Following the wave of quarantine writers and writers, once again I will try to return to the life of a writer. I explain … I started writing reports in the distant time of Orkut, and migrated here to Casa dos Contos. I posted only one story here on the site, and there were others in production, but thanks to my pace of life, I ended up abandoning them for a while. A lot has happened in my life, and I ended up losing / forgetting both the login and password here on the site. There was no way, I had to do another login to be able to continue posting.
I love writing stories. I do not like to call these texts “tales”, as they are transcriptions of my real experience, so the word “report” fits the purpose more. Another note – the names I use are real, but obviously I omit surnames, and the locations are as far as possible inaccurate (sometimes it is inevitable to speak of locations, so sometimes I even speak).
My only other short story published here is entitled “I’m still the boss” (the link is on my list of favorites). I suggest reading it, because it was a story that talks about a relationship with a co-worker, very nice to write as well as to remember …
The account I prepared here speaks of a slightly more distant time. I had my childhood in the 80s, and adolescence in the 90s. It was between 1995 and 2000 that I had my most daring and inspiring discoveries and experiences. I believe you can deduct my age now. My parents have always been very open about sexuality. I didn’t have any big problems with that. They met in the 70s, and I believe that this time had a great influence on their “open-minded” behavior. My mother has always taken great care of me, and behaved like a great woman of her day. He never forced the bar for me to marry a virgin, with a veil and wreath (in fact I never married …), and he educated my behavior so that I saw sex as a physiological human relationship, as a physical and mental exercise to be done with people of high confidence. We were obviously not depraved at home, but sex was never taboo. Since my first sexual experience, which was not kept secret from my mother, I was taken to the family gynecologist, who has always taken good care of my health and helped a lot in my sex education.
Because I had a nice sex education, my sexual initiation was not as traumatic as with the vast majority of girls at the time. There was not so much pain. There was no trauma, despair or fear. It was very cool, with an incredible person (with whom I have been friends until today), but I will not go into that account today. In fact, “first time” reports are so corny and devoid of eroticism to be interesting for a story, that I believe I will never tell anyone how it went. It’s an experience I prefer to leave between me and the lucky guy (I was lucky too) …
Even with all that, I did some shit, like any self-respecting teenager. But I am grateful to my mother for making me aware of not putting a child in the world out of sheer recklessness.
My mother is a dentist (she still works), and my father at the time had a small video production company, which produced TV commercials for local channels, as well as recordings of weddings, birthdays and the like. Both were well known in the region, and thanks to the solid clientele, they lived well, and gave me a lot of comfort in childhood and adolescence.
When I was born, back in the early 80s, they were very close friends with a couple about 10 years older than them. At that time, my parents were in their 20s and 22s, while Aunt Roberta and Uncle Alfredo were in their 30s. My mother, Fatima, met Aunt Roberta in the obstetrician’s waiting room where they did prenatal care. My mother is pregnant with me, and Aunt Roberta is pregnant with Bruno.
The friendship grew to the point of becoming almost sisters, given the degree of confidence that each had in the other at that moment so beautiful that it is a pregnancy. I was born at the beginning of the year, in February, and Bruno was born just over two weeks later. It was inevitable – my parents were Bruno’s godparents, and Aunt Roberta and Uncle Alfredo were my godparents. The friendship lasted until today. Sure, without seeing each other so often these days, but Aunt Roberta is a sister to my mother today.
The two couples used to, every summer from our childhood in the 80s until the mid-90s, rent a house on the north coast of Santa Catarina, on a beach close to what is today Beto Carrero. It was a large wooden house, very typical of the time in Santa Catarina, very close to the beach, with low waves and warm water. The trendy Balneário Camboriú is a little further south, but not far.
Between 1995 and 1996, our friends went to parties in Balneário Camboriú a lot. Both Bruno and I were out of our class during that summer. Most had apartments in Camboriú, Itapema and beaches there in that stronghold. We in Penha, further to the north, dying of longing for the crowd.
At least I was able to enjoy the crowd at the beginning of that summer. Around November / December 1995, before the traditional rent of the house that my parents and my godparents used to make every year, I spent almost two weeks in Balneário Camboriú at Larissa’s house, a friend from school. They were intense days, full of memories (I will report some episodes here, in a few days, if you want).
Every morning we went by bike to the south end of the beach. There we took a ferry, which crossed a river and gave access to other beaches in the city, much less busy and less known. Always early in the morning there was a group of surfers with whom we became friends, and I ended up in a wave of “surfistinha”, with the right to have hair, a peculiar musical taste and a courtship interrupted by the beginning of my stay in Penha, in the north.
You could even go from Penha to Balneário Camboriú by bus, but it took about 4 hours to go, plus the same one back. It was so much work, that I had to stay away from my surfer for a few days.
And in December, around the 15th, just before Christmas, another summer of our “buscapé family” started, together with my godparents and their son Bruno.
Bruno is a good friend. We didn’t have that fraternal relationship at the time like our mothers do, but he is one of my best friends. One of the few who calls me by the nickname “from inside the house” … While my friends call me Soninha, at home I am known as Tininha. Baby thing – I had difficulty pronouncing my name when I was little, I referred to myself as “Tininha”.
Bruno was a little upset like me – he was also separated from his group, and to make matters worse, his girlfriend was at the home of relatives in the interior of São Paulo.
You teenagers today have not lived through the time of the expensive long-distance call, and the lines of pay phones on the beaches. The internet didn’t carry around in your pocket like today, nor did you think of a smartphone. Going to a secluded beach at that time at the age of 16 could become torture if there was not adequate company.
At least Bruno was a dear boy, with whom I had a lot of affection, but his vibe was more “nerdy” of computers and video games, while I was more for “surfing”, athletics and running on the beach.
For our parents, the beach in that context was a daily celebration. Every day early opening windows, making coffee, sound in the patio, fire, meat … The women in the kitchen cutting onions, tomatoes, vegetables, cooking rice, potatoes … When we are children, this is delicious. Even more because it lasts a whole month. But when teenagers with their own class and programs, it could become torture after a few days.
As I was in that vibe of surfing, health, athletics, I took advantage of this noisy moment at home and went running on the beach (actually, at school I was on the athletics team, and I loved that – I used to have my parents’ patience to buy one “ Rainha System ”, which was the most coveted sneaker at the time).
I drank a glass of very cold water, ate a banana, dressed in my fitness top (there were no modern Calvin Klein and Speedo today, and for those who have a big chest, they simply kneaded their breasts hard. Uncomfortable, but at least it allowed running without “Hit the chest on the forehead”), my Adidas shorts, my Rainha System, a bottle of water and I would run from 7 am to 10 am, alternating with walks.
People from the rest of Brazil can’t imagine, but the summer in the south is very hot and muggy, sometimes hotter than the northeast. Ten in the morning is already a scorching sun, and I came back from my morning run just smelly. I went straight to the bath.
A daily routine – I opened the hot shower, I find it more comfortable when I come with warm skin. I still do it this way in the summer until today – I go from the very hot water, lowering the temperature until it is refreshing, but warm. I don’t like a cold shower, even in the heat. At that moment, with less hot water, I checked the waxing of my groin and armpits. In the 90s, we still didn’t use as much waxing as we did today – we left a straight stripe, or guided by the inverted triangle shape of the bikini. I was careful not to leave it too high, because it got wet under the bikini when I dived, and it wasn’t cool. I washed the private parts well under the shower, I spent a long time wetting myself with hot water, opening my pores and only soaping myself at the end, lathering my whole body, rinsing right after with a little colder water. Practically a ritual, which was very good for me.
I got out of the shower refreshed, with a sense of accomplishment after the race, and with my bikini tidied up on the beach for the rest of the day.
It was between ten-thirty and eleven when Bruno usually left his room, a rag with disheveled hair. Everyone caught him, especially his father, who was very playful and witty – “the daisy hello hello hello appeared”, sometimes Uncle Alfredo hummed, with some drip in his face.
In the first week I could already see that Bruno was not very nice. I wasn’t much of a chat with me. We talked a little after lunch. I always invited him to the beach. I can count on the fingers of one hand the times Bruno agreed to accompany me on the beach in the afternoon. Run in the morning, no way! He stayed on the computer and in the video game afternoons and nights on end. The year before he was more fun, but this year he was really more reclusive. It wasn’t natural for him, because although he was a nerd, when young Bruno was a fun boy.
And me taking advantage of the solitude to get a bronze and watch the kittens on the beach. I became friends with the neighborhood ladies, and I went with the ‘aunts’ in a group to the beach. Sometimes my mother and Aunt Roberta went too. It wasn’t my class, but I was having fun too. Watch them dirty watching the crowns, and I watch them all! There was always that Styrofoam box with caipirinha and beer … oh, the summer!
There was a day when Bruno woke up early. I had really slept early, because I didn’t hear video game noises at dawn. The house was made of wood, and you could hear the electronic plic-plocs in his room.
When I went to the kitchen to have my morning glass of banana water, the boy was sitting there eating cornflakes.
– Shall we run, Bruno?
– Ah, Tininha, you know I can’t stand running even to the corner. And a good walk, would you do it?
– Top, dear, let’s walk and breathe fresh morning air, Bruno!
My daily run, at that age, was a marvel for my fitness. Today my fitness is still good, but nothing comparable to my 16/17 years old, with 10kg less and 100% more energy to burn. The daily jog was practically a necessity for maintaining my mental health, because this time away from my boy, without sex, without spending energy together, was also complicated.
I ate two bananas this time. I was watching Bruno with a smashed face eating that plate of cornflakes slowly. I didn’t notice it before, but I think he ate it every day. I like cornflakes, but I find it sickening. With the amount of sugar and carbohydrate, I don’t even know how Bruno was so skinny in his youth, even sedentary. We left later, no longer at my usual 7 am, but it was almost 8 am. We went down the street of our house, we walked about 100 meters to the main road of the beach, which already gave access in a few meters on the left to the shore. Partly cloudy day, I remember it was even more muggy than when the sun was shining brightly. It wasn’t a race, but Bruno until he walked hard. He’s a lot taller than me, I think about 1.90 against my 1.65. In the end, it was a good exercise. I ended up not missing the race morning.
We were about to start the third. We studied at the same school, but not in the same class. We started talking about the final exams for the second year, entrance exam options for the next year. We had the same hatred for the geography teacher, always trying to put her political views in the middle of the class. On the outward walk, we talked a lot about studies, college … Bruno still on that standard trip for teenagers of my time – “medicine or law”. I, perhaps because of my father’s influence, did not think only about college. I thought more about some technical course that could earn me money sooner, and then go to college.
On the way back, we talked about banalities, relationships and the like. Bruno already knew my fame. In a conservative school, a girl who was not a virgin would quickly become a slut. The paradox created is that I didn’t deny it, and I didn’t care about it. Maybe that’s why I didn’t have so many friends, and I had more friends. While I hardly talked about it with my friends (Larissa was the only one who knew me as well as Bruno), Bruno knew about all the boys at school that I had sex with that year.
Bruno was on a roll with a girl from another school. He told me that he met Sandrinha at a video game store. I knew her, had talked to her at some party where the two were together. He didn’t talk much about her. I asked how was that roll. Then he started to vent. That Sandrinha was very close to the family, that it was difficult to convince her to leave the house and kept making excuses that her mother wouldn’t let her, that she was a depressed goth. What they had in common was a taste for games and rock metal. Then in the summer, Sandrinha went to the interior of São Paulo. It was there that Bruno started to get more serious:
– Yeah, Tininha … our relationship was broken. I confess that I’m not very cool with this. I talked to her on the phone yesterday. I spent almost an hour in the pay phone line to talk for less than three minutes. She just said “uhum uhum”, no talk. I’m sad, Tininha, I don’t know what else to do.
– Man, Bruno, we’re on the beach, let’s enjoy it! Fuck Sandrinha, since when are you guys like this?
– Ah, since November …
– And when have you been together?
– Since the July vacation, when we went to the rental shop every day.
– Okay, Bruno, what happened in November for her to transform like this? Because until then she seemed like a nice girl!
– Oh, I don’t even know how to say that … is that … is that …
– I already know! Will you say that it was only in November that you started having sex?
– Fuck, Tininha, so you make me embarrassed! Said Bruno, flushed with embarrassment.
– Bruno, okay, the beautiful girl like that and you only ate her four months after you started dating?
– Okay, Tininha, I’m not cool like you … I was a virgin … – talking now almost crying with shame. We still have intimacy for this type of subject today.
I laughed. Tadinho do Bruno, what could have happened to Sandrinha to start rejecting him after having sex … And I think it’s very difficult that she was a virgin …
We arrived home shortly after 10 am. Bruno asked to go to the bathroom first. I waited for a while, and as soon as he left, I left for my ritual. It wasn’t as smelly as the times I ran, but I also didn’t want to give it a chance to be smelly.
When I got out of my bath, I went to the TV room and I found Bruno lying on the floor, with only a pillow as a pillow, passed out from sleep, and the TV on a channel passing drawing. I lay on the couch, and fell asleep too.
I woke up with my mom yelling from the kitchen that lunch was ready. Bruno had already risen. We went to the table outside. Our parents were not drinking the traditional ‘beer and drips’ and were not wearing beach clothes. After lunch, the four of them would go to Florianópolis to solve some uncle Alfredo’s notary’s problem. There was no roast meat. To speed it up, Mom made a blender and salad pie.
I helped collect the plates and cutlery, while my mother and Aunt Roberta were already washing and drying, in a hurry to get on the road soon. It was after 2 pm, the movement to Floripa would be intense.
The “beach aunts” would pass by in a few minutes. I invited Bruno to go to the beach with us. He agreed. I was ready since I got out of the shower. He went to exchange his hiking shorts for a black swim suit and a horrible tank top. I hate tank tops. It suits very few people. Black swim trunks, however, are the basics – I think most men get cats with black swim trunks. Bruno is skinny and tall, his little booty is too cute with black swim trunks! Who here doesn’t go to the beach specifically to keep an eye on their asses?
Our parents had already left. We took the cooler, threw a packet of ice, a couple of boxes of beer cans and headed to the beach to meet the aunts, who I think were already there, as I didn’t see them passing by while we cleaned the lunch table.
We got there, the five aunts were already with a cooler, but drinking caipirinha. We arrived with the beer. I think it was Brahma. When you’re young, you drink anything. Today I refuse to drink Brahma with the number of great craft beer options.
I took off my shirt and shorts, and invited Bruno to take a dip. Penha beach, where we were, has warm water and few waves. Virtually a swimming pool. And the good thing about being in a big group is that you can leave things, like a wallet, a house key, with the crowd and go diving carefree.
Bruno and I went for a swim. It was delicious that day, even though it was cloudy, the water was warm. Bruno was doing a handstand and I liked to float. There was no wave, so no surfing or catching an alligator. We spent about half an hour chatting in the water, then the thirst quenched. We went back to the sand.
We opened our box, took a can each. The aunties were all seated, some smoking, others passing a huge glass, those made of half a glass bottle, with a wonderful caipirinha.
That’s where it started. I took a sip, Bruno took another, and gives him beer on top. I started to get high, the dizziness and the pee hit. I nudged Bruno and said in my ear:
– Bruno, I need mijaaaaaar …!
– Hey, go Tininha!
– Fuck, Bruno, don’t you need to pee? Let’s go to the water, man!
– Okay, Tininha! – raising a little stagger. I think he was more drunk than me …
I got into the water, I went to the level of the water that hits the “soap dishes”. Bruno following me. I only pulled the elastic on the bottom of the bikini a little, and eased it. Wow, the feeling of relieving pee when we are too sharp is fantastic. Only loses to an orgasm!
– Bruno, tell me something. Tell me the truth, for me you can. What happened to Sandrinha mistreating you only after you started having sex?
– This subject again, Tininha? Let me forget about her!
– No, Bruno, no one messes with a friend of mine!
– Tininha, turn that page!
– Bruno, we are drunk, go … Tomorrow we forget this story. I want nasty details, tell me, go! I want to know everything!
– Tininha, it’s very embarrassing, I’m ashamed to even remember what led me to break up with her …
– Bruno, are you DONE with her? You didn’t say that!
– I finished. I already started my single vacation. And we ended up on the phone.
– Fuck, but you’re a scoundrel, boy! It doesn’t end on the phone! Gentleman rule number one!
– But she deserved it. I have no remorse, and I think neither does she.
– Go, what happened?
– So … I was finding everything very fun. You know, losing your virginity is too good a deal! I wanted to have sex every day, I bought a condom stock. It was she who took the initiative, back at her house. Classic, right … we took advantage of her parents’ departure, and our lovemaking evolved until we had sex. I couldn’t believe it, a cat like that fucking me, a strange nerd like me!
– Yeah, Sandrinha is really beautiful, she sent Bruno well! And so?
– And then it started to get complicated to have sex. There is always someone in my house. In her house the same thing. Then when everything went well, she either had a headache or menstruated. I tried everything …
– Wow, how sad, Bruno – for me, having sex was not as complicated as it was for him. He always went out with older guys, and it was normal to live alone, or with more liberal parents. It didn’t happen in my house, my mother was liberal, but she always made it clear to me that home is not a motel. In fact, I think it was her way of being liberal and maintaining a limit.
Bruno continued – Sad? That’s nothing. My sadness started last week, when I stopped by her house, and she wasn’t there. I had left for the market, which is not far from her house. Her mother insisted that I come in and wait, because she would be back soon.
– Is her mother fine?
– Yes, Mrs. Solange is very dear, she likes me. Trust a lot. You can’t even imagine that we were having sex. Then that day, while waiting for Sandrinha to return, I went to the computer room, which was next to the TV room, and decided to use the computer, which was on, but was not connected to the Internet at that time. It had an open ICQ screen *, and the conversation was still there. I know it’s wrong, but I read it. Not that I was searching. The screen was open, and I read it. I wasn’t even going to tamper with the computer. She was talking to a girl, I don’t remember the name, but I think it was someone in her class. The passage I read left me groundless, my body froze, I was even dizzy. She said she didn’t know how to break up with me. That I was cool and all, but sex was bad. That I had a very difficult problem to solve.
* pause for clarification – those who lived in the nineties understood this. Computers were not always connected to the Internet. We had to use a device connected to the phone line that made a lot of noise to connect to the Internet, and we couldn’t stay connected for a long time, because it was expensive. Hard times! ICQ was an instant communicator, a rudimentary Whatsapp.
– Oh, my, Bruno! Man, what problem is this so difficult to solve !?
– Tininha, that’s why I’m so embarrassed, but my … I’m drunk, fuck it, I’ll tell you. – talking and almost crying, Bruno lowered his voice – she said that my dick is very small, that it looks like a baby. Come on, Tininha, I know my dick is small, but you don’t have to tell everyone !! – reddening the eyes, full of tears.
I confess that I think I was more embarrassed than him. I never imagined that a boy could vent this kind of thing to a friend. It proved that, although he was nerdy and a little socially awkward, he still had a deep friendship with me. I started to understand why he was so reclusive at the beginning of his vacation.
The mood got weird, I really didn’t know what to say to him. Even when I was drunk, I was still aware enough not to play with it. We went back to the sand with the aunts. We continue to drink recklessly for our age. We were a little quieter after that conversation. We just laughed at the ladies’ jokes.
I was much more sexually experienced than him, but still, I had never had any sexual problems that involved anything more complex psychologically, so I had never worried about anything other than my own self-esteem, which like any 16 or 17 year old girl, is the best.
I think it can be said that it is a privilege that only men with small sticks have – incredible versatility for any type of blowjob.
I tried hard to make Bruno a beautiful mouthpiece. A boy so dear, so cool, deserves a blowjob done with whimsy.
I did it without my hands. Just holding the bag with my left hand, I smeared that stick well with saliva. He caressed my cheek, my chin. He breathed hard, but did not moan. I could see he was concentrating and having fun.
When he cared, I released his bag, pulled the stick to the side, and started to force the stick against the inside of the cheek, giving that drawing of the shape of the stick’s head on the cheek. He escaped. I pulled it back. It was very wet, he escaped again, and when I pulled the stick back he said “no …”, and he didn’t even have time.
It just gave a spasm, and trying to hold on, the second spasm came out. There, my friends and friends, he machine-gunned hard. I started to laugh, half drunk, half back to reason. His stick jumped and with every jump a massive drop of dense cum flew, which made a raindrop sound when one hit the ground. I don’t know how many spasms he gave.
We froze. We come to you. He quickly pulled on his trunks, put them back on. I hadn’t even taken off a piece of clothing, I was wearing a long T-shirt and a bikini, exactly as I came back from the beach.
I ran to the bathroom. My shirt had a considerable amount of cum. There was a long strand that came from the forehead, passing near the ear that curved up under my jaw.
I shouted from the bathroom – “I’m going to take a shower, okay?”. He replied only – “Okay”.
My pussy was clapping. Soaked. Right at the time of his cum, I had a sensation of “almost” orgasm, without even touching me.
I took off my clothes quickly. I threw it in the corner under the sink, left it ready to play in the sauce tank. If that fuck dried up, it would be weird for me.
I opened the hot shower, got under the shower. I foamed a lot with any soap that was around. I took that fucking face off. The dizziness of the drinking was overlaid by the adrenaline of the moment. I thought … Fuck, fuck it.
I returned naked to the room. Bruno still sitting, still in shock, but in a swimming trunks. He looked at me naked, he had never seen me naked. It took a little fright and it got frozen.
I said – “Take away” – in a tone like “do it quickly” …
He took off his swim trunks, cock half-shrunk, half-hard, all frill. I fit in front of him, he was still sitting. The penetration was very fast, there was no time to lose. Our parents could be around the corner and we didn’t even know. It was without a condom (the shit that I used to do sometimes, even though I took contraceptives).
I was adjusting the angle, forward, backward, I didn’t find the right fit. I never really told him, but I didn’t really feel the penetration right at that moment.
But then there was a moment when I leaned back, making him stretch his legs, and at that angle, he stuffing it as far as he could, the bag touching my ass, I started making small movements of eight, gave the fit. I don’t know what with what exactly, but his cock touched a region of my vagina, at the very top, just inside the entrance, that my friends …. It didn’t take long, I needed concentration to keep holding on. his legs to not fall on his back and come at the same time. It was a strong orgasm, to close my eyes and hold my breath.
I went back to the erect angle, sitting facing him, kneeling on the couch, with his cock still penetrated. He then had a chance to take my breasts. He brought the two together, kissed each one and filled my ego …
– With all due respect, Tininha … What a beautiful breast!
I gave a “wink” with the pussy, a little “pompoar”, and he felt and responded with a little jump from the stick. He opened a smile. He didn’t come again.
I lifted. I went back to the bath. I came out very fragrant, wrapped in the towel. I went to my room, put on a light outfit. I went back to the living room, and he was still seated, again with his trunks on.
– Bruno, take a shower. You smell like the sea, with cum, with pussy, honey …
He got up laughing out loud … He went to the shower while I was there in the room.
I chatted with him. I sent the real one – this small stick business is like that. There’s no way, you’re going to have to live with it. This is your body. Let’s keep this happening between us. It will be our secret, the key to our friendship.
Today more mature, I have my experience, my tastes, my taras. But I know that man to be a man, you have to know how to fuck. And woman too! Woman has to know how to fuck! You can’t leave the responsibility to just one.
At that time, we were teenagers, with a lot of accumulated lust. But if we didn’t find a way to relieve that lust, that sex wouldn’t have happened that way. Today I know that everyone, in a shag, is responsible for their orgasm. That’s what we did in practice, without the experience that both he and I have today. He came in my face, had his orgasm. I went back there and sought my orgasm. Was his cock small? It was, but it served for me to come too!
Real men and women give in to the moment. Self-esteem is part, everyone has to resolve theirs. Just like orgasm!