It was my senior year of high school, spring break, and I was sitting in my seat preparing myself for my first flight south of the border. A lot of firsts were going to happen this spring break, actually.

My varsity soccer team had qualified for an international invitational tournament in Mexico. It happened to coincide with our school's spring break, which meant that we were going to get to spend an entire week living it up in Campeche, on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico. And, with the approval of the wealthy parents of our private school, our coach had booked the entire varsity team's flight and hotel in one big group.

Most of my teammates had been to Mexico during spring break before, sometimes even without a parental chaperon. But not me. Slated to be valedictorian of our small private school, I had spent every previous spring break prepping for SATs or volunteering at a food bank to pad my college resume. It was a miracle that my parents even let me go on this trip, despite the fact that I'd already been accepted to Stanford for the following year.

Or at least, it was a partial miracle. Because, unlike the rest of my teammates' parents, my parents couldn't bear to let their little golden child out of their sight for even a week. So, I got to be the eighteen-year-old virgin loser whose parents were tagging along on the spring break trip. Yay.

Whatever. At least they had the decency to sit a few rows behind me, so I didn't have to associate with them every second of the flight. I had been assigned a window seat next to two of my teammates, Jessie and Kaitlyn. I liked Jessie alright--she was outgoing and funny. Pretty too, with her reddish curly hair and freckles. Life of the party type, but still kind. Jessie was our sweeper. You have to be pretty loud to do that job. Kaitlyn wasn't as outgoing as Jessie, or as funny, but she was still very much the popular type. Long bleached blonde hair, tall and shapely. I didn't know Kaitlyn as well off the field, but she and I played well together as dual center midfielders and I liked her well enough.

The two of them were already busy giggling about the cute flight attendant, leaving me alone with my nose in a book.

So there I was, with the seat in its upright and locked position, ready for takeoff.

The flight went pretty smoothly. It was hard to get much reading done with my teammates gossiping the entire time, and I couldn't help but eavesdrop a little. I got to learn a bit about who had a crush on which boy and what kinds of crazy shit happened at last week's party, all of that. As the smart kid on the team, it was sometimes hard to break into the group dynamic. My teammates were never rude to me or anything, but I still had never really felt like I was part of their social group, and I certainly didn't have the time to socialize outside of practice. It was clear that they didn't quite know how to interact with me either. But all of that stuff seemed to fall away when we were on the field together. Playing soccer was one of the only times I ever felt like I really belonged anywhere. And it let me get out from under my parents' thumbs, which was another plus.

"--hello? Earth to Quinn!" Jessie's voice cut through my drifting thoughts.

"Oh, what?" I responded, looking up and focusing on what Jessie had said to me.

"I said, what are you doing reading a book when we're on spring break?" Jessie said with a playful nudge. "You're going to have to come out of that shell eventually."

"Hah, yeah," I said noncommittally.

"Did you hear what we were talking about earlier, about going out tonight? They basically have no drinking age in Mexico," Jessie said, clearly making an effort to include me.

"Oh, um, no, I don't think so," I said in my usual quiet way. "I'm kind of tired... I'll probably just find my hotel room and go to bed. Plus, my parents are here..." I let my voice drift off in an attempt to get Jessie to drop the subject.

"Rejecting the invitation before it's even offered! Bold move!" Jessie said with an easy smile. "I'm not giving up that easy, Vernon. You're going to have some fun this week whether you like it or not!"

Feeling uncomfortable with so much attention, I smiled back and gave a half-hearted laugh as I replied, "Okay, haha," with a shy smile.

"Dude, I don't know how it's possible for you to be such a beast on the field when you're such a meek little mouse the rest of the time," Jessie pushed.

"I'm not that meek," I protested, feeling a bit attacked. "I just have other interests."

"Yeah, sure," Jessie replied, her voice heavy with sarcasm. "Your parents have other interests, you mean."

I fell silent at that, feeling the sting of truth in her words.

Jessie noticed my change in demeanor and stopped pushing so hard. She turned to Kaitlyn on her other side and said, "Quinn's coming out with us tonight, cool?"

Kaitlyn's eyebrows raised just a bit, but her tone was light. "Yeah, of course. Stick with us, Virgin--we'll show you how it's done," she replied in a teasing voice. Ugh, that nickname. It had stuck to me before the kids at school even knew what it meant. It wasn't even very original; it just vaguely resembled my last name.

"Not for long if we can help it!" Jessie quipped back, winking at me as she did so, which took some of the sting out of the nickname. I smiled at her, a twinge of excitement creeping through my body as it occurred to me that I might actually be going out drinking tonight.

When we landed at the Campeche airport, our coach and parent chaperons gathered the team up to find our luggage before we filed into the reserved bus that would take us to our hotel. It turned out that our hotel was actually a beautiful hacienda, located roughly equidistant from the beach and one of the bigger city markets. It was absolutely gorgeous.

The team waited out front while the adults checked us all into our rooms. Unfortunately, my parents being who they are, had insisted on booking my reservation separately from the rest of the team, under the pretense that "I would get better sleep if I didn't have to share a room".

So, I watched as my teammates planned out their sleeping arrangements in their groups of four while I stood with my parents. So much for a team bonding experience.

After a few minutes of everyone getting settled, I noticed that Jessie, Kaitlyn and our goalkeeper, Roach, were talking together and seemed to be looking at me. I cocked my head at Jessie, trying to figure out what they were saying, and Jessie noticed and waved me over.

"Hey Quinn, we have an extra spot in our room. Why don't you stay with us?" she said when I got close. My heart skipped a beat at the thought. It would be nice to be able to hang out with my teammates instead of having to stay with my parents all week. I never seemed to get to be part of the group. My mom had always made sure of that. There was always some reason, some excuse, that I needed to leave early, or have my own room, or eat some special kind of lunch away from the other kids. Always for my own good, of course. But it meant that I just never really felt like I belonged.

Thank god for Jessie, though. She really did seem to want me around, and it was nice to feel that way for once.

"Um..." I started to respond with a smile, "yeah, that sounds cool!" As soon as the answer escaped my lips, I heard my mother's voice behind me as she lightly grabbed my wrist to turn me back around.

"Quinn, I don't think it's a good idea for you to share a room before the tournament," she started. Her fun-radar was honestly astounding. How had she even heard Jessie ask me? "You're such a light sleeper, and you really need your rest before the game tomorrow morning. And we got a suite so that you'll have your own room, your own bed, everything you need," she continued quietly but firmly.

"But--" I started to object.

"No buts," my mom cut me off. "You know how important it is to keep your stats up. Stanford is still watching you, and any slip in your standing could keep you off the team next year."

I nodded in agreement. It was pointless to argue with her. She had an answer for everything.

My mom noticed the surrender in my body language and perked up a bit. "But how about this," she continued with a magnanimous smile. "You stay in the suite with your dad and me until the end of the tournament. And after you win, you can have a slumber party the last few days with your little friends. They can even come to our suite and we'll make virgin margaritas to celebrate!"

"Yeah, okay," I replied in defeat. It was hard to be frustrated with her when she always went above and beyond to give me everything I could possibly need. My mom nodded at me in approval and turned to Jessie and the others.

"Did you ladies hear that?" my mom asked them. "Quinn is going to stay in her own room with us until after the tournament is over. But she can join you all in your room later in the week."

Kaitlyn and Roach looked at me with a mix of pity and annoyance, but Jessie didn't seem fazed. "Sounds good, Mrs Vernon," she replied. "Quinn's so lucky to have a mom that looks out for her so much," she said without a hint of sarcasm. But as Jessie turned back toward Kaitlyn and Roach, she gave me a subtle nod of solidarity.

As the evening wrapped up, I followed my parents to our suite and diligently got ready for bed, sure that my teammates were already out having a blast while I stood there brushing my teeth.

Saturday was a whirlwind. We had a double-header for the first round of the tournament and ended up winning both games, despite the fact that around half of our players seemed to be hung over. I was on fire, though. Scored in both games, plus a couple of assists. And inevitably, after our two awesome games, we went out for dinner as a team. And equally inevitably, my parents tagged along and pulled me away just as my teammates were getting ready for another night on the town.

So, with aching envy in my heart, I walked back to the hotel once again alongside my parents. Thankfully, we weren't scheduled for a game on Sunday, so maybe I'd get to explore Campeche a bit more. Maybe even escape the never-ceasing watchfulness of my mom.

The next morning, after having missed out on the festivities the past two nights, I was feeling a really strong urge to do something extreme. Thankfully, the market was relatively nearby, and my parents were fully supportive of me going out and practicing my Spanish among the locals during daylight hours. So, around 10:30, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, I grabbed my bag, impulsively throwing a halter top and a jean mini skirt inside, and informed my parents that I wanted to explore the market while my teammates were still asleep.

"Wonderful idea, Quinn," my mom replied, beaming with pride. "You should pick up some souvenirs to give your teachers when you get back to school. And probably something for your grandmother too. She'd love to know you were thinking of her," she continued, not recognizing the irony that now I'd be buying those gifts out of obligation and not my own desire.

"But make sure you're back by five o'clock!" she added. "Your dad and I made a reservation at a fancy restaurant. You can bring one of your friends if you want! Our treat!"

"Okay," I replied, not having the energy to argue with her. It would be nice to be able to spend some time as part of the team, but it just wasn't going to happen with Mom around.

"Mary-Ellen," my dad chimed in carefully from their bedroom. "Maybe Quinn should join her teammates for their dinner instead. They have a lot to celebrate, and she doesn't get the chance to spend much time with them during the semester, with all of the studying she does."

My mom pursed her lips at that suggestion but ultimately seemed to decide against fighting about it. "If that's what she wants to do," she replied. Then, turning back toward me, she repeated, "Either way, be back by five o'clock. It can be dangerous to be in the city by yourself in the evening. And your Spanish really isn't where it needs to be to get around properly." 

"Yep," I replied, avoiding eye contact in the hope that she wouldn't find something else to say before I could escape.

Making brief eye contact with my dad as a silent thanks for coming to my rescue, I darted out of the hotel room and quickly speed-walked to the front of the hotel.

Finally free and on my own, I slowed my pace a bit. What should I do? I could do anything at this point. There was no one with me, no one watching over my shoulder or following me. It was just me, in a foreign city, with a passport and some cash. And some slutty clothes tucked away, for some reason. No way was I going to spend this brief moment of freedom buying souvenirs for my teachers; I was going to do something fun.

As I continued walking toward the city center, my thoughts started to race while imagining the possibilities. Where should I go? I knew one thing: I wanted to find myself some alcohol.

So, not really knowing the procedure for finding alcohol in a random Mexican city, I sat down at a nearby restaurant to get my bearings and check out their menu. Seeing the words "piña colada", I decided to go for it. I was easily over the drinking age in Mexico, but the waiter didn't even think to card me when I ordered. I waited the five minutes it took for my frozen drink to arrive, growing more excited by the moment.

When the waiter finally returned with my drink, I sat there with my drink in hand, basking in the freedom it represented. It wasn't much of a rebellion, but it was mine. And I was going to fucking enjoy it.

I sipped the sugary drink slowly from my newfound place of agency and watched the pedestrians outside. I felt like an adult for the first time in my life. All because I had ordered a piña colada by myself.

I stayed at the restaurant for lunch, ordering a few more piña coladas and some food. But as I ate my lunch, a deeper itch started to form in the pit of my stomach. This wasn't enough. I wanted something more. I wanted to experience something. I wanted risk. Alcohol wasn't going to cut it. Tingling with a sense of urgency and discomfort, I quickly paid for my meal, and before I left the restaurant, I took a trip to the bathroom and changed into my floral halter top and mini skirt. I let my hair down from its usual ponytail, flipping my sun-bleached locks to frame my face in the mirror. Finally feeling ready to take on the world, I left the restaurant, searching for something to satisfy this growing need within me.

Finally, it hit me. I was a young American teenager surrounded by men who felt perfectly fine whistling at me and grabbing their crotches as I walked by. Surely, I could find someone moderately attractive to hang out with. Maybe I could even kiss someone. My mind started to wander, imagining the possibilities and realizing that the tingling sensation was starting to cluster between my legs. I suddenly found myself wondering if I would be able to find the word for "condom" in my Spanish pocket dictionary. I could feel my face flush as more and more scandalous thoughts whisked through my teenage mind.

Finally, being sure to pay attention to my surroundings, I found a seedy-looking bar. Now certain of what I wanted, I hatched a plan. I ordered a beer from the bartender and started sipping on it. Slowly. I didn't want to actually get drunk. I just wanted it to look like I might be drunk. Sitting in my jean mini skirt, my tanned, toned legs crossed in front of me, I scoured the bar for a potential target.

Knowing what I wanted gave me a sense of power I had never experienced before. It was exhilarating. I felt this sense of certainty that I could have any man I wanted. And I was going to.

After a few minutes, I noticed a group of three young men enter the bar. It was hard to tell how old they were, but my guess was mid-twenties. They were good looking, though nothing spectacular. Though one of them in particular, the middle one, looked intriguing. He had those deep, penetrating eyes and a hint of dangerous appeal. A minuscule grin started to form at the edge of my mouth as my eyes narrowed with decisiveness.

It briefly occurred to me that they might not be interested. But I was too far gone to let that thought take root. I was high on adrenaline, along with being ever so slightly tipsy. And it was going to stay that way. I wanted to savor and remember every second of today.

So I simply watched the three of them take a seat at a nearby table, chatting together in Spanish, much faster than I was able to parse. And instead of averting my eyes and shrinking into myself as I would have done in the past, I let myself keep my gaze steady and directed. There was no mistaking that I was looking at them. Or the way I was looking at them. And within a few seconds, they were looking back.

The middle guy noticed me first. His eyes locked with mine, and instead of looking away, I tilted my head ever so slightly and cocked my eyebrow with a confidence that was only partially feigned. I lifted my bottle of beer to my lips and took a tiny sip, never letting my eyes leave his. The other two were quick to follow his line of sight, and suddenly I was the center of attention.

After no time at all, the three of them seemed to come to a collective decision as they stood up and walked over to my table. They asked if they could sit with me, and of course, careful to remain nonchalant, I said yes.

What followed was about twenty minutes of very light conversation in my mediocre, broken Spanish. They asked me how old I was, and when I said I was eighteen, they were quick to indicate that they were also eighteen. I had my doubts--they definitely seemed older than that to me--but it didn't really matter. They asked me why I was here, and I told them about the soccer tournament. They asked where my friends were, and I told them they were still asleep at the hotel. And that I wanted to see the city by myself. I wanted to have fun. Did they know of anywhere we could have fun?

I quickly learned their names. Santiago was the good looking, stoic and quiet one with penetrating eyes. Then there was Diego, also good looking, and Carlos, not really my type but very talkative. They bought me another beer, and I sipped on it, careful to stay alert and in control. Eventually, they tried to buy me yet another beer, but I really didn't want to be impaired, so I declined, claiming that I was already too drunk. It was a lie, but I could tell that the idea excited them, and they accepted it without question. I even caught them exchange a couple of knowing glances afterward.

Since I had declined their offer of another drink, they finally asked if I wanted them to show me around the city. So we ended up walking back through the market, and we found a seat on a park bench near the fountain. I made sure that I was seated next to Santiago, but I still wasn't sure he was the one I wanted. Honestly, being the center of attention of all three guys was intoxicating enough as it was.

But the conversation quickly ran up against the limits of my Spanish abilities, and I started to get bored. Finding a burst of bravery, I leaned over to Santiago and quietly whispered to him, "¿Quieres ir a otro lugar?" which probably wasn't the most natural way of asking if he wanted to go somewhere else, but it certainly got my point across.

He perked up at the suggestion and asked if I meant all four of us or just him and me, and I responded in a low whisper, "Solos". He nodded, grabbing my hand as he stood up. I didn't quite follow the rest of the conversation, but from what I gathered, he told Diego and Carlos that he and I were leaving together. Their response was a mixture of disappointment and lewd smirking as Santiago, and I walked away.

Once we were on our own, Santiago asked me where I wanted to go. I had no idea. I was high on adrenaline and willing to do almost anything at this point, but I was also starting to have flashes of fear. What the hell was I doing, going off alone with some random guy I don't know in a foreign country, after all the stories I've heard about girls getting kidnapped here?? What on earth was my plan here?

Santiago didn't seem like a genuinely scary guy, and so far he hadn't been pushing me to do anything. It had all been me. But I couldn't stop the racing thoughts. At the same time, I wanted this. I wanted to have an experience. An experience that wasn't sanctioned by my overbearing mother. One that was all mine.

So I finally suggested that we find a hotel. We went up to the front desk of the first one we found, but Santiago didn't have enough money. Technically, I had a credit card with me and quite possibly enough cash to cover an hour or two in a hotel, but there was no fucking way I was going to leave a paper trail that I had rented a hotel room in the middle of the day in Mexico. So I told him I didn't have any money either. He was a bit irritated at that but accepted it. It was probably a smart decision to say that I didn't have any money, though. Chances are he was harmless, but since I was already being reckless, probably good to not paint a target on my back by flaunting wealth. I consoled myself with that thought as we walked away from the hotel to find somewhere else.

We wandered through the streets, neither of us really knowing what to do. I started to get that bored feeling again. This was not going to end with me walking through a street with a guy! I was at least going to kiss him, dammit.

Not long after that, Santiago led us to a park. It seemed relatively empty, though a few pedestrians were walking around. We stopped on a bench and sat down to get our bearings a bit.

Not wanting to let the moment pass, I looked deeply into Santiago's eyes, daring him to kiss me. He leaned over with his full weight, pushing his tongue into my mouth in a wet, slobbery kiss. It wasn't exactly the romantic moment I had fantasized about, but hey, it was something. His breath tasted like stale cigarettes and his hands were rough as they explored the outside of my clothing. Part of me wanted to spit out the cigarette-flavored saliva and go back to the safety of my hotel, but at this point, I was too determined. Dammit, he's going to be my prince charming, I thought to myself. Even if I have to pretend he's someone else. I tried to think about anything besides the cigarette taste.

As his coarse hands were grabbing at my breasts, a couple passed close by on the path through the park. Shit. This wasn't going to work. It was too exposed.

Santiago grabbed my hand and led me further into the woods, deeper into the park. We found ourselves seated on an old abandoned stone wall off the main path in an area that seemed a bit more secluded, and we settled back into our kissing.

This time, instead of outside my shirt, Santiago's hand found its way to the edge of my skirt. His muscled arms pried my inexperienced thighs apart and he placed his middle finger on the outside of my panties and started to rub, rough and fast.

It had been only a few months since I had first even explored my own body enough to reach an orgasm, so I was hardly an expert on the subject at this point. But even from my relative inexperience, I could tell that what Santiago was doing wasn't going to lead to any sort of climax. Yet, despite his clumsiness and roughness, I found myself growing more and more excited. I was getting used to the cigarette taste, and I started to let myself make noises.

As soon as I started to moan, Santiago grabbed my hand and placed it on his crotch. I could feel his erection through his jeans, but I didn't quite know what to do with it. I moved my hand in circles against the bulge in his pants as he slid his finger past my panties and rubbed hard against a spot about an inch above my clit.

Frustrated and embarrassed, I didn't know what to do, but I started to feel that bored feeling creep in again. Santiago seemed to be feeling just as frustrated, so he moved my hand away from his crotch and unzipped his jeans, freeing his throbbing uncircumcised cock from his pants as he sat next to me on the stone wall.

That was the first penis I'd seen up close like that. I was entranced as I watched him start to stroke himself. He grabbed my hand and pushed it against his cock, and I did my best to stroke it as he had been doing. But my motion was stiff and jerky, and I didn't know what I should be doing. My hand fell still around his cock as he continued to poke around with his hand under my skirt. It wasn't working.

Santiago finally stood up and awkwardly squeezed his torso between my legs, pulling my panties to the side. His knees were bent at an odd angle because the height of the wall was just slightly too low, but he managed to almost line himself up. I could feel his thick cock pressing up against the delicate folds of my pussy, but again, he had placed it much too high. He started thrusting, several inches away from my opening, growing ever more frustrated as he couldn't seem to find my entrance.

All the while, I wasn't even sure if I was ready to have full-blown sex. I'd never even held a cock in my hands before today. And what about condoms? Do they use condoms in Mexico? All of my insecurities and fears started tumbling back through my mind as I realized the stupidity of the situation I had put myself in. What if I get pregnant? I can't have a baby at eighteen! I can't have sex with this guy without a condom! And what about STDs? What the hell was I thinking?

Santiago readjusted himself, lowering and pushing his cock closer to my opening, but still with no success at actually penetrating me. Even when he lined it up perfectly, the angle I was sitting at wouldn't let him inside me. And with my tumbling thoughts, I was not really any help. He kept kissing me with more intensity and force, his tongue almost choking me as it explored the back of my throat.

I glanced down at my watch, realizing it was nearly 4:30. Shit! I told my mom I'd be back by five o'clock! Finally realizing and accepting that it just wasn't going to happen today, I told Santiago that I needed to leave.

He was not happy with that idea. He groaned at me, thrusting harder against the outside of my pussy and grabbing my tits with urgency. He placed his mouth against my ear, grunting "Necesito acabar."

Being a decent Spanish learner and someone who enjoyed saying curse words in foreign languages, I knew exactly what he had just said to me. It titillated me, hearing someone tell me they needed to cum. A shiver ran through my body, culminating at my clit as I suddenly ached with sexual need. I wanted him to cum. I wanted to see him cum. This was it, what I had been expecting all this time.

But I still didn't want him to cum inside me. The threat of disease and pregnancy was too much. I stood up and kissed him firmly on the mouth and leaned up against a nearby tree. I pulled up my top, exposing my breasts, and said, "Okay". He seemed to know what I meant for him to do, and he immediately grabbed my right tit with one hand and started pumping his other rapidly up and down the length of his cock.

I gasped for air as the sensation of his hand on my nipple sent tingling shock waves through my body. My clit spasmed with excitement as I watched Santiago jerk himself while he grabbed me and stared at me with such animal urgency. His eyes never left my breasts as he continued to pump his hand up and down the length of his now purple and engorged cock. He started moaning as his hand sped up, and finally, his eyes clenched closed in a grimace as his hand twisted my nipple and he spent himself onto the ground in front of me, some of it landing on my foot and leg. I watched as spurt after spurt of white fluid splattered onto the leaves, moaning with pleasure as I watched him pump the last few drops from his cock, his hand still firmly on my breast.

After he had finished, Santiago grabbed me around the waist and kissed me fiercely up against the tree. I sighed as waves of exhilaration crashed over me. I was more turned on than I had ever been in my life. I felt like I could probably cum right there if I had even a few minutes to myself.

But no. I needed to get back to the hotel. I would need to hurry if I was going to make it back by five. So I told Santiago again that I needed to leave. He mutely agreed, and he walked me back toward my hotel. I was a bit worried about leading him all the way back because I wasn't sure I wanted him to know exactly where I was staying. But I couldn't figure out a way to get him to leave. Finally reaching the main road, I told him that I could find my way back from there.

Saying goodbye, he leaned in, roughly shoving me up against the building at the corner into another violent kiss. Moaning slightly, I closed my eyes kissed him back, letting one leg lift up around his ass as he pushed himself against me. Overwhelmed by the intense feeling of power and freedom I was feeling, I slowly allowed my eyes to open once more.
I realized in horror that I was looking straight into the angry eyes of my mother, who, accompanied by a couple of my teammates, had just turned down the street to find me making out with a random dude on a street corner.

Kaitlyn and Roach had apparently been leaving the hotel lobby right when my mom decided she needed to go down to the market to find me, despite the fact that it wasn't even after five yet.

Kaitlyn's eyes were wide as she took in the scene of me making out with a random guy, and Roach looked like she was about to burst out laughing. Thankfully, my mom is allergic to outright confrontation, preferring to have her fights in the privacy and safety of her own space. So, instead of yelling at me in front of my teammates, she simply pursed her lips in the usual way, her hand on one hip as she watched me with disapproval. Acutely aware of the splatter of semen drying on my leg, I quickly disentangled myself from Santiago's embrace. Using whatever presence of mind was left to me, I somehow managed to overcome my terror, and I actually had the audacity to introduce Santiago to my mother and vice versa.

I think my mom was as shocked by that fact as I was, and she was surprisingly polite to him as I made the most awkward introduction of my life. In the end, I was quick to say "adiós" to Santiago, and I walked back to the hacienda with my mom in complete silence while Kaitlyn and Roach left toward town.

To this day, my mom has never said anything to me about that interaction with Santiago. She never asked where I met him, what we did, or anything else. I think she's blocked it out of her memory.

But I certainly didn't block it out.

In fact, I was still so turned on by the whole affair that as soon as I returned to the hotel room and my mom went out on the balcony with my dad, I laid down on the couch in the hotel room, and my mind wandered back over the events of the day. Acutely aware that my parents were out on the porch, only separated from me by a thin sheeting, I shoved my hand between my legs and started furiously rubbing. And unlike Santiago, I knew exactly where my clit was.

After the adrenaline rush of being caught by my mom compounded with the intense arousal I'd experienced earlier when Santiago jerked off beside me, I was sopping wet. My fingers slid through the folds of my aching pussy, encircling my clit and sending spasms of pleasure through my entire body.

I closed my eyes, remembering the feeling in the park as Santiago grabbed my breast and came all over the ground and brought myself to a quick, urgent, pulsating orgasm. I could barely keep myself from screaming as the waves of pleasure overtook me, and I pressed my mouth into the side of the couch to muffle the high-pitched squeaks that escaped. Knowing that my parents could walk back in at any moment only made me cum harder and faster.

After my climax, I collapsed onto the couch and stared up at the ceiling, lost in delirium and amazement at what I had done that day. It had been dangerous. Reckless. Amazing. Powerful.

As I relaxed, prone on the hotel couch, I felt a sense of calm confidence wash over me. I made that happen today. I decided do do something on my own, and I did it. Maybe it hadn't been the smartest decision, and it easily could have gone horribly wrong, but it had been fine. More than fine!

After I caught my breath, I stood up in front of the hotel mirror. Where before I had seen a meek, naive schoolgirl, now I saw something new taking root. I had experienced what it felt like to make a decision, to take control of my own future.

I had a taste for it now.

Author’s Note: As mentioned at the beginning, the events of “Necesito Acabar” constitute a true recounting of events from my past, and this marks the end of that true story. However, Quinn’s story will continue as full fiction in several sequels, so stay tuned! Thanks for reading! If you have any feedback, comments or questions, I would love to hear from you! My contact information is available in my bio.