I Knew I Shouldn’t Reply to That Message

Valeria was twenty-two years old and had a life she couldn’t complain about. She studied law, got good grades, and had been with Marcos for almost three years: a considerate, affectionate guy who made her breakfast on Sundays and never raised his voice. She loved him. That was undeniable. But there was something Marcos couldn’t give her, something she kept in the darkest corner of herself: she needed to feel desired to the point of losing control. She needed to be hunted with hunger, to have her hair grabbed, to have her legs pried open without being asked, to be fucked until she was left voiceless. Not with tenderness. With real animal appetite.

That was why, when her friends called her to go out on a Friday night, Valeria opened the wardrobe with a decision already made.

She looked at herself in the bedroom mirror: short black dress with a plunging neckline, heeled sandals, chestnut hair pulled back into a low ponytail that left her nape exposed. She painted her lips matte red, took one last look, and stepped out into the hallway. Marcos was leaning in the living room doorway, TV remote in hand.

“You look beautiful,” he said, in that soft voice of his that sometimes drove her crazy. “Take care, yeah?”

Valeria kissed him on the cheek and went down the stairs without looking back.

***

The nightclub was packed when she arrived. Loud music, pressed bodies, the smell of alcohol mixed with cheap perfume. Her friends had already ordered the first round. They toasted, laughed, and Valeria started dancing with that energy that only showed up when she felt watched.

And she was watched.

The eyes of several guys found her in less than ten minutes. She didn’t respond, but she registered everything: the guy at the back who wouldn’t stop looking at her waist, the one who had tried to get closer and had settled for watching from the bar for a good while now. That familiar heat climbed through her chest, gathered between her legs, and wet her panties without permission. That small, addictive rush of knowing she was wanted. It was her most honest drug, the only one she had never pretended not to need.

She danced for almost two hours straight, alone and with her friends, letting the music carry her away with her eyes half-closed. At one point, a guy came up behind her and put a hand on her hip. Valeria felt the press of a hard cock against her ass, barely separated by the fabric of the dress. She let him dance with her for a whole song, feeling him grind against her, feeling the pressure build, hearing him breathe heavily against the back of her neck. Then she turned with a polite, cold smile and pushed him away without saying a word. He got the message.

When she found herself alone on the dance floor again, her body was burning with that mix of excitement and frustration she knew all too well. Her cunt was soaked inside her panties and her nipples were hard beneath the dress. Marcos didn’t do that to her. Marcos gave her something else: calm, security, affection. Good things. Things that didn’t leave her panties wet at eleven at night on a dance floor.

She had been in the club for almost two and a half hours when her phone vibrated in her bag.

It was a number she hadn’t deleted, though she should have.

Diego: I saw you in Claudia’s story. That dress… I’ve been thinking about things I shouldn’t be thinking about for half an hour.

Valeria stepped away from her friends and found a quieter corner by a column. She reread the message. Her heart skipped a beat. So did her cunt.

Diego had been her ex two years ago. Four intense months, physically the most brutal and honest of her life. They hadn’t ended badly; they had simply ended. But what had happened between them in bed wasn’t the kind of thing you forgot easily. Diego had fucked her like nobody else: against the bathroom wall, face-down with her face smashed into the pillow, on her knees on the floor with her mouth open waiting for his cum. He knew how to read her in a way no one else had ever matched, before or since.

She typed and deleted three times before deciding.

Valeria: Diego, I have a boyfriend. Don’t do this.

The reply came within seconds.

Diego: I know. What does that have to do with what I’m telling you?

Diego: Does Marcos make you forget everything, or do you have to help yourself with your hand afterward to get there?

Valeria clenched her teeth. She could feel her pulse in her ears and another pulse, lower, between her thighs. It was a dirty, direct, unabashed question, and the problem was that she knew the answer. Diego knew it too. That was why he was asking.

Valeria: Stop. I’m fine with him.

Diego: I’m sure you are. But “fine” isn’t the same as what we had. I remember how you came to my place already wet before you even got in. I remember what you asked me for with your mouth full. Does Marcos know that about you? Does he know how you like it taken?

Valeria closed her eyes for a second. The noise of the club turned dull, as if the world had stepped away a few paces.

Diego: Come. Now. I’m waiting with a hard cock thinking about you.

She put the phone away and went back to her friends. She danced for another twenty minutes with a smile she didn’t feel. She ordered another drink she barely tasted. She tried to think about Marcos, about their plans for the weekend, about the call she still owed her mother. But the phone felt heavy in her bag, and her panties were clinging to her cunt from how soaked they were.

At one-thirty, she leaned toward her friend Natalia and said she wasn’t feeling well, that she was going to get a taxi. Natalia looked at her with a “are you sure?” expression that Valeria ignored with a quick hug. She stepped outside, breathed in the cold night air, and opened her phone.

Valeria: Send me the address.

***

The taxi took ten minutes. Valeria spent that time staring out the window without seeing anything, hands clasped over her lap and her head full of noise. She knew exactly what she was doing. There was no confusion, not enough alcohol to take that clarity away. It was a conscious decision. Which made it worse.

The phone vibrated. A message from Marcos.

Marcos: Sweetheart, is everything okay? It’s late and I haven’t heard from you. I love you ❤

She read it. Didn’t answer. Put the phone face down on her thigh again.

The taxi stopped in front of a gray building on a quiet street. Diego was waiting in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. He didn’t hug her. He just looked her up and down with that calm that had always been more provocative than any urgency. He looked at her the way you look at someone you’ve already seen naked, on her knees, moaning with her mouth full.

“I knew you’d come,” he said.

“Shut up,” Valeria replied.

They went upstairs in silence. In the elevator, Diego didn’t touch her. He just leaned against the metal wall and watched her as if he had all the time in the world. That was what had always driven her crazy about him: that patience that was really not patience but control. The certainty that he could wait because he knew exactly what was going to happen, how she was going to end up, in what position, screaming what.

When he closed the apartment door, she had already put her bag on the nearest chair.

“Why did you come?” he asked, though his voice made it clear he already knew.

“Don’t start,” Valeria said.

Diego came up slowly. He put a hand on her jaw, forcing her to look directly at him.

“Say it.”

It took her three seconds.

“I needed you to fuck me.”

***

There were no more words after that. Diego shoved her against the hallway wall and kissed her with an intensity Marcos had never reached, not from lack of love but because there were things love couldn’t replicate. He shoved his tongue deep into her mouth while grabbing her jaw with one hand and hiking up her skirt with the other. Valeria felt her knees tremble when his fingers brushed the inside of her thigh and kept going up until they found the soaked fabric of her panties.

“You’re dripping,” Diego said against her lips, with that half-smile of his. “How long have you been like this?”

“Shut up. Shut up and do it.”

He yanked her panties aside without care and pushed two fingers into her to the knuckles. Valeria threw her head back and banged it against the wall. A groan escaped her without permission, rough, from deep down. Diego fucked her with his fingers right there, in the hallway, his thumb circling her clit with precise pressure while he bit her neck just below the ear.

“That’s it. That’s how you remembered it, right?” he whispered. “Tell me you remembered.”

“Yes. Fuck. Yes.”

“Does Marcos touch you like this?”

“No.”

“Does he fuck you like this?”

“No. No. Shut up. Keep going.”

He dug his fingers into the back of her neck and let her go where that took her. Diego kept her against the wall until she came for the first time, clenching her thighs around his hand, biting his shoulder to keep from screaming. She came fast, brutally, with her legs trembling so hard that if he hadn’t held her up she would have fallen to the floor.

“That was the entrance one,” Diego said, pulling his fingers out and taking them to his mouth without breaking eye contact. “Now we’re going to do the rest.”

He pushed her toward the bedroom without stopping the kissing, and Valeria went with him without resistance, knowing full well she could have stopped at any moment and wasn’t going to. He lowered the zipper of her dress with one hand, slowly, as if he weren’t in a hurry. The dress fell to the floor. She stood in the middle of the room with one side of her panties torn open, no bra, nipples hard, and the insides of her thighs shining with wetness.

“On your knees,” Diego said.

Valeria obeyed without thinking. She knelt on the carpet while he unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down. His cock came out hard, thick, exactly as she remembered: that slight upward curve, that prominent vein underneath, the swollen, shining head. He took her by the hair with one hand and pressed his cock to her lips with the other.

“Open.”

She opened her mouth and he shoved his cock all the way down her throat on the first thrust. Valeria choked, tears filled her eyes, and a thread of saliva slipped from the corner of her mouth. Diego didn’t pull away. He held her there for one more second, looking down at her with that unbearable calm, before letting her breathe.

“Good girl.”

And he shoved it into her again. And again. And again. He fucked her mouth without hurry but without mercy, holding her hair with both hands, setting the pace, forcing her to swallow. Valeria dug her nails into his thighs, gave in, moaned with his cock in her mouth, and felt her cunt clench in the emptiness every time his head touched her uvula.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

She lifted her eyes, mouth open and his cock inside, and Diego let out a guttural groan at the sight of her like that, mascara running, red lips stretched around him.

“Fuck, I missed that face.”

He pulled his cock out of her mouth before he came. He hauled her up off the floor by the hair and threw her onto the bed on her back. He ripped her torn panties off completely and pried her legs open with his knees, without ceremony. He bent down and buried his face in her cunt in one movement.

Valeria screamed.

Diego ate pussy like it was personal. He knew exactly where every nerve ending in her body was, how long to lick flat, when to seal his lips around her clit and suck it, when to push his tongue inside. He dragged his rough beard across the insides of her thighs, bit her labia, slid two fingers into her and curled them upward while he kept sucking up top. Valeria grabbed his head with both hands and started fucking his face shamelessly, grinding against his mouth, searching for the angle, moaning louder and louder.

“There. There. Don’t stop. There, fuck, there…”

She came for the second time in his mouth, pushing his head down, closing her thighs around his face. Diego didn’t let her go until the trembling had completely left her body. When he lifted his head, his beard was glossy to the chin and there was a dark smile on his mouth.

“You still taste the same.”

He climbed over her. He grabbed both her wrists and held them above her head with one hand. With the other he guided his cock and ran it over her lips, up and down the slit of her cunt, not putting it in, soaking the tip.

“Ask me for it.”

“Diego…”

“Ask me properly.”

“Put it in me. Please. Put it in me.”

He shoved into her in a single thrust, all the way to the hilt, and Valeria arched her back with a long moan. She was so wet he slid in without resistance, but he was thick and reached a place no one else ever had. Diego stayed inside her for a second, motionless, letting her feel how he filled her.

“Do you remember?”

“Yes. Yes. Move. Please.”

And he moved. He started slow, with long, deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back in to the balls. Every hit tore a new moan from her. Valeria’s tits bounced with every thrust, her wrists still pinned, her throat dry from moaning. Diego looked down at her with clenched teeth, controlling the pace, not letting her settle.

“Like that.”

“Harder.”

“Like this?”

“More.”

He let go of her wrists, grabbed one hip, and sped up. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, wet, obscene, mixed with her moans and his grunts. The bed hit the wall. Valeria dug her nails into his back, left red marks from his shoulders down to his ass, bit his neck.

“I’m going to come again. Diego. Diego, I’m going to…”

“Come. Come on my cock. I want to feel it.”

She came for the third time, with spasms that clenched his cock inside her, arched all the way against him, screaming and not caring about the neighbors. Diego stopped for a second, breathing hard, and without giving her time to recover he turned her face-down.

“We’re not done yet.”

He put her on all fours, pushed her head into the pillow and left her ass in the air, then shoved it in from behind again. From that angle it went even deeper. Valeria bit the pillow and let herself be fucked, pushing back every time he thrust. Diego grabbed her ponytail and yanked her head back, forcing her to arch even more.

“Tell me nobody else fucks you like this.”

“Nobody.”

“Say the whole thing.”

“Nobody fucks me like this. Only you. Only you, fuck.”

“Good girl.”

He slid a hand underneath, found her clit, and started rubbing it while he kept fucking her from behind, never slowing down. Valeria felt another orgasm building before the previous one had even finished dropping away. They mixed, stacked on top of each other, and by the fourth she didn’t know whether she was coming or whether she had simply never stopped.

At some point, when they had already been at it a good while, she thought about Marcos. The image lasted as long as a flash: his face when he told her “I love you,” the way he left coffee ready for her in the mornings without asking for anything in return. The guilt was real. Brief and absolutely insufficient to stop what was happening, especially with another man’s cock buried to the hilt and driving her into the mattress.

I’m a mess, she thought. And kept going.

Diego led her from one position to another with that certainty she had never found in anyone else. He put her on top, riding him, his hands squeezing her tits and his mouth sucking her nipples while she rose and fell, impaling herself on his cock until she came again. He put her on her side with one leg lifted and fucked her slowly while he whispered in her ear all the dirty things she had always needed to hear and had never dared ask Marcos for. He asked for specific things, by name, with verbs, without embellishment, and Diego fulfilled them without negotiation. It was intense, prolonged, and at the end of each orgasm there was always another building before the previous one had completely faded.

When at last he felt he couldn’t take any more, he put her back on her back, knelt between her legs, and started jerking himself off against her pussy, rubbing the head of his cock against her swollen clit.

“Where?”

“On my tits,” she said without thinking, voice broken. “Cum on my tits.”

Diego jerked himself the last few seconds while looking down at her, and when he exploded he shot thick ropes of hot semen over her chest, collarbone, neck, and jaw. Valeria closed her eyes, mouth slightly open, feeling his cum slide down her skin, and ran two fingers over one nipple to smear it without thinking, in a gesture she had never done with anyone else.

When Diego finally stopped, Valeria was lying on her back staring at the ceiling, her whole body twice as heavy as normal, skin stained, cunt still throbbing, breathing not quite steady yet.

***

“How long have you been sleeping badly?” he asked from the edge of the bed, studying her with that usual calm.

“Why are you asking?”

“Because you have that face.”

Valeria didn’t answer. She got up, went to the bathroom, wiped the cum from her chest with a towel, and washed between her legs with cold water. She came back to the bedroom and used her foot to hook the dress off the floor. She dressed in silence, with her back to him, without panties because he had torn them.

“I’m leaving.”

Diego didn’t try to stop her. He watched her put on her sandals with the same calm as in the elevator.

“Next time you don’t have to make up an excuse,” he said when she already had a hand on the doorknob. “You can just come.”

Valeria looked at him for a moment from the threshold.

“There won’t be a next time.”

They both knew that was a lie.

***

The taxi home took twice as long, or maybe she just perceived time differently. She looked at her hands in her lap: no trembling now, still on top of her bag. She could feel her cunt swollen, the insides of her thighs sticky, a good ache between her legs that would last until the next morning. She opened her phone and saw three messages from Marcos and one from Natalia asking if she had gotten home safely.

She replied to Natalia with “yes, thanks, I’m home now.” She didn’t open Marcos’s.

When she turned the key in the lock it was almost four in the morning. The hallway light was on. Marcos appeared from the living room with a relieved look and a little sleep in his eyes.

“Thank God. I was about to call you,” he said. He came over and hugged her. “Are you okay? You look awful.”

“Tired,” she replied, letting the hug last just long enough, praying he wouldn’t notice the smell of another man in her hair. “It was a long night. I’m going to shower.”

She went into the bathroom, turned on the hot water, and stood under it for a long while. She soaped herself twice, between her legs especially carefully, erasing any trace of Diego that might have remained. She wasn’t crying. She expected to cry and it didn’t happen. There was only a heavy silence inside her, like after closing a room you know you’ll open again before the week is over.

She dressed in comfortable clothes and went into the bedroom. Marcos was already in bed, drowsy, but when she slipped under the sheets he reached for her with his arm.

“I was worried,” he murmured against her hair.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Did you at least have a good time?”

“Yes,” Valeria said. “It was good.”

They stayed silent. Marcos’s breathing grew slower and deeper until she knew he had fallen asleep. Valeria stared at the ceiling in the dark, completely awake, her body still charged with a tension that wasn’t exactly regret and her cunt still faintly throbbing between her legs.

The phone on the nightstand was face down.

She didn’t turn it over to check whether Diego had written. It wasn’t necessary. She already knew he had. And she already knew, even if she wasn’t willing to admit it yet, that the next time it vibrated like that she would look. That next time she would cross the city again. That next time she would kneel again, and open her mouth again, and ask to be taken again.

That was the worst part of all: not the guilt of that night, but the quiet, terrible certainty that it wasn’t going to be the last. That she had already crossed a line that doesn’t blur away with a shower or with the hug of someone who trusts you. That something in her had decided, and that decision had its own weight, one that would still be there when the sun came up.

Marcos breathed peacefully beside her.

Valeria closed her eyes and waited for sleep to come.