FERNANDA, THE F.

The Bar do Paulo was right in the middle of the main square of my small town, located in the center west of Minas Gerais. It was there that, while the group of friends had beer, I, who did not drink anything that had alcohol content, had juice and soda while we talked about various subjects. Pure philosophy of bar. Bar table wisdom. Talk thrown away. Gossip, lots of gossip. Of these, the most interesting, I learned through the mouth of my friend Fê, who was always very well informed. And that was part of our group because of the importance we gave him to keep us informed about everything and everyone in the city or, perhaps, the fear that we had deep inside us, to become news, one day, in his mouth, if we did not treat her very well. But before reporting them, they must know, as I know them, the Faith. So that they may believe or not believe in it. After all, gossip is the fruit of conversation only between friends. Fernanda’s parents, Fê for her friends, as she liked to say, had moved from my city to Goiânia when she was still a small child, at the age of two. The father, Seu Horácio, had been approved in a contest for the INPS and was appointed to the Capital of the State of Goiás.

The mother, Dona Carlinha, who in my city was a primary teacher, accompanied her husband as a simple housewife. But, arriving in Goiânia, a while later, she got a place as a municipal teacher. They lived in Goiás for seventeen years, until Seu Horácio got a transfer to the INPS Post in a nearby town of mine. But as the distance between the two cities, mine and the one I was going to work were only twelve kilometers away, they preferred to live in my city, where all their relatives lived. His Horacio worked there and spent the weekends and holidays at home, along with Dona Carlinha and the Faith. As he himself said: “Until he could move again. Or until he retired. ” At the age of nineteen, Faith swore with her feet together that she was about to turn seventeen, on the biggest club face. And he would close his face if anyone doubted it. But everyone liked her and no one wanted her to be bored. Especially because if she did not like somebody, alas, poor fellow. She was addicted to gossip. And the addiction to gossip and gossip in the eyes of most people proved to be much worse than the worst of any other addiction. But Fê, whenever she was going to talk about someone, apologized and began saying, “Excuse me, but although I know very little about Fulana’s life …” and soon she would release her tongue for as long as it took to exhaust the whole subject about that person. Then he would restart with another. To those who claimed to know very little about one’s life, until she was always wonderfully well informed. In general, I was informed of the hidden flirtations, who betrayed who with whom, who was fighting with the husband to the point of not talking more, but tried to keep up appearances so that there were no scandals, things like that. Gossip. Gossiping. Gossip. Lots of gossip.

Fê had in principle to speak anything that knew that everyone, of any person, friend or not, but at the same time, secretly hid the most intimate and interesting parts of his own history, So what we knew of his life was more related to the lives of her parents than to herself. And always narrated by her. But as with all people, there is always someone more intimate with whom we open ourselves and trust our secrets and sins. Then, everything is being uncovered gradually and what was once considered an eternal secret is becoming known, by some privileged at the beginning, until it became known to the general public.

I became acquainted with Fe’s true secret story through the indiscreet account of Amora, our common friend, with whom I had had a short-lived affair, but who had left us a certain attraction that made us more than friends. Amora knew all about Faith. “What happened, did you think I was a little sad today?” “Has anything happened? “It was not nothing, Amora, I’m not feeling very well today, it’s memories that make me feel bad.” _ Why do not you tell me? Maybe just talking will improve. Come on, put it out. ” “You know, Amora, I should be celebrating today the birthday of someone who was very important in my life, but who is so far away” _ “In Goiás?” “Yes, Amora, there in Goias.” “_ Boyfriend?” “No, Amora, more than a boyfriend, the only love of my life.” “Listen, Amora, I’m going to tell you some things no one’s ever known, but I’m feeling I need to talk to someone. my name is Pedro and he lives in Goiânia, if he has not changed from there. “

I had finished that first grade year and was going to attend my first day of high school classes in a private school in Goiânia. My parents did not let me go to public school because, according to them, because they could afford to pay for my studies, they preferred to leave a place for someone who did not have these conditions. So, I went there for my first day of classes. He was fourteen. He had already dated an older boy’s boyfriend for two months, when he was twelve. With him I had had some handles, let him suck my little tits that were still very small, but hard, and even took his stick and beat him a few wrists. I had also felt her hand smoothing my whole body, ending always in the middle of my legs, covering my pussy and making fun of her that made me very excited. We used to be very dirty. Everything under his guidance, always teaching me, as he told me. For two months I would meet this boyfriend twice a week and there would always be something new. But he never tried to eat me for real. Although sometimes it was almost. Especially when I took off my panties and kept rinsing the dick in my pussy. I, at those moments, felt a tremendous thirst and a craving for him to eat me. I even asked her insistently to eat me. But he always said no, that I was too young. That he was going to teach me a lot of shit but he was not going to eat me. One day he got a job inside and moved in. So, when I entered that room in junior high school, I was still a virgin, but I was already a jerk. Since I had arrived much earlier, I chose a wallet in the back of the room, from where I could see everyone and not be much of a view. That first day Pedro sat in a wallet next to mine. He did not leave my side until our graduation. We turned nail and meat.

In the beginning, as friends. Until one day he told me that he could not stand being my friend any more, that he wanted me every time he saw me, and that night, every night, he was pounding in his bedroom before bed, thinking that he was fucking me. He spoke just the same, as I am speaking, very clearly, without any shame of me. We were at school, in a corridor overlooking the courtyard and the toilets, and when he finished talking, he stood and showed me the volume of his cock stowing his pants and said to me: “Look how you leave me every day when I see you “He took my hand and started to pass on his pica that was hard and almost ripping the jeans. At that moment I felt I was going to give it to him. My pussy started throbbing, vibrating, and I felt myself getting pissed off. We went to the toilets and walked into the ladies room. We kissed, hugging each other, my body glued to his, feeling his dick stick harder and harder. I then opened his pants, pulled his **** out as he ran his hand over my ass and unbuttoning my blouse, pulling away my bra to nibble on my tits. I could not stand it any longer. He walked away, went to the door that had the key in the lock and keyed inside. He came back, made me turn his back to him, facing the wall, and as he stroked me, he ran his hand over my wet pussy. I was growing weaker and I was giving myself to his caresses without resisting. He guided my hand to his cock as he ran his hand over my ass, pulling my legs slowly, until I put a finger on my ass. When I touched him, I felt him react, closing and opening, closing and opening without me being able to control. He was poking a finger lightly, spinning as he went deeper and deeper. I felt like I’d stuck my finger in and it drove me crazy. I only remember going down to get on all fours while I asked him to eat me, to eat my ass, to fuck me all. He opened the buttocks and shoved his cock into my ass, while he told me to go fucking his butt, swinging. He ate my ass right there, at that moment. In a painful way at first. But that was getting so good as he was shoving and pulling, shoving and pulling, that in the end I just wanted him not to take the stick out of my ass, so good it was. In the end, he was stuffing the little dick into my ass, so deep that I could feel his sack pounding on my ass when he stuffed it all. I only know, Amora, that it was very good to give Pedro’s cua for the first time. From that day forward, we were no longer just friends. Until we graduated, we fucked often. I could not even tell. “But this guy from Pedro just ate his ass, did he?”

For a long time I did not let him in my pussy. Just in my ass. When he wanted to, I said no, I wanted to marry a virgin. That my ass was always his and no one else’s. But the pussy would not even get married. Idea placed in my head by my mother. After we finished high school, Peter and I engaged in a more serious relationship and ended up engaged. We got the wedding. And we’re still fucking more comfortable now that we’re getting married. So one fine day we received an invitation to spend the weekend at a friend’s site of a friend of ours, a few kilometers away from Goiania. We went on a Friday afternoon to return on Monday morning. There we met two more couples: the owners and our common friend, with his wife. We left the part of the food on account of the men, who planned to prepare a barbecue and we arranged to enjoy only the walk, without any home obligation. Since I was the only single, I was a little separated from the others who, because they were married, had more in common to talk. Still on the afternoon of the day we arrived, I decided to enjoy the beautiful view that could be seen from the edge of an artificial lake located some fifty meters from the house where we were. There, sitting on a wooden stool made on a tree trunk, I stared at the landscape. I was so distracted, Amora, that I only realized that I was no longer alone, when I heard a scratch of throat beside me. When I turned around, a man appeared to be in his early forties, handsome and smiling.

“I scared you, I did not mean to, I was so caught up in the landscape that I did not even notice when I arrived, I’m Quincas, a friend of Aparicio, owner of the site.” He held out his hand and when I picked it up, “Oh, Amora, it was as if I had taken a 220-volt shock.” He looked me straight in the eye and told me without letting go of my hand. new, but you’re beautiful, very beautiful, it must be Pedro’s girlfriend, he’s very lucky. The only thing I could say was a “Thank you” that came out scratched from my throat. Really, Amora, I had never felt that way. I wanted him. I wanted him inside me, anyway. I thought I was going crazy when I said, “You’re beautiful too. I do not know why I said that, but I did. When I found myself, he had washed me up in a kind of orchard, where there were some old mangoes that looked so old they were so big. Without a word, he hugged me, covered my mouth with his lips in a warm wet kiss, put his tongue in my mouth until he almost choked me and pressed me against the trunk of the tree. When I came to understand what was happening, I was holding in my hand a large, thick, hot spike that pulsed between my fingers, throbbing. He gently pushed me down, making me crouch down as I stuffed that beauty of cock in my mouth into my throat. I suckled that cock every time with more will. I would take it and lick it, I nibbled it lightly while it was tucked in and I would get that hot tooth in my mouth like I was fucking it. Without saying anything, as I shook from head to toe, she took off my panties and made me stay on all fours. I was sure he was going to fuck me and I wanted to say that I could not, that I was a virgin, that I had promised that the first time in my pussy would be Pedro’s, but I could not speak a word. I just started moaning when I felt he was stuffing that cock into me, carefully, as I moaned and clung to him. I felt it when it tore at me at once, and I did not care about the pain it caused. After shoving, he pushed and pulled the stick inside me. On four, as it put me, I was without any contrary reaction. He fucked me for many minutes until I heard him moan loudly, squeeze me hard, give a thrust that almost knocked me to the floor and wince as hot liquid trickled inside me and down my legs. I do not know, Amora, if I did. What I can say is that I really liked that guy fucking me the pussy I kept, so lovingly, for Pedro. I can say that my first fuck in the pussy could have been divine.  “Uai, Fê, if it was as you told it, it was divine.”

It would have been really, Amora, it would have been if when Quincas had taken his cock out of me and got up I had not come face to face with Pedro, standing about ten meters from us, staring wide-eyed at us, white as a deceased
When I recovered from the shock of that sight, he had already moved away toward the house where our other friends were. I ran, still with his sneaky legs, to meet him but when I got there, he was already accelerating the car and returning to Goiânia. No one understood his back nor my crying. We never met again.
Today, it’s his birthday.
“But what about Quincas?”
Quincas, Amora, stayed there all weekend, comforting me with his pica while his wife just wanted to know how to stroke the pool.

Deixe um comentário

Preencha os seus dados abaixo ou clique em um ícone para log in:

Logotipo do WordPress.com

Você está comentando utilizando sua conta WordPress.com. Sair /  Alterar )

Foto do Google

Você está comentando utilizando sua conta Google. Sair /  Alterar )

Imagem do Twitter

Você está comentando utilizando sua conta Twitter. Sair /  Alterar )

Foto do Facebook

Você está comentando utilizando sua conta Facebook. Sair /  Alterar )

Conectando a %s