My Friend’s Video Call Left Me Burning That Night

It took more than a cold shower to put out what I was carrying inside that night. Renata’s image was still burned in behind my eyes, and the warm water couldn’t wash it away. I stayed under the spray longer than necessary, one hand braced against the tiles and the other between my legs, moving slowly while the heat spread down my thighs.

It wasn’t the first time I’d ended up like that because of my friend, but that night was different. For months we’d been flirting through messages, through glances that lasted a second too long, through jokes neither of us ever quite clarified. I kept telling myself it was curiosity, nothing more. That morning I started to understand it was a lot more than that.

I pinched my nipples until they burned, but that burn was nothing compared to the urgency growing inside me. I got out, looked at myself in the fogged-up mirror, and asked myself the same question as always. Why am I like this, so hot, so hungry for anything? I know I draw looks; I know Andrés likes what he sees when he undresses me with his eyes. But that night desire was something else, something that wouldn’t be calmed by the usual.

I picked up my phone and sent Andrés a couple of photos. He replied instantly with one of his own, in the dark on his bed, far away, in another city for work. I wanted a game, wanted him to say dirty things to me like he usually did. Without realizing it, I was rubbing myself against the pillow, straddling it as if it were something else, glancing sideways at my own body in the wardrobe mirror.

But Andrés was tired, and an off phone wasn’t enough for me. I opened my chat with Renata. We’d arranged to go to the gym early the next day, and she’d texted me a while earlier. Without thinking too much, I started a video call.

She answered reclined on her bed, her chest bare and a lazy smile on her face.

—What’s the miracle? Calling this late? —she said, pushing her hair back.

—Andrés being absent —I confessed—. And your messages earlier. You left me impossible.

She laughed softly.

—It’s not that serious, you little menace.

Then she turned the camera.

Beside her, a man was sleeping. On his back, naked, one arm draped across his forehead. It was Damián. I recognized him right away because Renata had told me about him, even though I’d never seen him like that. My friend pointed the camera back at herself, amused by my expression.

—Looks like you like him —she said.

I didn’t answer. There was no need. To make it worse, she lowered her hand and started touching him, slowly, looking straight at me through the screen. He was still asleep, but his body wasn’t. I watched him react to her touch, watched Renata moisten her fingers and run them over him again and again.

I was already soaked between my legs.

—Show me —she asked.

And I obeyed. At that moment I would have done anything just to keep watching them. I lowered the phone to my belly, spread my legs, let her see how wet I was.

Renata leaned over him and took him into her mouth. She moved in slow, teasing licks, tasting the tip, playing with her tongue while holding my gaze. Damián woke up at some point; I felt his eyes searching for the camera, felt that he saw me. I didn’t care. I came right there, hard, my breathing ragged and my hand trembling.

She climbed on top of him and the two of them ended up facing the screen. I watched closely, without blinking, as he went in and out, as Renata threw her head back. I didn’t mind watching; on the contrary, discovering that I liked watching lit me up even more. It was like being in the room with them without anyone being able to touch me, and that distance made every detail feel sharper: the shine on their skin, the sound slipping through the microphone, the way she bit the pillow so she wouldn’t cry out too loudly.

Afterward he turned her over, positioned her on her knees, and took her more forcefully. When he was about to finish, she quickly turned and took him in her mouth. We ended the call laughing, both of us breathless, and agreed to meet at nine. I lay there for a while staring at the ceiling, the phone turned off on my chest, replaying the scene over and over.

I slept little and badly, but I slept.

***

I arrived at the gym in short skirt-style leggings and a top with a generous neckline. I didn’t choose it innocently. Renata was waiting for me at the entrance, and when she saw me going up the stairs in front of her, she gave my thigh a slap that was more caress than joke.

We worked out for barely forty minutes. Neither of us had our heads in it. We left to grab something light at a café on the corner, a small, quiet place where the owner seemed to know her well. We sat in the back corner.

—Before you ask —she said, stirring her coffee—, Damián is work. And pleasure. But it started as work.

—Work? —I cut in—. What do you mean, work?

—Do you remember I told you I did audiobooks?

I did remember. Renata has a deep, velvety voice, one of those that sticks to you. What I didn’t know was her specialty: erotic stories. She recorded under a pseudonym, Luna1994, and had listeners who followed her without knowing who she was.

—One day —she went on— Damián came up to me at the office and asked if I was Luna. Just like that, out of nowhere. He’d recognized me by my voice.

—No way.

—I swear. He caught me so off guard I admitted it. And he confessed he listened to everything I recorded. That he loved it.

She lowered her voice and leaned over the table.

—And he told me he had another job too. On weekends he did shows. Bachelorette parties, nightclubs, that kind of thing.

Just imagining it had me burning again. Renata noticed, of course she noticed, and under the table she stretched out her leg until it rested on my thigh. She was wearing a loose skirt, and when I slid my hand underneath, I found she wasn’t wearing anything else. I touched her slowly, never taking my eyes off her, while she kept talking as if nothing was happening.

—After we got to know each other a bit —she said, her breathing a little shorter—, I suggested we record audios together. And he threw another idea back at me: why only audio, why not stream video? Live, for subscribers.

—And why are you telling me all this? —I asked, though I already sensed the answer.

—Because I see potential in you —she replied, and held my wrist so I wouldn’t stop—. You’re always turned on. You have a gorgeous body. And I’d rather have you as an ally than as competition.

I couldn’t resist. I kissed her right there in the café corner, and that kiss was all the yes I needed. After that I filled her with questions and she answered them one by one. That she’d recommend me. That I should give her a private email and an account for payments. That we were going to start slowly.

The novelty, the excitement, all of it together was gnawing at me from the inside. And she wasn’t helping, rubbing herself against my leg under the tablecloth. Suddenly she stood up, mischievous, and said she was going to «pay at the register.» I watched her walk toward the bathrooms and, before going in, she winked at me.

I went after her.

***

The bathroom was small, with white tiles and a light that was too bright, but neither of us cared. I found her standing there, her skirt hiked up, a toy in her hand. She made me kneel first, take it into my mouth, and then she sat me on the sink and shoved it in all at once, slow and then suddenly, until she made me scream against her shoulder. She covered my mouth with her other hand, laughing, while I clung to the back of her neck.

—This —she whispered in my ear— is a gift from the one who’s about to come in.

I didn’t understand until the door opened. It was the café owner. It turned out he listened to Renata too, that he was one of her most faithful listeners, and that his careful attention to the back table had not been a coincidence. Now I understood why he’d left us that corner.

He didn’t ask us for anything. There was no need. Renata knelt beside me and between the two of us we took him, taking turns, while he held onto the doorframe. There was something about sharing him with her, about meeting her gaze over his body and laughing in silence, that I liked even more than the rest. It wasn’t just the man; it was the complicity, knowing we were both in on the same thing.

He didn’t last long. He finished across her chest with a muffled groan, but he didn’t soften; on the contrary. He grabbed my hips, firmly, and filled me in one hard thrust. My thighs were clamped so tightly around him that when I came, my fluids ran all the way to the floor. He came again, this time in my mouth, and then said goodbye without another word, promising he’d send someone to clean up and asking us to get dressed.

We left the bathroom as if nothing had happened, fixing our hair. We got into his car and he drove me home. On the way we didn’t talk much; both of us just smiled out the window.

***

The next day Renata sent me a link. It was one of her stories, read in that voice of hers, and at the end she mentioned the account I’d given her, miaruiz1995, as the contact for «a new narrator» who would soon be streaming live. Interested people had to sign up and pay in advance; only then would they receive access to the broadcast.

I answered right away, eager, hardly able to believe it. Her message came instantly, short and teasing, like her.

—Get ready. We have to go shopping for your new venture.

I hung up the phone and laughed to myself, still burning, knowing this was only the beginning.