Chapter 31

After that day, things got really hectic for me. Non-stop rush with school, 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 see each other in the middle of the chaos. He was helping his mom out, working, whatever... just tied up.

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

I regretted slacking off so much the month before. Now it was college entrance exams or bust. My head was already starting to throb 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 did odd gigs giving private lessons to pay the bills. Her name was Diana — forgot to mention that. And damn... she looked like she stepped out of a shampoo ad: blonde, skinny, tall, with a beauty that made anyone on the street do a double-take. She had everything to be 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 ride. We'd fool around in the car right there, parked 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 was meeting up with him. I was pissed 'cause I hadn't washed any, and I had nothing clean to throw on. 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 made for female torture. I stormed out huffing, ignored my mom calling from the kitchen, and went straight to the front of the house 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 riding my ass.

"Dude, my mom's being a total 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 shit."

"Why? You look hot 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 slid between my legs, over my panties. It started light. That slow caress from someone who knows the way and is just warming things 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 better take those panties off." He said it with that husky 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 underwear all day. And I was always the type... like I had a damn glue factory between my legs. One little thing, and boom. I'd gush.

While he drove, I pulled my panties aside myself, letting the wet part stick to the seat. His hand took advantage. Went in harder. 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 fucking horny, and then I have 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, filling it 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?"

"Mmm... 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 spread across my face. Ear to ear. My pussy lit up. I opened wider for him, legs splayed in the passenger seat, feeling his fingers play with me like they were mine.

The street blurred by around us, people walking, buses, motorcycles, fruit vendors. And there I was... breath caught, trying not to moan too loud. He stared 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 made the seat vibrate and pushed me further. I was so close. Just a little more. The kind of close that aches.

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 wanted to curse him out or thank him. 'Cause I was sitting there, shaking, clit throbbing, panties glued 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, better to avoid..."

I asked who, 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 on all night, 'cause her nipples were hard, poking through the fabric.

"Auntie, your headlights are on!"

What the fuck. 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 good? I'm gonna brush my teeth, head to the table."

I walked to the table still feeling the wetness sticking to my panties. The frustration still burning in my body, like I could 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 shit about biology.

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

"JUUULLIAAA!" She yelled from somewhere in the house.

I jumped up.

"HEEEY!" I yelled back. That's how us poor folks do it.

"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 in a knot at her belly, thighs pressed together, face somewhere between sleepy and embarrassed. Her face all smushed, no makeup, and still gorgeous. Absurdly gorgeous.

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 slept like shit, teach..."

"I crashed around eight in the morning."

"Why?"

"Stop being nosy, girl." She said it with that naughty smile, half wanting to play, half wanting to change the subject.

"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 shit like that.

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

"Does it hurt after?" I asked the most random thing that popped into my head.

"You mean from fucking?"

"Yeah."

"Sometimes, if I overdo it or it's been a while... but sometimes it's just an accident, wrong angle..."

"I was sore 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 with me. After all, she was my teacher. But I needed to talk to someone. Just didn't have the guts to say I'd fucked three guys in one day — she wasn't ready for that.

"You gotta see a gyno, 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 wait a bit more?"

"Uh... yeah. I'll head to the living room then..."

"You can stay if you want. I'm not shy."

In my head it was all: "Jully, wipe that grin off and stop ogling the woman!" But it was impossible. When she pulled off the shirt, I saw everything. She was one of those fake-skinny types. 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 teen's. Belly sucked in, with little dimples on the sides, and her pussy... smooth. Not a sign of hair. Like it had never been there. And a perfect little slit, like a doll's, no lips poking 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 hurt 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 a good grip is the best, right?"