Cultural Exchange 4 - Unspoken (Patreon)

I thought about opening the video right then; I was pretty sure it was the tribute I had been eagerly awaiting. But I decided to delay the reward. There was someone I wanted to share it with anyway. I slipped a hand between my legs and rubbed my slit until I drifted off; I was more tired than horny.

During my sleep, images of Marcos rubbing my feet came. We were sitting in my backyard, and he rubbed my feet and my toes.

I was naked, and as he rubbed, I played with my tits. Then a hand touched my pussy; it was Clara. She was standing behind me, kissing my neck as she lightly rubbed my slit. Suddenly, Marcos was gone, and I felt sad and abandoned. But Clara kept stimulating me, almost making me forget about him.

My alarm sounded exactly at 5:30 like every morning. My right hand was tucked neatly between my thighs, rubbing on my pussy; it was soaking wet. I silenced my alarm, and my hand went right back to between my legs. My hips started moving, grinding on my hand.

I bit my pillow in order to muffle my moans. I kept remembering Clara's hands on my naked body from my dream and Marcos' foot massage. As soon as I slid a finger inside me, my pussy clenched around it and my legs quivered. I let out a loud moan, and I bit harder into the pillow, trying not to wake up my parents with my pleasure noises.

Once I settled down, I looked at my phone; the notification from Marco's video was still there, along with a message from Clara.

I tapped on Clara's message, avoiding the obviously sexual content from Marcos, at least for now.

"Good morning, Shime! I hope you had pleasant dreams like I did," was Clara's message.

"I did. I dreamt of you! I'll tell you all about it later. Wine call?" I replied.

"You tease! Yes!! Wine call, I can't wait; now go and bake your way into France!" She replied.

"I will. See you later, mon chérie," I replied.

"It's ma chérie, Shime!" she wrote.

That brief exchange brightened up my morning, although the orgasm also helped. I got out of bed and went downstairs to start baking.

My mom unexpectedly got out of bed shortly after, set the coffee maker, and came to the kitchen island where I do my kneading.

"Good morning, sweetheart. What are you up to?" she asked.

"Just doing some conchas; the croissants are in the oven, and next I'll do some orejas," I replied without stopping my kneading.

"Oh! They are croissants now? Yesterday they were cuernitos," she said with a silly grin. "I used to be good with puff pastry; do you want me to help you with the orejas?" she asked.

"Yeah, uhm, sure, but, I mean, you don't know my recipe," I replied.

"But you could teach me, right? Come on, let me help you," she said.

My mom and I started kneading together; she put a lot of effort into learning my recipe and the way I did things. I had to struggle a bit; she's sort of set in her ways, but in the end she agreed to follow my lead, since baking is all about precise recipes.

We actually had loads of fun talking and baking until it was time for me to start deliveries. Thanks to her help, I was able to bake some extra pastries, which meant more income at the end of the day.

The wine call time almost came, and before getting ready, I sent Clara a message: "I got a tribute last night; I haven't seen it. Do you want to watch it with me?"

"Yes, Shime! Ça me chauffe!" she replied. For me, it was also very exciting to have an outlet for both fantasies that had been occupying my mind the last few days.

When I received Clara's call, I was already naked in bed. The anxiety of seeing the tribute with her made my heart rush and my body sweat. My skin was already covered in tiny droplets even before she came on the screen.

"SHIME! Tu es tres belle! I love your top today!" She said, noticing my bare tits. 

I lowered the phone, pointing the camera at my crotch. "And my bottoms match!" I said. Just then I noticed she wasn't in the bathtub as she had been on previous days. "No bath today?" I asked.

"Not yet; I plan on sweating a bit before that," she replied, and she lay on her bed.

"I'm sweating now, look," I said and did a close-up of my breasts, shimmering with beads of sweat.

"That's too hot. So, the tribute, why didn't you see it right away?" She asked.

"I wanted to wait for you. And to make him wait for my reaction," I replied.

"JAJAJAJA, Shime! Don't be mean to Marc; he just wants you to enjoy it!" she said.

"His name is Marcos; this is Marc," I said, while I showed the toy to her. ". And yes, I know he wants me to enjoy, but he sent it just as I was about to fall asleep. I didn't have the energy for it. Also, I really wanted to do this together with you," I replied.

I could see her blush, and that made it all the more intimate for me.

"So, do you really want to see some random guy jerking to a picture of me with a toy sticking out of my pussy?" I asked. My whole body shivered at the thought of sharing something so openly sexual with her. This time, intentionally.

"MAIS OUAIS!!! FUCK YEAH, SHIME!! I would share something similar, but I have no man jerking off to me right now," she said.

"Not that you know of," I said, and we both laughed.

"Are you ready?" I asked and she nodded.

I shared my screen with her and took a deep breath. She could see me navigating my phone until I found Marcos' chat. There were four unread messages I hadn't noticed. 

"Good night, Ximenita. I'm sorry I took so long, but I had a busy couple of days with Mia." That first message felt more reassuring than I expected. He was not with another woman; he was spending time with her daughter.

"I had loads of fun recording this for you, you'll see."

"Next I want a video of you sucking on Marc as you moan. I want to hear my name at least once." Fuck, now he was making requests. The idea of recording something so naughty made me excited, though.

The fourth message was the video. I translated all the messages for Clara, and she said, "I want to see that too!" We both laughed, and my hand shook as I opened the video.

He seemed to be in a public restroom stall with his tablet resting over the closed lid of the toilet. On the tablet, my picture, the one I sent to Clara as well, was on the screen.

"This is for you, Ximenita," he said in a whisper, and his fat cock approached the tablet. He was hard and leaking precum. He gave his cock a couple of slow strokes.

"Mon dieu! He will split your tiny pussy in half!" Clara said, and I laughed.

I wanted to laugh, but I was too mesmerized by Marcos' cock to react at all.

With my free hand, I reached out for Marc and wrapped my fingers around it, pretending it was Marcos' cock. I moved it to my pussy and started rubbing my clit with it. I was soaked, and the wet noises surprised me.

On the screen, the scene had changed. Now the tablet was lying on the grass in Marcos' backyard. His hand was stroking his cock faster, and he started grunting.

"I've been thinking of you all day, Ximenita; I've been building this load for you," he said as he rubbed his cock on the tablet, smearing it with precum.

Then, when the video was quiet, I heard Clara emit a little moan. It was barely audible, and the small window where her video was didn't allow me to see her face clearly.

"This is so hot; I've been in his backyard; it's not private," I said.

Clara let out a whimper, and I couldn't help myself. I turned the vibrator on and prayed Clara couldn't hear it. The vibration caught me by surprise, and a grunt escaped my mouth. I tried seeing if Clara reacted to it; she had a naughty smile on her lips but said nothing.

On the video, after a few drops of precum landed on the tablet, the video cut again.

The new scene was in a small, dim-lit room with a long wooden bench. This time Marcos aimed the camera at his face. He was wearing a white robe. "I'm at the sauna Ximenita; I'd love to bring you here. Have you ever fucked in a sauna with the risk of getting caught? Shall we?" He said and then dropped his robe. He pointed the camera towards the tablet placed on the bench and started masturbating.

The shot became blurry, probably from the steam, but it was obvious he was jerking faster now.

"Marcos is very hot! And naughty too!" Clara said. Her moaning was getting more obvious, and her flush face was undeniable.

I aligned the vibrator towards my vagina and slid it in. I let out a loud moan and bit my lip. I pushed the dildo all the way into me, and I squirmed at the vibration hitting me deeply inside. The rotating beads were stimulating my pussy lips while I rubbed my clit lightly.

"Oh, fuck!" Marcos' voice distracted me. I thought he was coming, but instead he rushed, and the video shook. After a few frantic seconds, he faced the camera and said, "We almost got caught, Ximenita. What do you say if we take this to a more private place?"

The screen went black, and I focused on Clara. Her phone was shaking lightly, making it hard to focus. She was trying and failing to hide her moans, and I let out an intentional "Oh, god!" which opened the floodgates for her, and she started panting, moaning, and grunting freely.

"We're here, Ximenita. Are you ready for this?" Marcos said in the video. This time we were in a bedroom. The tablet was on the bed, and he approached it and pretended to fuck my photo, thrusting his cock.

"Do you think he'll cum? I want to see him bathe you in his semen," Clara said.

"Mmmm, I've been dreaming of getting bathed in his semen so much," I replied. Marcos was stroking slowly at first, then he increased his speed. He would occasionally scoop up a drop of his precum and use it as lube.

"I'm getting close; be ready," he said under his breath.

He grunted and jerked faster than before, until a thick rope of cum bathed my pussy in the picture. Three more streams came out of his cock, followed by some drops. His seed landed all over the tablet and the bed. He used his cock to smear it all around and then turned the camera to his face.

"Now I need to see you blow Marc; enjoy the video." He said, and the recording ended.

I hesitated for a second as to what to do. I stopped sharing my screen, and I was met with the beautiful image of a flushed Clara; she was obviously still going. So was I.

We didn't say a word. We shared the silent secret of masturbation, looking at each other's eyes. The dildo went in and out of me almost fully. I had to increase the speed on the beads.

"Oh Shime!" Clara said. I was already close, but her sexy voice saying my name took me there.

"Oh, god! Clara! I'm… I'm… Ohhhhhhhh YEAH!" I said as my legs shook and I dropped the phone to grab my tits as I came.

I turned off the dildo, but my pussy was too sensitive to pull it out yet. 

My hands found the phone, and I saw Clara starting her orgasm. "Oh, Shime, mon coeur! Putain! YES!!!" She shouted as I saw her shaking.

We both stared at each other in silence, our breathing slowly settling. For a second I got lost in her deep, dark eyes, and without noticing it, my breathing matched hers.

I was unsure what to say to break the tension. It seemed like neither of us wanted to acknowledge what just happened.

"So, Shime," Clara finally said, and her voice startled me. "When are you going to make that video for Marcos?"

Instead of replying, I slowly slid the toy out of my vagina, moaning in the process, and started recording my screen. I moved my phone away, opening the shot and showing my sweaty tits.

The dildo came into the shot; it smelled like me, like my pussy, and it was still dripping. "I've been dreaming of doing this to you, Marcos. For now Marc will have to do," I said and licked the tip of the toy. Then my mouth opened wide, and I took the toy as deep as I could.

"Oh, mon Dieu!" Clara said.

I pushed it a bit further, and I gagged. The toy went in deeply a couple more times, making me gag each time. My eyes watered and a couple of tears streamed down my cheeks. I blew on the toy for a few seconds, and I moaned for him. Then I made a close-up of my face and pulled the toy out of my mouth, making a pop! sound. I kissed the tip of the fake cock and winked at the camera. Then I stopped recording.

"What should I ask of him next?" I asked.

Clara's face was one of shock; she was literally speechless. My mind started racing with the idea that including her on the video for Marcos was too much, or maybe our masturbation session was weighing on her.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, Clara said, "Have him send a daily video masturbating for a week without cumming. Then on the final day he'll do a tribute to our feet," she said, and my panic eased.

"Our feet?" I asked.

"Yes, I can send a pic if you want to include me. I mean, you already did, right?" she said with her playful smile.

"I love it. I'll give him the instructions, but we'll send the feet pic the day of the tribute as a surprise," I said.

"Alright, Shime, I have to go; I really need a shower, and this guy needs a good wash too," she said, showing me her black dildo.

"Ok, this was amazing; we should do it again," I said.

"Anytime," was her reply.

"Talk to you soon, mon chérie," I replied.

"It's ma chérie, Shime!" She said and hung up.

After the call ended, I rushed to take a shower. I was already running a bit late and needed to get ready for the afternoon sales.

Surprisingly, after I returned from shopping for my snack shop, Mom and Dad were waiting for me in the kitchen, aprons on, and ready to help me.

We had a blast working together and teaching Dad how not to burn the wings and the salchipulpos. We had to eat a couple of burnt batches, but he got the hang of it. Both Clara and Marcos got constant updates of my parents' progress.

I was exhausted at the end of the day. But I still remembered to send the video to Marcos with the instructions for the week. His reply came immediately: "Clara seems to be enjoying this video as much as I am. I love it. Tomorrow you'll get my first edging vid. Clara is welcome to see them too."

Clara also received the video; it's the least I could do, since her face was in it. I obviously didn't wait for an answer. I fell right asleep and dreamt of saunas, bathtubs, and wiggly toes covered in semen.

The next morning I woke up with my alarm. I felt well rested and couldn't really remember my dreams, but I knew what they were about.

On my phone a message from Clara awaited me: "Shime! That is an incroyable way of waking up. I can't believe my face as you blew on Marc! Let me know what Marcos said."

I sent her the message that Marcos sent, and she replied. "Maybe he'll send it before our wine call. Today I'll be in the bathtub; I'm a little sore, so I'll just watch," she wrote. Her covert confession of her masturbation felt cozy, like we had an unspoken truth we both enjoyed knowing but not acknowledging.

"And how is Onyx?" I asked.

"Onyx?" she replied.

"Yes, your gorgeous black boyfriend, is he sore too?" I asked.

"LOL! No, he wants more; he's infatigable!" She replied. Shortly after, I received a picture of her planting a kiss on Onyx.

I went about my day, sharing jokes and, overall, having some fun with her. She knew about how my mom tried changing my recipe for croissants, and we got into a bit of an argument over it. She knew how I almost crashed delivering pastries because it was raining. I even told her about my anxiety about not having received Marcos' video yet.

By the time we had our wine call, we had been talking nonstop for hours.

I decided that, for this wine call, I would actually have a glass of wine. I still had half a bottle left, and I poured myself a Clara-sized glass.

This time she called me without warning; I was ready, lying naked in bed waiting for her with my glass filled to the brim.

I received her like that, and her excitement just filled my room, even from thousands of kilometers away.

"SHIME! You're so ready today! I love it; let me go get my wine. I wasn't as ready as you. I saw her stand up and get out of the bathtub. She half dried herself and left the room. It took her a while to come back; once she did, she had her glass and bottle in hand and jumped into the bathtub.

"Alright, Shime, I'm as ready as you are," she said while she filled her glass.

This time we chatted about anything and everything. I told her about my family, the crazy parties, and the dia de muertos traditions. She told me about her annoying big brother and how her parents basically support anything she wants to do.

It became our routine. I worked, we shared an almost always naked call, and we talked some more. Whenever we had any new video from Marcos, we would watch it together and masturbate; but we never fully acknowledged it.

A week passed, and I received a message from Marcos shortly after waking up: "I'm ready for you. What should I use for the tribute?"

I immediately forwarded the message to Clara, and she replied with a picture of her bare feet, blue nail polish glowing. I took the same picture of my feet and then stitched them together and sent it to both of them.

Not one minute later, the reply from Clara came. "Shime! I thought you would crop out mes nichons!" She replied. I hadn't noticed that her tits were in the picture.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry I didn't notice!" I replied, but it was too late; the image had been sent.

As I was typing that message, I got another notification from Marcos: "Oh, my god, that is incredible; I'll love every second of that tribute."

Clara didn't reply, and her silence made my stomach turn at the unconscious betrayal I committed against my friend. I stared at the black screen of my phone for the longest time until I convinced myself that I wasn't going to receive anything from her.

Coming down the stairs, the smell of freshly brewed coffee welcomed me, and my mom chirped like a little bird. "Good morning, sunshine! I started the croissants for you," she said as she kneaded; her bright energy rubbed me the wrong way, but I hid my bad mood. I could see she had my recipe book open and was following the instructions to a tee.

We worked together as we had for the past week. We made small talk, but I was absentminded, thinking of how I could make things right with Clara.

"Are you alright, honey? You're a little distracted today," Mom said after I made a mess of flour on the floor for the second time.

"Yeah, I… I think I hurt Clara's feelings. I don't know what to do about it," I said. At this point, Mom knew I had been getting closer to Clara, but without the sexual implications.

"Ok, sounds kind of serious. Can I get some more details?" She asked.

I couldn't tell her what it was about, so I stayed silent, trying to come up with a half truth or blatant lie that would get me out of the conversation.

"I get it; it's private. Look, I don't know much about your relationship with Clara, but I know that you both care for each other very much. I would say don't overthink it. If you messed up, accept it, embrace it, own it, and say a sincere apology. If the friendship is real, she'll come around. If not, then you have some very awkward few months coming for you," she said. Her words made my stomach unclench.

Right before the wine call, I received a message from Marcos. It was the video we were expecting.

I still hadn't received a message from Clara, not even a reply to any of my silly jokes or any question I made throughout the morning.

"Mon chérie, are we having our wine call? I just received our tribute!" I texted her.

Instead of replying, she called me straight away. I wasn't even ready, but I picked up anyway.

This time her camera was off.

"Xime, today I'm not in the mood; enjoy the tribute. We'll talk later," she said and hung up. My heart skipped a beat with her serious tone and my name pronounced like that.

I knew I had screwed up, and probably trying to sweep it under the rug only made things worse. So I started writing a long text for her.

"Ma chérie, you have no idea how much I regret sending that picture without your consent. I was so focused on getting it sent that I didn't stop to consider what it would mean to you. I know I can be a selfish bastard, and I'm trying really hard not to be one, but sometimes my inner bastard comes out. I hope you can forgive my mistake and we can go back to being the friends we were, but if you can't, just know that I understand you. Ta désolée, Shime."

I rewrote the message a couple of times until I felt confident that it reflected my actual feelings. My finger hovered over the send button for a while; my brain was running a thousand miles an hour trying to think if I would make things worse with it.

My eyes closed and I hit send. She saw it immediately.

Three dots appeared on the screen and went away. Then again. Once more, for a long while this time. And then nothing. I stared at the message until the screen went black and I realized she would not reply.

Instead of waiting for a message that would not come, I decided to text Marcos: "Hey, thank you for the tribute; this week has been extremely fun. I'm sorry, but we're not going to see the video just yet; something happened. I hope you understand."

"Don't worry, we're in no rush. Is everything ok?" He asked.

"Can we talk?" I replied.

I immediately got a call from him.

His first words were "Are you ok, Xime?" and I broke down crying.

I sobbed for a couple of minutes, and he just stayed silent. No words, no asking me to quiet down or stop crying. He let me unload onto him.

When I was able to speak again, I told him everything. And I mean everything. The masturbation, the flirting, the nudity. All of it.

He was mostly quiet as I unpacked it all for him. When I was done, I felt as if a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

"You really care for her, don't you? He asked.

"Yeah, I do," I replied without hesitation.

"Would you say you're in love?"

"NO! No, I mean, that wouldn't be wrong or anything, but I think this is different. There is this deep level of trust between us, and I broke it. I wouldn't call it love; I'd say it is a form of complicit friendship," I said. I had never even thought of that possibility.

"You'd be surprised how many marriages end because they don't have what you just described," he said. "So, you said your apology; it was sincere and direct. That's all you can do for now. Give her room to breathe. I'm sure she'll forgive you."

"Was that the reason you and Mia's mom broke up?" I asked. They had been divorced since I was a child, so I never knew the reason they split up.

"Probably, she broke my trust in a much worse way than what happened between you and Clara. But let's not go there, not today," he replied.

"So, did you like the video of me kissing Marc?" I asked.

"Kid, don't get me started; I'm on my lunch break and have no time to do what I want to do whenever I think of that video. Just know that I woke up today with the worst blue balls of my life, and the release was massive, you'll see," he said.

"Yeah, of course, and, uhm, did you like the tribute pic?" I asked.

"Can I be honest?"

"Always," I replied.

"Clara looks gorgeous, and her tiny feet are cute. But you're my perfect woman," he said.

"And her tits?" I asked, trying to dig deeper into his tastes.

"Cute, but too small. I would choose your big, soft tits any day," he replied.

"I thought you couldn't talk about things like that right now," I said.

"I can't, but you're just too much of a tease," he said.

"OK, I'll let you go now; my big tits are not going to wash themselves. I need to lather them and squeeze them thoroughly. OK, bye!" I said and ended the call without letting him reply.

My afternoon blurred together. I showered, went shopping, then prepared for my evening shift on autopilot. As orders started pouring in, my dad noticed my poor mood and tried cheering me up.

"Sales are going great; I think it's my touch that's making the customers keep returning," he said.

"Not many people like their wings burnt, honey," Mom replied.

A fake smile formed on my lips as I looked at them.

"Still no news from Clara?" Mom asked.

I just shook my head; I felt like I would burst into tears if I tried talking.

"I would say don't worry too much about it, kid. I'm sure she'll come around. And if she doesn't, we'll figure something out about the exchange, but we can still make it happen," Dad said. Mom had obviously told him everything.

A couple of tears slithered down my face as I kept working on the fryer. Having their support meant the world, but the one person I wanted to hear from had been ghosting me the whole day.

Later that night, just as I was about to go to bed, I sent her one message. "I missed you today, mon chérie. I hope we can go back to being us," and cried myself to sleep.