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Background:
Our relationship was the kind people would often question, the kind that blurs the lines between mentor and mentee, the kind that makes others turn their heads when we walk together. After all, the warm tone of your skin against my ivory-colored, stiff body feels quite contrasting, don’t you think? Perhaps we are assumed to be lovers, friends, even, on some comical occasion, colleagues. But we are far from any of those, right? We truly ascended what any lovers would feel.
Ever since I joined your language lessons five years ago to learn Spanish, you found yourself mixed with feelings. I know, because I did too. Yet you always had something going on for yourself: a very close proposal of engagement, a break off, grief, and two years later, you started to date. Well, at least you tried. And what did I accomplish? Well, I saw you grow and get better, but I also learned some funny swear words whenever you would excuse yourself.
We had our formalities: group studies with other students, one-on-one sessions, examination preparations, and even, to an extent, you helping with my university assignments. But soon, as you grew and I finished my academics, the formalities evaporated, similar to raindrops on our rooftops and windows. A simple goodbye turned into "see you later" with a smile, and I remember you getting frustrated at your fiancé before I entered. I could overhear the argument and him storming out, while you sighed as you invited me inside.
You were extra sweet that day, and that’s when my body and mind aligned, because at that moment, I refused to hurt you or let anyone hurt you. And yet, I was still unable to save you. I stayed that night with you. I remember our session finished in one hour, and I overstayed for five. We didn’t speak. You were quiet, and I stayed. But I, too, had to leave, because my obligations at that time surrounded me like a chokehold. I had to take care of my life too, unfortunately. Yet I didn’t want you to think for a second that I didn’t think about you.
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Present:
Fast forward three years, and I’m lying on your very bed, naked. What changed? Was it the times I comforted you after our lessons by staying back and keeping you company? Was it the times I remembered the little things you liked, your birthday, your favorite color, the poets you liked, the movies you enjoyed, the music you danced to? Or was it simply the time I confessed to you while I was drunk, a quick call in the middle of the night? During my intoxication, I did feel a dreadful sense of discomfort, yet I was relieved by the idea that I might no longer need to bear the burden of my desires alone, that I desired for it to be shared, shared by my mentor, shared by Natalia Álvarez Romero.
The words Miss Romero or ma'am no longer applied to us, did they? Not when I saw you coming from the closet, my voice hitching as I took in the curves of your body. The gentle beauty spot on the top of your left breast always drove me crazy. It was very rare to see you dressed provocatively, and when you did, I dared not stare at the voluptuous breasts you always revealed.
My favorite? The caramel skin you have. It always felt like it complemented my tone. The distinguishing flavors of hot and cold made me question my own body, but in a way that was far more poetic than anything else.
It's been almost eight years since I have known you, and the last two years have been so beautiful, colored in rainbows, soft as snow, tender as the crackling of autumn leaves. We truly fell in love. You didn't care about the age gap; the 11 years of distance between us didn't mean much. Why should it? When you stopped talking to me for several weeks and denied me entry into your house, I thought I had lost it all, lost you. But you needed time, time to grieve old lovers and to accept me, that is what you said. I'll never forget your words when you fell in love, the voice of a far more mature woman, a woman with strength, courage, and wisdom: "Discúlpame, querido, I am in love with you too." [Forgive me, my dear, I am in love with you too.] Now I lie waiting for you to come slowly.
You slide into the bed as my head tilts against the headrest of your bed. Your soft body tickles me in ways I never thought possible, even in my fantasies. What was this feeling? A romantic longing or yearning, because if it was love, that was already implied since I met you. Your hands rush around my shoulders as I lift myself up and move downward. Now my neck is pillowed over your arms. “I love you,” I whisper, and all you could say was, “I needed you today. Perdóname, mi amor, this took too long. [I needed you today. Forgive me, my love, this took too long. We took too long to get here.] You were always a woman of brief words, a woman of brevity. Even when you taught me, you never entertained the idea of fancy language, always direct. So why did you turn me into a poet? Why did I still fall for you?
I could smell you, the fragrance of a goddess, the kind I remembered for so long yet could never grow tired of, paired with your sweet, colorful words tied to your accent. Oh, tell me, who wouldn’t be mesmerized by you? So why did it take us two long years to get to where we are? We had already done everything else. We shared kisses, held hands, shared beds, stared into each other’s eyes, and took care of each other when we were sick. I needed to know. “Natalia, why today? What changed?” In one swift movement, your lips closed in on mine. Your other hand rushed to my neck, placing it gently along my cheek. “Everything, my boy.” You kissed me, and I immediately knew. Your lips were so flavorful that I could no longer remember any memories of my past except the ones where only you existed.
The kisses trickled down from my cheeks to my neck. They were deep, but I could not hear the loud smooches you often laid. They were passionate, feeling like raindrops on my body, a drizzling of kisses that ran in colors of rose, as if I were a dish waiting to be savored by you, and I was simply waiting to be satiated. How I would sorely regret it if I had never confessed that another man could have soiled himself on this very bed instead of me. Oh, my sweet Natalia, I am yours.
Just then, you whispered, not even looking at my already stiff cock, “Your body is so warm.” You tenderly rushed your hands over my chest, gliding down and caressing my abs. You explored inches of my torso, the curvature of my back that meets my abdomen. “Ohh~” I cracked like a little frustrated animal wishing to be free from his cage.
My breathing gets heavier, louder. "Nngh~" Oh my goodness, you do that thing I love, the finger walk, as you venture down to my pelvic region. You bite your lips. "Mmhmm, I like how aroused you are, cariño." [Mmhmm, I like how aroused you are, sweetheart.] Your voice is so soft and luscious. I wonder if you ever considered being a voice actor. Oh, I could never get tired of hearing you. Even after eight years, you still feel so novel to my ears.
Slowly and steadily, you walk to my stiff cock. With your index and middle fingers, your nails sharpened, you spread them, and between those two fingers, you wrap the base of my cock. "~Uhh, Natalia~" I pause, continuing with heavy breaths in a steady, rhythmic motion, up and down, my chest moving. You were deadly. You lean forward even further, your breasts pressing against my chest, your nipples aroused as I feel them on my body, as if I were being branded by your tenderness.
"¿Olvidaste mi primera regla? I don’t like it when you make sounds." [Did you forget my first rule? I don’t like it when you make sounds.] Oh my, those whispers against my cheeks, my ears ringing in absolute frustration. I could feel myself deafened by your voice and body. The first rule of your group sessions: "Sin sonidos, Natalia. No disturbing anyone. Always raise your hand when you want to speak." [No sounds, Natalia. No disturbing anyone. Always raise your hand when you want to speak.] I remember. I speak the rule fluently. My beautiful beloved deserves to be taken care of, but right now, she’s taking care of me. I wonder, where does my journey end tonight?
"Sí, buen chico," [Yes, good boy.] with a voice as clear as the first day of spring, smooth as the velvet sheets we lay on. As your thumb rushes up and down my length, I had to admit to you earlier that I was not gifted, nor was I impressive, but length never mattered to you. You often whisper to make me jealous, "Me gustan grandes, heh~" [I like them big, heh~] My body jerks. You know how to touch my insecurities and drive me wild. I love it, I love it so very much, because no matter what, I still think you would be the only woman to ever feel me this way. I have described my future already, and there is no one besides you.
You squeeze my tip, and a drop of pre-cum erupts. You take the tip of your index finger and run it up and down my slightly less-than-average length. You make me wet just with the scoops of sensitized drips I produce. No spit, no external lubes. You know I get so wet for you, so why bother with other kinds of liquids?
Your thighs capture my subtle movement. "Already tensed up? No te preocupes, mi amor. But, remember, no noises." [Already tensed up? It's okay, my love. But, remember, no noises.] You smile so wickedly. You know it would be impossible because as soon as you run your fingertip and nails up my length, the veined cock, like a string that gets pressed as you tamper with my body. The unholy sounds of my moans, combined with your authoritative touches shrouded in playful tease, make my body ring in the way it is tuned to. This was my first time, my first time with any woman on this planet, and yet you memorized every part of me from the moment I said I was in love with you to the moment we lay on your bed tonight.
My lower hips flex as the ticklish, disproportionate pre-cum smeared across my cock feels odd. The places where I am dry feel the most sensitive, and where I am wet, your finger slides right away. Milliseconds of pleasure and milliseconds of pain, how could we be so in sync yet so distant in age?
"Hngh~" You grab me. Slowly, your hands wrap my cock with your thumb over the tip. You press on it, squeezing out more pre-cum, leaking. My hips and ass clench, my balls, filled with days of cum, are now heavy, the skin turned firm, no longer hanging, and my heart pounds like a planet residing on my chest. You scratch my ears [skrrr] with the hand I am resting on, and gently move your wrist up and down. "Suave, respira, mi amor, respira," [Take it easy, breathe, my love, breathe.] You say, but my chest rises, up and up, ready to have my heart tear itself from my chest and land on you. Oh, please, please let me moan louder.
But you notice my toes curling, my hands shaking as you break me even more. You turn to me, and with even leverage, you pull me higher as you sink once again into my chest, kissing me on my nipples. Just then, "Natalia, slower," a heavy whisper cracked the air we breathe. You don’t say a word and then cover my mouth. "¡Cállate!" [Quiet!] in a strict tone, but there was some flirtatious undertone in the voice you opened with. Despite being firm, you demanded me to be exactly the way you wanted—perfect.
"Mmh... Uh~" My voice was locked up. My throat was the only way to echo itself, and with the skin over my throat, it muffled any sound of my breath. The back of my mouth burned to scream, but you enjoyed toying with me. You went quicker. The strokes moved up and down, becoming steadier, from gentle strokes to a slightly firmer grip and faster movements. My body squirmed, my eyes shut, and I could see the lights above blur.
"Ahhhnn~" My neck tilted further upwards, and your beautiful, warm body blanketed me as it always did during winter’s cold. Your legs anchored me to the bed so I could no longer move. Your thighs rubbed against my balls, the soft skin against my contracted balls, and you moved faster; up and down, faster, faster, faster. "Mmh... Mmh... Mmh... Mmh... Mmh... Mmh..." With each stroke, the pace rushed faster as my entire nervous system, including my heart, reacted in ways I could no longer understand. My toes curled, and I clenched onto the sheets.
Just as you leaned close to my ears, your eyes closed, and with an arousing whisper, you said, "Eyacula, mi buen chico." [Cum, my sweet boy.] I burst open, with strings of cum rushing over my stomach, colored in gray and white. The cum was thick, but the dopamine rush, my lower back tightening as I arched forward, my balls aching as they emptied from days of abstention, felt so painful and yet so freeing and relaxing.
"So much, all this for me?" You smiled, staring back at me as I steadily opened my eyes, looking at you. Your hands slipped to my throat. "I don’t like messes. You will need to clean yourself for me. ¿Comprendido?" [I don’t like messes. You will need to clean yourself for me. Understood?] You scoop all the cum onto your fingers and feed it to me. "Open wide, baby!" With my eyes closed, I drink it all up, satiating my own gift for the woman of my dreams, Miss Natalia Álvarez Romero.
"I love you, Natalia~." One last moment before we slumber into the night of infinite longing. "Te amo, mi todo," [I love you, my everything.] We kiss.
Fin.
Thank you for reading :)