Chapter 31

After that day, things got really hectic for me. A total whirlwind with schoolwork, pressure coming at me from all sides. I still hooked up with the bus guy when I could — which was almost never, ‘cause he was busy too and we’d only catch each other in the chaos. He was helping out his mom, working, whatever… tied up.

Me, I needed to focus. Pedro wasn’t helping either. He just wanted to fuck around, nothing serious. He’d gotten hooked, you know? Always wanting more, like I was his toy. There was a point where I had to slam on the brakes, ‘cause he was getting way too pushy, straight-up out of line.

I regretted slacking off so much the month before. Now it was college entrance exams or bust. My head was already starting to ache from all the stress and guilt.

My mom, seeing me starting to freak out, managed to hire this woman to help me with my subjects. She was older than me, already finished college, but didn’t have a steady job. She picked up gigs giving private lessons to pay the bills. Her name was Diana — I forgot to mention that. And, damn… she looked like she stepped out of a shampoo ad: blonde, slim, tall, with a beauty that made anyone on the street do a double-take. She could’ve been a model.

Around that time, the bus guy — who wasn’t really the “bus guy” anymore, since he had a car now — would pick me up at home and drop me off at the corner near Diana’s place. They lived in the same neighborhood. It was convenient. And we’d make the most of the drive. We’d fool around a bit in the car, parked right there on his quiet street. Then I’d head in for my lesson pretending my mind was locked on quadratic equations.

But on this particular day… shit, it was intense.

I was getting ready, running late, and my mom was yelling in my ear, wanting to know why the hell I only wore dresses when I went to see him. I was pissed ‘cause I hadn’t washed any, and I had nothing else to wear. The fight started over clothes, but then it got all general.

Of course I wore dresses to make things easier, right? I’m not stupid. But I couldn’t exactly say that.

I ended up grabbing these jeans skirt I hated, the stiff kind that rides up, bunches, squeezes your gut, and feels like it was designed for female torture. I stormed out huffing, ignored my mom calling from the kitchen, and went straight out front to wait for him to pick me up.

He showed up right on time, like always. Getting into his car was like taking a deep breath of relief. At least there, no one was on my case.

“Crap, my mom’s being such a pain in the ass!”

“What happened? Whoa… you’re wearing a skirt? I’ve never seen you in a skirt…”

“I didn’t have any clean dresses. And she bitched that I only see you in dresses.” I rolled my eyes. “And don’t talk about the skirt, I hate this damn thing.”

“Why? You look good in anything. And besides… look…”

He didn’t even finish the sentence. His hand came right over, without even glancing at me. He kept his eyes on the road like nothing was up, but his fingers had already slipped between my legs, over my panties. It started light. That slow caress from someone who knows the way and just warms you up.

“You’re such a perv, you’re gonna leave me all soaked.”

I said that and already spread my legs, hiking the skirt up. Who was I kidding? I’d been dripping for a while.

“Then you’d better take those panties off.” He said it with that gravelly voice, eyes still on the street.

That was normal for me. As everyday as saying good morning. Sometimes I didn’t even leave the house with panties on. I hated dealing with soaked ones all day. And I was always the type… like I had a damn glue factory between my legs. One little thing, and boom. It flowed.

While he drove, I pulled my panties aside myself, letting the wet part stick to the seat. His hand took advantage. Went in deeper. His fingers knew the spot, went straight for it, brushing my clit lightly, then circling, then stopping just to drive me crazy.

“You get me so damn horny, and then I’ve got biology class. I can’t focus on shit.” I murmured, trying to keep my voice steady while my hips started moving on their own. “And you… found a spot for us?”

Since laundry day, we hadn’t done it properly. Almost two weeks had passed. I was dying to fuck like normal people. And he was pent up too, blowing all his cash on that car, loading it up with dumb shiny crap that didn’t get him anywhere.

“Yeah… this Saturday I’m taking you to a little motel. What do you think?”

“Hmm… sounds good. I’ve never been to one.”

The idea hit me hard. Imagine… fucking on a bed with a mirror on the ceiling, watching myself get pounded? The grin came right away. Ear to ear. My pussy lit up. I opened up even more for him, spread wide in the passenger seat, feeling his fingers play with me like they were mine.

The street rolled by around us, people walking, buses, motorcycles, fruit vendors. And there I was… breath caught, trying not to moan too loud. He looked straight ahead, but every now and then he’d peek in the rearview and flash that sly half-smile, like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

His fingers kept going. A little faster now. His palm pressed against the bone of my groin, fingers sliding over my clit, wet, hot, right on target. Every turn, the seat vibrated and pushed it along. I was so close. Just a little more. The kind of almost that hurts.

But he stopped.

He pulled his hand away slow, looked at me, and licked his fingers, still with that calm look, like nothing happened.

“You’re gonna show up to class all sweaty today.”

I swallowed hard. Didn’t know if I should curse him out or thank him. ‘Cause there I was, shaking, clit throbbing, panties stuck to the seat, no orgasm, but totally alive.

“Hey, why do you never drop me right at her door?”

“There’s this guy on that street I don’t like, I’d rather avoid him…”

I asked who it was and he said some random name, then told a story. I bought it, but since I was late, I fixed my panties, gave him a kiss, and rushed off to my lesson without thinking about it anymore.

In the apartment, my teacher Diana looked like she’d just rolled out of bed. She greeted me with sleepy eyes, messy hair, and an old t-shirt hanging down to mid-thigh. And the AC must’ve been blasting all night, ‘cause her nipples were hard, poking through the fabric.

“Auntie, your headlights are on!”

What the hell. I didn’t even know her that well and I blurt out something like that. But she just laughed it off, scratched her nipples over the shirt in that automatic way you do when you’re trying to play it cool but failing.

“Silly… come on in, everything okay? I’m gonna brush my teeth, head to the table.”

I walked to the table still feeling the slickness sticking to my panties. The frustration still burning in my body, like I could still feel his finger on my skin. The worst kind of horniness is the kind that gets cut off halfway. I was full up, pulsing inside, and now I had to pretend I gave a damn about biology.

I sat at the table, spread out the books and notebooks, but I didn’t even notice I was slamming them down crooked, pissed off. My mind was miles away, really far.

“JUUULIAAA!” She yelled from somewhere in the house.

I jumped up.

“HEEEY!” I yelled back. Poor folks shout like that.

“GRAB ME SOME TOILET PAPER FROM THE PANTRY?”

I went to the pantry, rummaged through the cabinets, and found a roll. Walked to the bathroom and knocked lightly on the door.

“Come in, I’m just peeing.”

I opened it slow. She was sitting on the toilet, shirt bunched up in a knot at her belly, thighs pressed together, face somewhere between sleepy and embarrassed. Her features all soft, no makeup, and still gorgeous. Gorgeous in this insane way.

I handed her the roll but didn’t leave. I stood there, taking in a little more. Her body was movie-star stuff. Firm thighs, wide hips, flat tummy. And her face… her face looked made up.

“Sorry… that crap ran out. I cleaned the bathroom yesterday, splashed water on the rolls that were here by accident and forgot to restock.”

“Happens. You look like you didn’t sleep well, teach…”

“I crashed around eight in the morning.”

“Why?”

“Stop being nosy, girl.” She said it with that naughty smile, half playing, half dodging.

“Now tell me. I’m curious.”

“Had some company…”

“Yesss! You were getting it on, huh!?”

Oh God, I did it again. Said it and regretted it instantly. I didn’t know her well enough to be in the bathroom with her, let alone drop something like that.

“Oh… oh…” She sighed, laughing with that caught-in-the-act face. Unrolled the paper and wiped without any fuss. I stretched a bit, wanting to see more, but couldn’t be too obvious. In the end, I didn’t catch much…

“Do you get sore after?” I asked the most random thing that popped into my head.

“From fucking, you mean?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sometimes, if I overdo it or go too long… but sometimes it’s just an accident, wrong angle…”

“I was like that last time. Hurt for three days…”

She gave me this look mixing judgment and doubt. Probably wondering if she should be sharing this stuff with me. After all, she was my teacher. But I needed to talk to someone. I just didn’t have the guts to say I’d done it with three guys in one day — she wasn’t ready for that.

“You gotta see a gynecologist, sweetie…” She said it while holding the hem of her shirt, like warning me she was about to get naked next. “I’m gonna take a shower, you mind waiting a bit?”

“Uh… yeah. I’ll go to the living room then…”

“You can stay if you want. I’m not shy.”

In my head it was all: “Jujube, hold back that grin and stop ogling the woman!” But it was impossible. When she pulled off the shirt, I saw it all. She was one of those fake skinny girls. The most perfect body I’d ever seen up close. Ass round, perky, no marks — no stretch lines, scars, not even a hint of cellulite.

Her tits were like stone, pointy and high, like a teenager’s. Belly sucked in, with little dimples on the sides, and her pussy… smooth. Not a sign of hair. Like it never grew there. And a perfect little slit, like a doll’s, no lips sticking out like mine!

I didn’t even realize, but my face was all in. Horniness written all over. I snapped out of it when I felt my lip hurting from biting it so hard.

“You okay, Julia?”

“Yeah, Di… just got distracted. But tell me… good night?”

“It was, girl. He’s amazing… damn… what a grip!”

“A guy with that kind of grip is the best, right?”