My coworker asked me to take her home

We met again on the building stairs, those of us coming off shift and the stragglers still arriving with that Sunday look on their faces. Everyone who had been on the same shift that afternoon had a couple of days off ahead of us, so we made the usual comments: the long weekend, plans, the beach, the endless nap. When we got to the parking lot, I headed toward my car without barely meeting her eyes.

—Adrián! —she shouted so everyone could hear.

It was clear the universe had conspired that afternoon to test me.

—Do you remember you told me you’d take me home? The oil light came on when I got to the office. Tomorrow I’m coming back with a tow truck to get it —she said loudly and clearly, in that neutral tone bad actors use when they’re improvising live.

I was never much of an actor either, but I faked a believable surprise.

—Oh, yeah. I’d completely forgotten. I don’t know where my head is lately.

We got into my car. I was still a little dazed.

—Find an alley, a vacant lot, a parking area, a hotel, whatever comes to mind. I can’t, and I don’t want to get home like this —she said while fastening her seat belt and unbuttoning her pants.

As soon as we left company property, she slid her hand inside her panties, leaned back against the seat, and closed her eyes. I heard perfectly as two fingers sank into her cunt, with that wet, sticky sound impossible to disguise in the silence of the cabin.

—If you pull up next to a truck, let me know. I don’t want to put on a show —she murmured, her breathing already quickening—. Although, thinking about it, being seen by a trucker while I finger myself wouldn’t be so bad. I’ve been like this all week, Adrián. All. Fucking. Week.

Within minutes we were out of the city. Even though it was the middle of July, Sunday afternoons had dead traffic. She still had her hand tucked under the elastic, fingers moving in a short, stubborn rhythm. I could hear her panting softly, teeth clenched, and every so often she’d pull out her soaked fingers and bring them to her mouth, sucking them like dessert. Inside my jeans, my cock was waking up again, thick, pulling against the seam. I had to stop. I lowered the zipper a couple of notches to ease the pressure against the fabric.

—Take it out —she said without opening her eyes—. I want to see your cock while I touch myself.

I freed it from my underwear and it stood pointed at the roof, hard, pulsing with every beat. She turned her head, bit her lip, and stretched out her left hand to take me by the base. She started jerking me off, her wrist circling in the same tempo she used to rub her clit with the other hand. Driving like that became hell. I could feel her thumb dancing over my glans, smearing the drop that had already appeared, and I had to grip the steering wheel with both hands so I wouldn’t drift out of my lane.

If this island is full of anything, it’s farm roads that lead nowhere, little dirt turnoffs lost between pasture fields. Five minutes later I had the car parked on one of them, at a dead end, in front of a rusted metal fence. I cut the engine. The lights went out on their own. We were lit only by the moon, a murky yellow moon still rising.

We opened the doors and got out almost at the same time. We met on the hood, still warm from the drive. Quick, rough kisses, hands that didn’t know where to begin. I flung my T-shirt to the ground. She unhooked her bra in one motion and her tits dropped heavy, her nipples so hard they seemed to beg to be bitten. And that’s what I did. I bent down and took one whole nipple into my mouth, sucking hard, feeling her back arch. I pinched the other one between two fingers, tugging, twisting, until she let out a rough moan that echoed across the empty lot.

—Don’t tease, Adrián, don’t tease anymore. Put it in me already.

Our pants were already hanging around our ankles, panties and briefs tangled with the denim. Before letting her lean against the hood, I knelt for a second. I opened her legs with both hands and pressed my mouth to her cunt. It was soaked, swollen, her lips spread from the pressure of her own fingers all through the trip. I dragged my tongue all the way through, bottom to top, finishing on her clit with a sucking kiss that made her grab the hood so she wouldn’t fall.

—Son of a bitch —she gasped—. I told you to fuck me, not eat my cunt.

—Shut up and open wider.

I sank two fingers into her while I kept sucking her clit. She swallowed them eagerly, and I felt the walls contract around me. When I felt her trembling too much, I pulled my fingers out, stood up, and turned her around. She braced herself on the hood with both hands and opened her legs a little wider. No more warning was needed.

I entered her with a single drive of my hips. She cried out, but I found no resistance at all. The tension of the whole afternoon, the massages she’d given herself since we left the office, had finished preparing her. Going into her was like arriving at a warm house after hours in the cold, with the fire already lit and the smell of bread on the table. Her cunt clamped down on me so hard that by the third thrust I was already holding back my orgasm with my teeth dug into her shoulder.

—Harder, give it to me hard, don’t treat me like a lady, fuck me like I’m a whore.

I grabbed her hair, pulled her head back, and started really fucking her. Every shove made the hood clatter, a dry slap of skin against skin and her tits against the warm metal. She let herself go, pushing her ass back with each thrust, trying to take me deeper every time. I let go of her hair and brought an open hand down on one ass cheek. A slap. Another. The red mark appeared at once and she let out a long, approving moan.

—Again. Harder.

I kept driving into her hips with all my strength. She had guessed the show would be short, so she helped herself with the tips of her fingers, rubbing her clit while I hammered into her. My restraint, indeed, couldn’t last another minute. I clung to her hips so I wouldn’t lose my balance and, with one last thrust, I felt myself unravel inside her, stream after stream of semen emptying deep into her cunt while I kept thrusting by inertia.

She held my weight for an instant while her fingers kept working. I felt her tighten around me, tense, hot, as close to the edge as I had been. Her arousal had been building all week, and it took no effort at all to bring her off. Her cunt squeezed my cock in spasms, milking me of the last drop, and when I finally pulled out of her, a thick white thread ran down the inside of her thigh to her knee. Our bodies separated so we wouldn’t fall, panting, breathing in that summer-field smell, dry grass and the damp earth of night irrigation, mixed with the heavy scent of sex clinging to our skin.

I realized that since we’d turned off onto that road, we had barely exchanged two words that weren’t obscene.

***

It had been a dirty, quick encounter, with no time to enjoy it. But necessary. Our bodies had spent a week building up charge, and that had to be discharged somehow. And so it was.

She pulled some wet wipes from her bag and handed me one. She wiped the semen from her thigh in two slow passes, never taking her eyes off me. We still weren’t talking. We dressed clumsily, groping for our briefs and panties on the floor, and got back into the car.

She grabbed her phone.

—Yes, honey, don’t worry. My afternoon got complicated. Yes, I’m on my way out now. I’ll be there in a bit.

She had just hung up on her daughter. I was already heading onto the main road, toward the entrance to her neighborhood.

—Tomorrow I’ll order a taxi to go pick up the car at the office. Don’t worry about that. How long until you’ve got the apartment ready?

More than a conversation, it was a monologue. The week had been madness, with desire skinned raw every time we crossed in the hallway or pretended to check something at the copier. I dropped her at her front door. She got out of the car like a shot. I lingered a few seconds looking at that ass I liked so much under her light skirt, and set off for my friend’s place, where I’d been sleeping since the apartment broke down.

When I arrived, he was already in bed. Without dinner, I got in the shower and gave myself an anthology-worthy wank, the hot water running down my back, my cock in my fist and her image bent over the hood in my head. I came against the tiles with a muffled grunt. Straight from the shower to bed. I fell asleep at once, with my hair still wet and the pillow cold against my face.

***

The phone woke me the next morning. It was the contractor. In two days I’d be able to go back to the apartment. The work would be finished, and the insurance was sending a cleaning crew. I let a victorious smile spread across my face. No sooner had I hung up than it rang again.

—Good morning. Did you sleep well?

It was her. Her voice finished waking me up completely.

—Honestly, really well. I was out cold. The contractor just called me. In a couple of days I’ll have the apartment ready.

—Did you have breakfast?

—I have no idea what time it is —I said—. But I’m starving.

—It’s nine. I already went to get the car and bought ensaimadas. The girl —though she’s about to start university, we parents still call her the girl— is at her grandparents’ house. I made up some outlandish excuse to take her there and have her help them with a few errands. I’ve got the house empty until this afternoon. Coming over?

She didn’t wait for an answer. She hung up.

Ten seconds later the phone vibrated with a notification. It was a short video. She’d recorded it herself, in front of the wardrobe mirror. She was wearing a thin cotton nightdress with a Lola Bunny print, something that ought to have been funny but wasn’t. She was lowering the straps very slowly, until the nightdress surrendered to gravity and fell to the floor. Underneath, nothing. Nipples hard, flat stomach, and her hand shamelessly sliding down to part her cunt lips in front of the mirror with two fingers, showing me what was inside. Never had a childish nightdress looked so indecent on an adult woman’s body.

I brushed my teeth any old way. I stumbled down the stairs. Ten minutes later I was in front of her front door, my cock already half-hard and pulling against my fly.

***

She opened the door wearing the same nightdress from the video. I didn’t have time to say hello. She grabbed my shirt, pulled me inside, and closed the door with her hip. We started kissing and touching in the foyer, tongues in each other’s mouths and hands kneading the first thing they found. Her nightdress flew to the coat rack, my clothes spilled down the hallway like a trail of breadcrumbs: T-shirt, pants, briefs, all of it leaving a path to the living room.

We didn’t make it to the bedroom. She knelt right there, on the parquet floor, and without any preamble took my whole cock into her mouth. All at once, all the way down, until I felt the back of her throat and heard her cough for an instant before she swallowed me again. I grabbed her hair with both hands, gathered it into a makeshift bun with my right hand, and started setting the pace, pushing her head against my pelvis. She looked up at me with tearful eyes and a filthy smile at the corners of her mouth, saliva dangling from her chin and her left hand milking my balls with obscene delicacy.

—Like that, like that, choke on it, I want to see you —I told her, and she answered by taking even more.

I pulled out before I came and lifted her by the hair. We fell onto the living room rug, a rough rug that would later leave marks on our knees and elbows, but that no longer mattered. I put her on her back, opened her legs, and buried my face in her cunt. It was hot, salty, with that taste of a woman freshly out of bed that drove me insane. I sucked her clit, nibbled it, made it dance between my lips while I slid three fingers inside and searched for that rough patch that made her tremble. I felt her come in less than two minutes, grabbing my hair, shoving my face against her, choking me, until a warm gush escaped her and soaked my chin.

—Sorry, sorry —she laughed, panting—, I didn’t mean to.

—Quiet, we’re barely getting started.

I rode her right there on the rug, her legs up and her ankles on my shoulders. Every thrust tore a new, sharper moan from her. I watched her tits bouncing to the rhythm of my hips, her face red, mouth open. It was a memorable Monday in summer.

From the living room we moved to the kitchen. I set her on the table, shoved the placemats to the floor, and ate her again, this time with her gripping the table edges and digging her heels into my back. Then I stood her up, bent her over the marble, and took her from behind, watching the reflection of her hanging tits moving in and out in the microwave door. From the kitchen to the bathroom, where she made me lean on the sink and found me from behind first with her mouth and then with her hands. I felt her tongue go into a place no one had ever gone, a shiver that climbed my spine and left me clinging to the faucet. Then she turned and sucked me again, looking me in the eye in the mirror, my cock shiny with saliva going in and out of her mouth.

From the bathroom we finally went up to the bedroom. The morning became an inventory: kisses, caresses, saliva, fingers, skin, thighs, lips, neck, lubricant, a couple of toys she kept in the nightstand drawer that I hadn’t known about until then. A pink silicone vibrator she applied to her clit herself while I penetrated her slowly, watching her toes curl. A small plug with a jewel base that she asked me to put in her ass patiently, one finger first, then two, then the toy, while I kept fucking her from the front and felt the foreign bulge moving through the thin wall with every thrust.

We recovered every one of the caresses we hadn’t been able to give each other the week before, when we could only brush elbows while handing over a report or step on each other’s feet under the meeting table.

—I want to try something —she said at one point, pushing me back onto the mattress.

—Try whatever you want —I answered.

And she did.

She settled over me in a way we hadn’t tried before, with her knees at the height of my ears and her soaked cunt a hand’s breadth from my face. Her hair fell forward, tickling my chest, while she bent and swallowed my cock at the same time as she planted her cunt over my mouth. A reversed sixty-nine, with her on top, setting the pace herself. She looked down at me with a smile that wasn’t the one from the office, or the hallway, or the parking lot. It was an intimate smile, almost complicit with herself, as if saying: “we’ve come this far, let’s see how much further.”

I licked her and pushed my tongue in until fluids were running down her thighs and onto my neck. She was no slouch either: she sucked me with both hands, pulled my cock out of her mouth to drag the glans across her lips, spat on the tip, and shoved it back down her throat. I felt her come for a second time that morning, pushing her cunt against my face in short spasms, stifling a cry with my cock in her mouth.

We went on like that for a long while, until her legs started trembling. She turned around, straddled me, and lowered herself onto my cock in one long, deep, measured motion. She started riding me while staring straight at me, hands on my chest and tits bouncing in front of my face. I grabbed her hips and pushed up harder and harder each time, until her ass slapped against my thighs with a wet smack. When I felt myself about to come, I turned her around, put her on her knees, and came over her ass, over her lower back, over the hollow between her cheeks, marking her white with my ragged breathing. She let herself fall forward and we ended up tangled, sweaty, ridiculous, happy, on the crumpled, stained sheets.

***

After noon we went down to the kitchen to recover our strength. The ensaimadas she had bought that morning were overrun by an army of ants. They went straight into the trash. We laughed at that little domestic defeat while she opened the fridge and took out the first things she found: cheese, ham, a couple of tomatoes from her father-in-law’s garden, a bottle of cold water.

We ate standing up. I was in my briefs, she in one of my shirts that reached halfway down her thigh, with nothing underneath. Every time she reached for something, the fabric rode up and I could see the slit of her ass, reddened from the morning’s friction. We didn’t talk much. There was no need. The week before we had talked ourselves hoarse, disguising with words everything we couldn’t do.

Now there was no need to disguise anything.

She looked at me over the rim of the bottle.

—So what do we do now? —she asked for the first time all day.

I didn’t answer right away. I looked at her, hair tousled, lips still swollen, a faint mark of mine on her neck that no one was supposed to see at her house that night. I thought of her daughter coming back in the afternoon, of my apartment almost ready, of the days ahead, of the emails I’d have to keep exchanging the following Monday as if nothing had happened.

—I don’t know —I said at last—. But for today, it’s still not late.

She came closer and kissed me unhurriedly, different from all the kisses that morning. A long, calm kiss, as if we were saying goodbye to something without really knowing what.

Then she smiled again, took my hand, and dragged me toward the bedroom.

—Then let’s make the most of it —she said—. We’ve got a few hours left.

And that’s what we did. She yanked my briefs off on the stairs and started sucking me right there, seated two steps below, with my shirt still on and my cock sliding all the way into her mouth every time she lowered her head. We made it to the bedroom as best we could. This time she asked me to take her from behind, face down on the sheets, with a pillow under her hips to lift her ass. I started slow, with lubricant, easing in little by little, feeling the ring open around the tip and swallow me centimeter by centimeter. She moaned into the pillow, gripped the sheets, pushed her ass back at me asking for more. When I was all the way inside, I stayed still for a moment, enjoying that different pressure, tighter, hotter, and then I began to move patiently, letting her get used to it.

—More, Adrián, more, don’t stop.

I let go. I started fucking her ass hard, hands gripping her cheeks and spreading them so I could watch myself go in and out. She slipped one hand underneath and rubbed her clit at the same time. She came clamping down on me so hard that she dragged me with her. I emptied inside for the second time that day, biting her shoulder so I wouldn’t wake the neighborhood.

We collapsed. We took one last shower together, lathering each other up clumsily, stealing kisses under the hot spray, until the clock started telling us afternoon was bearing down, that her daughter would be back soon, that I had to disappear before the grandparents suspected anything.

When I finally walked out of her house, shirt fastened wrong and hair still damp from our last shared shower, I knew two things at once.

One, that in two days I’d have my apartment back.

And two, that that apartment would never be entirely empty again.