The beauty slipped away to go to the bathroom and freshen up, she assured him. Younes stood up, and I saw him change before my eyes, almost instantly. Barely out of this woman's embrace, he was no longer the same. He no longer had that youthful ease, that casual naturalness that characterized him so much. He no longer gave himself over with the lightness of before. No, his body now belonged to him in a more conscious, more assertive way. When he turned towards me, it was not with the mischievous and eager expression that I knew him for. He looked at me with a confident calm, a sort of quiet certainty that destabilized me for the moment. No more hesitation, no more waiting. There was no longer that tiny tacit submission, that invisible thread that connected him to me in a balance that I believed to be immutable. He sat down on a plastic armchair next to me, his legs spread without the slightest embarrassment, his body shamelessly exposed to the sun, but also without that spontaneity of yesteryear. He was naked, of course, but it was no longer the nudity of a carefree boy who strolled without a second thought among these free and relaxed bodies. It was that of a man who now knew what he represented, what he had the right to impose. "Fuck! That was crazy! What a bitch!" I nodded without answering, but smiling at him as tenderly as possible. He wasn't expecting a reaction from me. Before, he would have sought my gaze, my approval. He would have wanted me to tell him what I thought, to guide him a little longer. But this time, he didn't need me to confirm what he already knew intuitively. He stretched his arms over the backrest and inhaled deeply the warm late-afternoon air, his handsome, youthful torso rising slowly, his body relaxed but in control of itself. It was a minor detail, but I could see it, the change. He no longer had the same relationship with his own body. He no longer offered it up to others like a playful young animal. He imposed it and impressed me somewhat... "I understand better now," he added after a moment. He hadn't specified what. He didn't need to. His tone said it all: "I understand better what it is to be a man." He wasn't moving, and yet he filled the space differently. He seemed taller, more solid, as if that simple passage between a female's thighs had been enough to erase everything in him that still belonged to adolescence, or even childhood. He displayed that manly calm, that serenity typical of self-confident men, those who now know they can take,possess and exist fully in their virility.But it was in his gaze that the shift was most clear. He was still staring at me, but there was no longer that glimmer of implicit admiration, that sweet submission that I had loved so much in him. He no longer sought an answer in my eyes. He looked at himself through me, but without really seeing me. And I, facing him, still naked like him where the skin had never been a veil between us, I realized that something had broken, or at least transformed. He was still there, still attached to me, but differently. - Do you think I really made her come? She seemed to really like it, didn't she? You know better than I do! I couldn't help but burst out laughing, a frank, sincere laugh. He persisted in staring at me with that impatient, almost childish glint, yet already tinged with that newfound confidence that troubled me so much. - Ah, Younès! You are priceless! Listen, I think everything leads me to believe it. And then, you'll see... When she comes back, later, she'll ask for more! I think she really liked your performance... and your remarkable tool. As I did so, I ran a caressing hand over his magnificent cock, satisfied, but the circumcised glans still reddened with pleasure, resting between his thighs, his testicles buried beneath. He sat up abruptly, as if struck by a sudden revelation. His face lit up with a triumphant, almost incredulous smile. "Fuck, I'm not a virgin anymore! Not a virgin anymore! And long before my brother! " I raised an eyebrow, amused by his euphoria. "Oh, you know, that's the lot of a lot of young men... " "Are you crazy? Not here in Morocco! Not before you're married! Don't you realize, it's not the same here." You have to be older, have a job, all that... Not everyone is lucky enough to find a widow like my brother! He burst into a joyful, nervous laugh, as if he still had trouble believing what had just happened to him. He repeated these words like a mantra, as if trying to fully absorb them: "Not a virgin anymore! Fuck, I'm a man! Do you realize?" And as he said this, he placed his hand on my thigh, a natural, light, almost tender gesture. Yet this simple contact made a shiver run through my skin. A shiver I didn't want to analyze. Then he looked at me, more serious, almost moved. "And you know what? I'm even happier that it's still thanks to you." He had said this with disarming sincerity, straightforward, like a simple, raw truth. And I, facing him, found myself feeling a strange mixture of pride, nostalgia, and a more diffuse unease than I dared to name. Younes was no longer a child. He felt it. And so did I.Then the mischievous eye:"Do you think she'll ask for the service again?" I replied conspiratorially, "I know she will. You know, for a woman, it's not the same; they can last much longer than us." Just then, the living room door leading to the terrace opened. She advanced towards us, slowly, each step measured, a fluid undulation in her hips, a perfect balance between naturalness and provocation. Her generous curves, still damp, caught the dim light around the pool, making her skin glow with an almost unreal radiance. She paused for a moment, savoring the effect. Her gaze skimmed over our naked bodies, an amused glint in her ...

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