, damn close, when a memory yanked me back to reality. I turned my face to Rodrigo, my breath ragged.
— You got a condom?
He stared at me for a second and shook his head, saying nothing.
— Fuck… seriously? How do you come over here without…? — I bitched out loud, couldn't hold back the frustration, cutting the sentence short.
I got up from the bed, my body still shaking from horniness and irritation all mixed up. I went to my backpack, yanked open the zipper in a rush, and grabbed the little tube of lube I always kept hidden. I popped the cap with my teeth, squeezed a good glob onto my fingers, and started spreading it on my asshole. Slow, careful, feeling the cold gel warm up against my hot skin, circling gently until I was all slick and ready.
I climbed back on top of Rodrigo in the same position as before: facing away from him, but straight on toward Diego. I wanted him to see every damn detail: Me giving my ass to another guy.
And this time, I sat down.
Slow. Real slow. Feeling every inch of his cock invading me, stretching me open, filling me with a pressure that was uncomfortable and delicious all at once. The hot sting mixed with the pleasure so perfectly I couldn't tell where one ended and the other started. It was all one thing, intense, overwhelming.
I closed my eyes and let out a long moan, feeling the pain and pleasure, giving myself completely to the motion. I rode him slow at first, feeling him slide all the way in, then almost all the way out, and back in. Repeating it, slow, deep, deeper and harder each time. My body demanded it and I obeyed, the pressure building inside me, the heat rising in waves that made my skin tingle.
Then I opened my eyes.
My gaze went straight to him.
To Diego. Right there in front of me, hand still on his cock, eyes glued to me as he jerked off.
Because of me.
For me.
Knowing I was driving him wild without even touching him made me even crazier with lust. My pussy throbbed empty, soaked, while I rode faster, not breaking eye contact. And he didn't even blink. In that moment, I was the center of his fucking universe, and it set me on fire inside.
I slid off Rodrigo with my body still blazing and lay on my side on the bed, one leg bent, the other stretched out, right in front of Diego. Rodrigo came up behind me, silent, grabbed my hips hard, and slammed in all at once. His cock plunged deep, forceful, ripping a hoarse moan from my throat.
— Come on, Rodrigo… fuck me… pound it harder… — I begged between moans, fingers digging into the mattress.
He didn't hesitate. No mercy. He hammered my asshole with everything he had, each thrust deeper, rougher, exactly how I wanted it right then. The fast rhythm made my body shake, the pleasure piling up in layers that threatened to swallow me whole.
My hand shot straight to my clit, fingers finding my swollen little nub, slick with built-up horniness and anticipation. I started rubbing fast, in circles, pressing harder and harder, each stroke sending hot shocks up my spine and exploding in my gut. My body begged for more, for release, for that inevitable crash. I needed to cum, needed to shatter completely.
And through all of it, my eyes stayed locked on him.
On Diego.
He was there, leaning against the wall, chest heaving, hand jerking his cock wilder by the second. Low groans escaped rough and almost silent, but I heard them clear as day—they were just for me, a guttural rumble hanging in the air between us. Seeing him lose it like that, jerking off in desperation while another guy fucked me from behind… it lit me up inside. The lust turned into a fever that burned every nerve, every thought. I felt exposed, wanted, powerful and vulnerable all at once.
My hand sped up on its own, fingers sliding soaked between my lips, pressing my clit with an intensity that edged into pain, but it only cranked the pleasure higher. I wasn't in control anymore. My body moved on instinct, muscles clenching in involuntary spasms.
I let out a muffled moan that turned into a choked scream. I came. Hard. My eyes rolled back, vision going dark for a second. The orgasm hit in violent waves, deep contractions ripping through my gut, thighs, and chest. Each pulse was like an electric shock that arched my back, made me shake uncontrollably, my inner muscles squeezing in rhythmic spasms around nothing. My whole body convulsed, sweat trickling down my neck, back, between my tits. I couldn't stop trembling, the pleasure ripping through me like a current with no break.
Even then, Rodrigo didn't stop. He kept pounding with brutal force, hands clamped on my waist like claws, rhythm relentless. Each thrust made my tits bounce, the pleasure mixing with the echoes of my last orgasm. And then came that final thrust. Hard. Deep. He let out a rough groan right in my ear, the sound vibrating against my skin, and I felt it all.
His hot cum shot inside me all at once, flooding my asshole with thick, pulsing heat, almost scalding. Each spurt filled me more, marked me deep inside, then oozed out slow, thick and sticky, coating my ass cheeks, dripping down my thighs in hot trails that prickled my sensitive skin. I loved that feeling of being totally taken, filled to the brim, used raw and shameless. The inner warmth spread, blending with the lingering throb of my own pleasure, leaving me limp, satisfied, and still hungry.
Rodrigo pulled his cock out slow. My asshole stayed there, gaping, sloppy, dripping slow, throbbing with the last spasms. The cool air brushed the exposed, tender flesh, sending a long shiver up my spine.
My body was still shaking. But my mind… my mind was already somewhere else.
On Diego.
Rodrigo got up from the bed, panting, chest heaving. I stayed lying on my side, staring at Diego. He didn't look away. His gaze was pure possession, raw desire, a mix of anger and lust that made my heart race again.
The deal was he'd just watch. But I wanted more. I wanted to feel him truly owning me, claiming me like I was only his.
And I broke the rules.
— Come here… — I said low, voice hoarse, barely any breath, heart pounding against my ribs.
And he came.
With that hungry look that cut me in half, he stared like I was his thing. There was total possession there, a fire that consumed everything, and an anger I could feel pulsing in the air between us, like my surrender to Rodrigo had ripped open a wound that needed to be sealed with force.
— Fuck… I'm dying to fuck you — he growled, voice rough tearing through the silence, his cock throbbing visibly, thick and swollen with a desire that couldn't be contained anymore.
— Then fuck me — I begged, gasping, no shame, no pride, just raw need.
I wanted him possessing me for real, ripping away any last doubt about who owned my body and my heart.
— Arch that ass.
I obeyed right away. Of course I did. It was instinct, surrender, what I always knew I'd do for him.
I propped myself on the bed, knees sinking into the mattress, elbows firm, ass lifted high, totally exposed. The wetness trickled slow down my inner thighs, cool air teasing the sensitive flesh and making me tremble with anticipation and fear all mixed.
He came. And he came hard.
No warning, his open hand came down violent on my ass cheek. The slap cracked loud, echoing like thunder in the room. I screamed right then—a scream from deep in my chest, half shock, half sharp pain spreading across my skin. It burned deep, throbbed hot, scorched my soul. It hurt for real. But in the middle of that pain came the twisted pleasure I knew so well, the pleasure of being his in that wild way, dominated like my body was made to belong to him.
Right after, no gentleness, he shoved two fingers in my ass. Deep, straight in, no prep. The sudden invasion arched my back, a muffled moan escaping as I bit my lips hard to keep from screaming louder. I could feel Rodrigo's cum still hot inside, and his fingers moving slow, opening me up more.
— You're all cum-soaked, girl… — he murmured, voice low and loaded with contempt and desire at once. — All stretched out. That's what you like, huh?
The words sliced into me like a knife. They set me on fire. Humiliated me. And I loved every fucking syllable.
He turned to Rodrigo, who was standing against the wall, silent and distant.
— You know your girlfriend's a little slut, right?
The mockery was cruel, on purpose, poking his wound. Rodrigo didn't answer. He didn't need to. His silence hurt more than any words.
Diego turned back to me. Fingers still buried deep, moving slow.
— Tell him. Come on… tell him you're my little slut.
— I am… I'm your little slut. And he knows it — I answered without thinking, voice shaking with emotion and truth. It was true. Always had been. And saying it out loud hurt and freed me at the same time.
He gave me two more slaps. One on each side. Hard. Cracking. The skin burned again, the sting spreading in hot waves that filled my eyes with tears. I squeezed my eyes shut, bit my lower lip until I tasted salty blood. I tried to take it. And I did. Because taking it proved I was his.
— Slut… whore… bitch… cunt… — his mouth spat insults between slaps, each word landing like a blow that marked me inside.
And as crazy as it sounds, that made me even wetter, more vulnerable, more desperate for him. My pussy throbbed from the inside out, empty and drenched, begging for more humiliation, more possession, more pain turning to pleasure.
He grabbed my hair with brutal force, yanked back until my whole back arched. My scalp burned deliciously. Moaning, I wanted just one thing: for him to take me now, to erase any part of me that wasn't his.
— Now take it, slut… I'm gonna fuck you.
And he did. With everything. No mercy.
The first thrust was deep, brutal, bending my whole body like he wanted to split me in two. He owned me instantly, claimed me like I'd always been his, each thrust a punishment. Every follow-up came harder, angrier, loaded with lust and a pain I felt in my chest as much as my body. His cock plunged to the bottom, slamming hard, filling every inch with pressure that mixed unbearable pain and overwhelming pleasure.
I moaned out of control. Bit the sheet, teeth sunk in the damp fabric of spit and tears. My hands clutched the mattress in desperation to not collapse under the weight of that pleasure stabbing through me like a knife.
— Yeah, fuck me… — I moaned loud, couldn't hold back, voice breaking. — Fuck me harder…
I heard him roaring behind me, rough, uncontrolled groans, the sound of a man who'd lost everything else, existing only to possess me. The rhythm sped up, hips slapping my ass with force that made the bed creak and my heart break a little more.
And then he came.
I felt the first spurt invade my ass with violence. Hot, thick, almost boiling. It shivered everything inside, like it burned the inner walls and marked every piece of me. More came quick, heavy jets that overflowed, oozing slow down my ass, dripping down my thighs in hot, sticky trails that coated my whole skin.
It wasn't just cum. It was him. All of him pouring into me, marking territory with every drop. Like he was saying, no words needed: “You're mine. Always were. Always will be.”
My body gave out completely. My legs lost all strength. I collapsed face-down on the bed, limp, heart hammering in my chest like it wanted to escape, breath ragged and uneven, hot tears streaming down my face without me noticing when they started.
I was all fucked. All his. And deep down, all broken inside.
I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye and turned my head. Rodrigo was already getting dressed. Silent, looking sad and unsatisfied.
— You leaving? — I asked, still lying there, voice weak and hoarse.
— I think I'm the odd one out here — he replied, not meeting my eyes, voice low and heavy with a sadness that stabbed me like a knife.
I sat up slow, legs wobbly shaking under the weight of my body and the guilt starting to pile on. I went to him.
— Stay… please. You know I adore you, right? — I said, looking straight into his eyes, begging with my gaze as much as my words.
He didn't answer. Just stared at me for a long second, eyes shining with something I didn't want to name.
I stepped closer slow, pressed my lips to his in a soft, gentle peck, almost pleading, like that touch could fix what I'd broken.
— Stay… please. I'm asking — I insisted soft, voice trembling. And I meant it because I really liked him. Because even after all that, he still mattered.
And that's when, believe it or not, even Diego spoke up.
— Stay, man. She's your girlfriend… if anyone's extra here, it's me — he said, half-laughing, half-serious, letting out a short chuckle to lighten the heavy air, but it only made the silence after thicker.
Rodrigo took a deep breath and gave a slight nod. It looked like a yes, and it was enough. But deep down, nothing was fixed.
And that little nod was all it took. A small, almost unnoticeable gesture, but it eased the weight I didn't even know was crushing my chest.
Right then, a massive thirst hit me. My body was still burning, skin hot, blood rushing too fast in my veins. I asked, trying to sound casual:
— You guys want anything? Hungry? Thirsty?
Only Diego answered, in his usual lazy-bossy way:
— A ice-cold Coke would hit the spot.
I went to the kitchen. Grabbed the soda bottle, three chilled glasses from the freezer, and tossed some packs of filled cookies on an improvised tray. The cold floor crept up my bare feet, contrasting the heat still pulsing in my gut. Each step made my thighs rub together, reminding me of what had just gone down in there.
When I got back to the room, the two of them were sitting on the bed. Sitting. Laughing about something. The air felt lighter, shoulders less tense. Diego slouched against the headboard, Rodrigo with legs crossed, chatting like nothing happened. Like they hadn't just shared my body minutes ago.
I thought: “Good. At least it's chilling out.” And I felt real relief, the kind that opens your chest a bit.
Diego saw me come in and hit me with his sharp tongue as always:
— Fuck, Rafa… your boyfriend just told me he's a Vasco fan.
He burst out laughing loud, over-the-top, the kind he used to fill any awkward silence. Slapping his thigh, eyes gleaming with mockery.
— For real, man? VASCO? — he repeated, turning to Rodrigo with a dramatic face, like he'd uncovered the scandal of the year.
— Come on, Diego… respect the guy — I said laughing, and chucked a pillow at him hard. He threw up his arm to block, laughing even more, proud of his jab.
Rodrigo just shook his head slow, that shy little smile on his lips. The smile of someone who knows he'll get teased forever, but deep down doesn't care. Or pretends not to.
We sat there on the bed, all three of us. Sipping ice-cold Coke, the fizz tickling our throats. Sharing the filled cookies, crumbs falling on the messed-up sheets. Talking dumb shit: soccer, some stupid show on TV, an old joke nobody really laughed at but we all pretended to. It was like we were trying to rebuild a normal that never really existed.
But then I glanced at the clock on the wall. My parents were due back soon. Time had flown without me noticing.
I walked them to the gate. Quick goodbyes, short hugs, a light kiss on Rodrigo's cheek, a shoulder slap for Diego. They walked off side by side, talking low, and I watched till they disappeared around the corner.
I went back to my room alone. Closed the door. Sat on the edge of the bed and just stayed there, kinda spaced out, confused. Their smell still hung in the air: sweat, sex, mixed perfume, spilled Coke. I tried to sort my thoughts, but they scattered.
I thought about heading to my cousins' place, like I did when I needed to escape myself. But I didn't have the energy. I ended up staying. Took a quick shower, threw on an old nightgown, and crashed.
When I turned off the light and closed my eyes, my body was still there, reliving it all. Every touch came back with painful clarity: Rodrigo's firm hand on my waist, his restrained affection; Diego's rough voice spitting words that hurt and ignited at once; the weight of bodies, the moans, the looks that said more than any sentence. It was like the whole afternoon was etched into my skin.
Pleasure. Guilt. Desire. Fear. All tangled in a mess I couldn't untangle.
Maybe that was it.
The fear of having liked it too much.
The guilt of loving every second of that madness.
Because deep down, a part of me already knew: after that afternoon, I'd never be the same. Something had broken. Or maybe something had been born. And I didn't know yet which scared me more.