Chapter 8
After finishing breakfast, I hurried up to my room, the adrenaline still pumping through me. The fun I'd just stirred up was still fresh, and the thought of how I'd left my stepdad totally flustered made me smile inside. Poor guy, he didn't even notice the trap unfolding right in front of him. The excitement was eating me up, and I felt this unstoppable urge to laugh out loud, to scream inside from the mischief I'd just pulled off. Before the thrill could fade, I called Matheus. I needed to know, right away, what he'd told his dad. The same dad who'd, just five minutes ago, looked like a desperate man, trying to catch a glimpse of something that wasn't even his.
"Matheus, everything good? It's Julia…"
"Hey…"
"When are we gonna set a time to hang out?" My voice was straight to the point, no beating around the bush, and I knew it.
"Can you come over to my place? My brother's got his girlfriend there, and my dad's still over at your house."
"I'll try to get Mariana to cover for me so I can head out this afternoon, but there's something I never told you…"
"What? You gonna say you can't make it 'cause you didn't shave?"
"I'm a virgin." I answered straight up.
He went quiet on the other end of the line, my confession seeming to freeze time. I felt a sudden fear, a deep worry that he'd reject me, that my virginity was something he wouldn't want. I'd always thought guys didn't like virgins, with all the hassle and lack of experience, something to steer clear of.
"Look, are you sure you want it to be like that? I'm cool with it either way. Try to sneak out and come over."
"Hey, I didn't say I'm gonna give it to you, you're getting the wrong idea…" The words came out rushed, with a lump in my throat. I was scared to death, nervous as hell.
"Huh, I thought you were into it…"
"We'll see about that in person." And finally, I put it off.
Lying on the bed, my mind was a storm. My first time would be a big deal, I knew that. But I didn't feel love for him, it was just desire, that urgent need, an insatiable fire burning inside me. I didn't really get why I was rushing things, maybe it was the pressure. My friends, pretty much all of them, had already slept with their boyfriends, and here I was, all alone. It was hard to find someone with all the chaos going on at home.
I started imagining what it'd be like, his hands roaming my body, and the question kept echoing in my head: "Does he kiss good?"—that doubt rang through me, making me picture what his kiss would feel like. My body started responding, and my naughty hand went straight for a cozy spot. Lying there, with my legs bent and pressed together, I rubbed myself, feeling the soft friction of one thigh against the other. I loved caressing my outer lips, it was relaxing, intimate. The texture, the warmth… the pleasure it gave me.
Soon, I felt wet, and without thinking, I touched to check. My wetness was clear, a little sticky. I ran my fingers over the skin and brought them to my mouth. The taste was mild, slightly salty, I always laughed when I did it, thought it was kinda gross but it felt so good. My sensitive breasts got some relief from the caresses my fingers made, I loved them, they were firm with perky little nipples. I liked pinching them and giving them little twists.
Down below, I alternated between sliding a finger, wet from my own spit, and slow, rhythmic circles on my clit, which swelled up, getting hard, like it was growing in response to the touch. Every time my fingers moved, a heat spread through my thighs, until my belly clenched a bit. Two fingers inside? It usually hurt, but this time, it felt like my body wanted more, like the hungry flesh was opening up, inviting. It was wild to think how much a pussy could adapt; I felt like I'd need that stretch—Matheus's cock was way too big to fit without some give.
A moan slipped from my throat before I could hold it back, something between surprise and pleasure. I bit my lips, muffling the sound, while letting the palm of my hand press gently on my little spot. The rhythmic touch pulled short, nervous laughs from me, and the thought of having him all the way inside just made the heat build.
I could feel I was gonna come. I closed my eyes, praying nothing would break that thin thread leading me to the end, a moment so rare, almost out of reach. The electricity rising from my thighs burned my nipples, like a hot wave cutting off my breath. I squeezed my thighs hard, in instinctive desperation, like trying to hold back a dam about to burst. But it burst. It hit hard, sweeping through every muscle, pulling loud moans from me that I didn't even realize I let out. Coming was like an internal thunder that shattered me from the inside, making my whole body shake. I melted onto the bed, my fingers still slick between my legs, heart racing, and a light laugh escaped my lips.
I was happy, like I'd reached something impossible. That's when I saw him. I hadn't noticed before, but I had company. At my bedroom door, I'd been careless and left it open, and there he was, standing, my stepdad watching me. His eyes didn't blink, and his hand gripped, painfully tight, the obvious bulge between his legs.
I didn't scream. I slowly pulled my hand from between my legs, each move loaded with unintentional tease. I brought my fingers to my mouth, one by one, sucking my own taste slowly, my gaze locked on his, which seemed frozen in the doorway.
"Uncle, close the door, please."
My voice came out low, but steady, like I owned the moment, even with the flush burning my cheeks.