I Confessed What Happened That Night in the Empty Park

The night was warm, one of those nights when the July air hangs still among the trees and smells of wet earth and jasmine. Renata walked alone through the park on Quintana Avenue, her heels tapping out a dry rhythm on the cracked pavement. She had no destination. For months she had been going out at those hours without aim, when the house seemed to collapse in on her and the silence of her empty bed weighed more than exhaustion.

At forty-seven, she knew herself well. She knew what she wanted, and she knew she almost never got it. She had learned to call it many things—anxiety, insomnia, habit—but the truth was simpler and more uncomfortable: she was hungry for cock, for a good one, for one that would make her come for real, and no man had ever fully satisfied that hunger.

Most of the streetlamps were burned out. The dimness gave the park the air of a forbidden place, and she liked that. She walked slowly, feeling the fabric of her dress brush her thighs with every step, aware of her own body in a way she shared with no one. She wasn’t wearing a bra under the dress, and her nipples, already hard from the air and from her own impatience, pressed against the thin fabric.

Then she saw him.

He was sitting on a bench beneath a huge oak, hunched over with his elbows on his knees. Young. Very young. Twenty-three, maybe twenty-four. His dark hair was tousled, and he stared at the ground as if waiting for an answer that never came. His T-shirt clung to his broad shoulders, and there was something in his stillness, in that mix of strength and helplessness, that made her stop.

You shouldn’t, she thought. And kept walking toward him anyway.

—It’s late to be so alone —she said, stopping a step away from the bench.

The boy looked up, startled. He had light eyes and an expression of surprise that quickly turned to curiosity. He looked her over from head to toe, barely bothering to hide it, and Renata felt that scrutiny like a caress between her legs.

—I couldn’t sleep —he answered. His voice was deep, with a lingering trace of shyness—. And you?

—Don’t call me usted —she said, and sat down beside him without waiting for permission—. My name’s Renata.

—Damián.

They spoke little. He told her he’d had an argument with someone, that he needed some air, fragments she barely listened to. She was too busy staring at his hands, large and nervous, imagining those thick fingers opening her cunt. When Damián fell silent, she laid her palm on his knee, unhurried, gauging his reaction, and slid it up his thigh until she barely brushed the bulge already beginning to show in his pants.

He didn’t pull away. On the contrary: he opened his legs a little more, almost without noticing.

—It’s been a long time since anyone looked at me the way you’re looking at me —Renata said softly—. And it’s been a long time since I sucked a cock the way God intended.

He swallowed. She saw the movement in his throat, the pulse beating fast under his skin. She leaned in and spoke into his ear, letting her breath brush his neck.

—Come on.

***

She took him by the hand and led him behind the oak, where the foliage hung thick and hid them from the few streetlamps still working. The bark of the tree was rough and cold. Renata pushed him against the trunk with a firmness that made his eyes widen, and before he could say anything, she kissed him.

It was a long, deep kiss, her tongue going all the way into his mouth, with none of the hesitation of the earlier conversation. Damián responded awkwardly at first, then with an urgency that turned her on. His hands didn’t know where to settle: they brushed her waist, climbed to her back, dropped again. Renata guided them to her hips and pressed herself against him, feeling the hard, thick bulge already pushing against the fabric of his pants, seeking the space between her thighs.

—Easy —she murmured against his mouth—. We’ve got all night for you to fuck me.

But she herself wasn’t calm. She unbuckled his belt with quick fingers, never stopping kissing his neck, his jaw, his ear. When she pulled his pants down with his boxer briefs and his cock sprang free against his stomach, hard, thick, hot, the tip already shining with fluid, Renata let out a moan of pure appetite. It was beautiful: straight, veined, bigger than she had imagined. She wrapped her hand around it and squeezed from base to tip, drawing a choked sound and a shudder from Damián.

—Jesus —he gasped, dropping his head back against the trunk.

Renata smiled in the dark. She moved her hand slowly, twisting at the tip with each stroke, spreading the sticky fluid over the whole head, feeling the cock get even harder under her touch. She loved that part almost as much as the rest: the moment a man surrendered, when he stopped thinking and gave himself over to whatever she decided to do to him.

She knelt on the damp grass. Dirt stained her knees and she didn’t care. She stuck out her tongue and licked from his balls to the tip first, slow, with her whole tongue flat, looking up at him from below. Damián groaned loudly. Then she took his cock all the way into her mouth, so deep she felt it press against her throat, and stayed there for a moment, fighting off the gag reflex, savoring the hard weight filling her mouth. When she pulled back out, a thread of saliva hung from her lip.

—Look at how I’ve got it —she murmured—. It’s a beautiful cock. I’m going to suck it until your legs shake.

She took it into her mouth again and started to suck for real: moving her head up and down in a deep rhythm, making room with her tongue, tightening her lips on the way up. One hand gripped the base and worked the shaft in time with her mouth; the other caressed his balls, heavy and taut, ready to spill. Damián tangled his fingers in her hair, too afraid to push, trembling from the effort of holding back. She listened to him pant her name, broken and uneven, and sped up, pulling off only to lick the tip with the point of her tongue before swallowing him whole again.

—I’m not going to last —he warned, his voice tight, his hips beginning to move on their own.

Renata pulled away just in time, lips shining and chin wet, and got to her feet. She loved bringing him to the edge and leaving him there, suspended, his cock throbbing in the open air, swollen and ready.

—Not yet —she said—. First you’re going to fill my pussy.

***

She hiked her dress up to her waist. Underneath she wore nothing but a thin lace thong she pushed aside with one finger. She took Damián’s hand and guided it between her legs, to where desire had left her slick for a while now. His fingers sank in without effort, squelching, and she closed her eyes.

—Feel how soaked you’ve made me —she whispered—. It’s all for you. Put it in me, come on, I can’t wait anymore.

He touched her with a clumsiness that quickly turned to instinct. He slid two fingers in deep and used his thumb to find her clit; Renata gasped and opened wider, braced her back against the tree and bit his shoulder. The bark scraped her shoulder blades through the fabric, a slight pain that only sharpened everything else.

—Now —she said—. Pick me up and shove it in to the balls.

Damián held her by the thighs and lifted her against the trunk with an ease that surprised her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, threw her arms around his neck, and when he placed the tip at her entrance and pushed upward, both of them held their breath at the same time.

He entered her in one thrust, deep, filling her completely. Renata buried her face in his neck to smother the long moan that rose from her chest. She felt him hit bottom, tighten her whole belly, open her cunt in a way she hadn’t felt in months. For a moment they stayed still, feeling each other, her heart pounding against his chest. Then Damián started to move, first carefully, then following the rhythm her hips set for him.

—Like that —she told him in his ear—. Fuck me hard. Break me. Don’t stop.

The boy listened. He grabbed her ass with both hands, lifted her a few inches higher, and started pounding into her for real, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in with a slam. Each thrust tore a moan from her, an “ah!” muffled against his shoulder. The wet sound of flesh against flesh mixed with their ragged breathing and the crackle of leaves beneath his feet.

—You’re so tight —Damián growled, almost to himself—. Jesus, what a delicious cunt.

—It’s yours —she panted—. It’s all yours tonight. Put it in me deeper, come on.

The entire park shrank to that corner of shadow and the two bodies crashing against the tree. She dug her nails into his back beneath his T-shirt, clung to him with her legs, drove him inward with her heels, chasing what she knew was about to come. She bit his earlobe, licked his neck, talked dirty into his ear without stopping her motion.

—You’re going to make me come —she told him—. You’re going to make me come on your cock, you hear me? Don’t stop, keep going, keep going, keep going.

It came over her like a shudder that ran all the way down her spine. She tightened around him, feeling her cunt clamp his cock in spasms, biting down on the back of her hand so she wouldn’t scream, her body trembling in waves that took time to leave her. Damián held her through it all, gritting his teeth, and a moment later he emptied himself inside her with a dull growl against her shoulder. She felt it: the hot spurts pouring into her, one after another, his cock pulsing in waves as he finished cumming.

They stayed like that, gasping, held up by the trunk and by her still-trembling legs. When he lowered her, a thread of semen ran down the inside of her thigh. Renata wiped it away with two fingers and brought them to her mouth, staring into his eyes.

***

What any other woman might have taken as an ending was, for Renata, only a pause. She lowered herself to the ground carefully, feeling him slide out of her still hard, and looked at him with a smile he was beginning to learn to fear and desire at the same time.

—Did you think we were done? —she asked—. We’re just getting started, baby.

She took his hand again and led him deeper into the park, to a clearing surrounded by bushes where the grass grew tall and no one could see them. There she lay down on the grass, took off the dress completely, and remained naked in the barely blue light of the dawn that was beginning, her tits falling to either side, her nipples hard, her thighs open and shiny with him and with her. She gestured for him to come closer.

—You’ve got a lot to learn —she said—. And I’ve got all the patience in the world. Come here, get down here. I want you to lick my cunt until you beg me please.

She taught him with words and with her hands. She took his head and lowered it between her thighs, parted her lips with two fingers and put her clit right against his mouth. Damián was an eager student. At first he licked without rhythm, too fast, too soft, and she corrected him without shame.

—Slower. Your whole tongue, flat. There. Now suck me slowly, don’t rush. Put your tongue in me, yes, like that.

He learned quickly. When he found the right rhythm, she tangled her fingers in his hair and started moving his head in the cadence she needed, rubbing her cunt against his mouth without the slightest embarrassment. Damián licked her, sucked her, pushed his tongue into her, nipped at her swollen clit, and between licks he slipped in two fingers, curling them upward to find the spot. His awkwardness turned into something like skill, and then Renata stopped talking and simply felt, with her heels dug into his back and her breasts rising and falling with her breathing.

The second orgasm was slower, deeper, a tide that rose and left her weak on the grass. Her whole belly trembled, her face was squeezed between her thighs, her chin grew wet, and when she finally let him go Damián lifted his head with his mouth shining and a smile he hadn’t had before.

—Good boy —she panted, and gestured—. Come here. Lie down.

She spent a moment looking at the treetops outlined against the sky, which was only just beginning to pale at the edge of the horizon. Then she climbed on top of him. She grabbed his cock, still hard, still shining with saliva and her, set it at her entrance and lowered herself slowly, sinking it in centimeter by centimeter until she sat all the way down on it.

She rode him slowly, setting the pace herself, Damián’s hands on her hips guiding her without controlling her. She moved her hips in slow circles, clenching around him with each drop, looking him in the eyes, watching pleasure undo the expression on his face. She liked that: having control, being the one who decided when to speed up and when to stop at the edge. She brought her hands to her tits, squeezed them, pinched her nipples for him.

—Look at me —she told him, and he looked, lost—. Watch how I fuck myself on it. Remember this night. Remember this whore’s face.

She sped up. She started going up and down harder, faster, her palms braced on his chest, feeling his cock sink all the way in again and again. Damián dug his fingers into her hips and started thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway, flesh slamming against flesh in a rhythm that turned frantic. She touched her clit with two fingers while she rode him, never taking her eyes off him.

—I’m going to come again —she moaned—. Come inside. Fill me again. Come on.

They both ran out of breath at the same time. Damián clung to her and let go one last time with a broken moan, spilling everything he had left inside her, and she followed soon after with a tremor that bent her over his chest, her cunt gripping him in waves until the last drop.

***

The sky was already a pinkish gray when Renata dressed. Damián was still lying in the grass, exhausted, his soft, shining cock fallen against his thigh, staring at her as if he still couldn’t believe what had happened. She crouched down and gave him one last kiss, soft this time, almost tender.

—Don’t look for me —she said—. It wouldn’t do any good.

She walked back home with her heels in her hand and grass stuck to her skin. She could still feel the semen trickling between her thighs with each step, warm, and her cunt throbbing with that well-fucked feeling. Her body ached in a way that was almost pleasant. She knew that in a few days the thirst would return, as it always did, and that another night she would go out walking without aim again.

But for that morning, while the sun began to warm the empty streets, Renata allowed herself to smile. She regretted nothing. She never had. And that, perhaps, was the only confession that truly mattered to her.