My Best Friend Made Me Finish at the Public Pool
We queued for the slides all morning, but it was in the water, with her hand sliding over my waist, that I understood what she really wanted from me.
We queued for the slides all morning, but it was in the water, with her hand sliding over my waist, that I understood what she really wanted from me.
I'd always wanted her in silence, listening to her from my room. That night, with two drinks too many, I stopped pretending it was only curiosity.
She thought I was still asleep while she touched herself on the floor beside my bed. I didn’t move. I didn’t want her to stop, not yet.
The age gap should have been a problem, not an invitation. But when she kicked off her shoes and looked at me from the sofa, I knew I’d obey every order.
All it took was for her to tilt her head toward the back door for me to set my glass on the bar and follow her without thinking twice.
When she sat at the bar and smiled at me, I thought we’d only share a drink. I never imagined that a few hours later I’d be naked, waiting for her next order.
I was only serving drinks. She was looking at me from the other side of the bar as if she already knew, before I did, how that night would end.
When she took off her blouse in front of the open window, I knew she wasn’t going to stop even if half the neighborhood was watching. And I didn’t want her to stop either.
She pushed me against the wall with a slow kiss, lowered her voice to a whisper, and told me I’d be a good girl. I never knew her name, but I obeyed her.
I didn’t take my eyes off her when she came to the bed. I knew what was about to happen shouldn’t happen, and still I let her sit on my lap.
When she poured the fourth shot and held my gaze a second too long, I knew that night we were going to cross the line we’d been avoiding for months.
In the drinks line she asked to smell my perfume. When she leaned in against my neck, I understood that night’s concert would end somewhere other than my home.
I was bored, stressed, and horny when a lavender-haired girl appeared in my private room and asked whether I wanted more than simple game chat.
I arrived in the city knowing no one, and that very afternoon a stranger offered me a slice of pizza. Neither of us knew where that gesture would lead.
She came out of the bathroom in lingerie, posed in front of me, and asked how hot she was on a scale of one to ten. I already knew where that night would end.
I arrived thinking we’d drink beer and celebrate his promotion. Carla opened the door in a tiny skirt and a sheer blouse. Damián still hadn’t arrived.
I thought the party was over when I closed the door. But she was still barefoot on my sofa, glass on her knee and another box in her hands.
I was twenty-two, with a curiosity kept under lock and key and the address of a hotel where no one would ask awkward questions. Antonella was waiting with a book in her hand.
On the curve where the trees formed a tunnel of light, I reached out and laid my hand over hers. No words were needed to say yes, that I wanted to try.
I went out to clear my head one Saturday afternoon. When I looked up from my coffee, she was already sitting across from me, smiling as if she’d known me all her life.