Chapter 17

Mariana hadn't talked to me in two days, which was a big deal in our relationship. I cut her some slack since we were in the middle of exams and there were these stupid college prep mock tests that didn't mean shit. I left her a message, but she didn't respond.

Pedro was driving me nuts those two days, dying to hook up no matter what. The guy was desperate, texting me nonstop, saying he'd explode if we didn't sort that out soon. He'd call out of nowhere, asking where I was, if he could swing by. I kept putting him off. I knew if I was alone with him, there'd be no stopping it.

Carla didn't say anything, but she sent me a question mark. She was probably wondering if I was still alive after her last visit. I decided to ignore it.

The bus guy chatted with me every day; we were waiting for the month to turn so we could go out. He was fun, had a smooth way with words, but I already knew that when we finally went out, he'd want to fuck me. I just wasn't sure yet if I'd let him.

And Matheus? He hadn't said a word. Not even a text, nothing. His dad wasn't coming around anymore either, and that was something I sorted out with my mom over breakfast.

My mom sighed, looking at me with that face like she knew I was always up to no good. She crossed her arms on the table, tapping her fingers lightly on the wooden surface.

"Julia, I'm your mom. If something's wrong, I need to know."

I swallowed hard, trying to stay calm. My heart was racing. What exactly had he told her?

"Mom, I already told you, nothing's wrong. I got mad that day and said some dumb shit. That's it."

She studied me, like she was trying to read my mind.

"If he did something..."

"He didn't do anything!" I cut in too fast.

Shit. That gave me away a little. My mom furrowed her brow, took a deep breath, and dropped the bomb:

"He's not coming back."

My stomach twisted into a knot.

"What do you mean?"

"We decided to split up."

My world spun for a second. I thought I'd feel relieved, but for some reason, this weird anxiety climbed up my chest.

"Because of what I said?" I asked, feeling the heat rush over me.

"No, I don't want a man around my daughter like that; that's abuse, honey. Today he looks, tomorrow he touches, and after that who knows... Better to cut it off at the root."

"But Mom, it's not his fault; guys look, right? I was wearing short clothes..." I had to defend him because I'd provoked him; it'd be too shitty of me otherwise. And he didn't seem to tell my mom what I'd done in my room—so in a way, we were in on it together.

"You provoked him?" She paused, looking at me curiously. "You can tell me, honey; he's charming. You wanted to see how far your power went, huh?"

I couldn't lie to my mom.

"Ew! Mom, he's old... And no, Mom..."

And I lied. But I don't know if she bought it...

I got out of my mom's sight as soon as she stopped talking, bolted out, got ready quick, grabbed my backpack, and headed to school.

After classes, I didn't want to go home—no way was I going home; what if she picked up that conversation again? But the problem was, I had nowhere to go. To Matheus's, no way; my stepdad was there. Mariana wasn't picking up, and Pedro had afternoon classes.

Only the bus guy was left.

I called him, and half an hour later, he was there to pick me up. We had nowhere to go, so we headed to a dead-end street where he said he parked the car. We sat there, AC on, talking without rushing.

It hadn't been ten minutes of the car parked when he pulled me in for a kiss. And of course, I kissed back. I'd wanted this for a long time. He was a cute guy, maybe five years older than me, I figured.

His kiss was good, no rush. His mouth fit mine just right, like he already knew the rhythm I liked. His hand didn't move at first, but he always held me firm, like he was afraid I'd bolt.

He had this thing that drew me in; he seemed to control the desire. With his kiss, he teased me, brushing his lips against my ear, whispering little things low, trailing slowly down my neck.

His hands squeezed my thighs near my groin, but didn't go further—just to tease, you know? Little touches, light pressures, like he wanted to leave me aching for the next move.

I was already feeling hot and wet, crazy to slip my hand into the bus guy's pants. I gave his bulge a feel, and to my surprise, he was pretty chill, not hard. I wondered if that's how real men were... No rush, no desperation, just enjoying the moment. Truth was, he was making me feel safe with him. And that made me surrender even more.

Then things started heating up. While I kissed him, my hand slid to his stomach, slow. I scratched lightly with my nails in circular motions, feeling his muscles tighten under my touch.

He grabbed my hand and guided it lower. Of course, I pulled away.

"Aw, come on... Just a little..." he murmured, looking at me with that mischievous smile.

"Okay, but just a little... and over the shorts," I said, playing innocent.

I laughed to myself inside. I think he thought I was some saint. But I was no saint, and I stayed there, all pure, squeezing his bulge over the fabric. His dick was pretty big, and after the first strokes, it swelled up, straining across his shorts, caught in a way that looked almost uncomfortable.

He groaned, looking at me with a naughty grin, and adjusted his shorts, like he wanted to show me what I'd done.

"Look what you're doing to me..." he said, tugging the fabric down a bit to make the bulge more obvious.

My curiosity spiked, but I hesitated. I wanted to tell him to take it all off, but I was scared of seeming too forward. I had some experience—just this month I'd played with three dicks, all family ones. So I kept playing innocent, keeping the game going. I knew you don't tease guys if you can't follow through.

I kept squeezing lightly and leaned in, whispering in his ear.

"I've never seen one up close... can I look?"

He laughed, pleased, falling for my tease. Calmly, he unbuttoned his shorts and shifted, revealing a bit more. My heart pounded, the anticipation leaving me breathless.

Without him asking, I ran my fingers gently, exploring every detail. The skin was hot, smooth, and it had a nice shape. The veins contrasting, the soft tone... I was fascinated, taking in every inch as my hands moved slow.

He took my hand and guided me through a handjob, all while not stopping the kisses. I don't need to say I was dying to put my mouth on it, but unfortunately, I had to play this game with him. He didn't know me, and this side of Julia—I didn't want him knowing it yet.

I leaned into him more, pressing my tits against him. Even under the bra, they were sensitive. He didn't waste time, bringing his big hand to grab my breast.

"You're gonna get my white school shirt dirty with that grubby hand. Hold on," I said as I unhooked my bra under the shirt and tossed it in my backpack.

He looked surprised.

I thought it was hot when he had me lean back against the car seat and slipped his hand under my shirt. He gave me a heavy massage, squeezing my tits with just the right pressure, rubbing my nipple with his thumb, pinching them in a way that didn't hurt—it turned me on but relaxed me so much I almost dozed off! Down in my panties, my pussy was screaming: Hey, I'm here and I want to be touched!

That day, that's all we did; I held his dick like I'd never done it before, and he played with my tits. He even tried to suck on them; I wanted it bad, but no way was I letting him lift my shirt in the car in the middle of the day with people walking by.