The Choir Baritone Invited Me to His House

This is one of those stories I keep fondly, from a few years ago. I was twenty-two, and it all happened during a barbecue at the house of the choir director I went to on Saturdays. There were about twenty of us. The house was huge: a pool, a dirt soccer field, wide terraces, and a bunch of rooms. The atmosphere was relaxed, family-like, full of laughter, kids running around, and music floating through the air.

I always got along well with everyone, but there was someone with whom things were different. Tomás was twenty-eight, a baritone, fair-skinned, a little taller than me, with a short beard and messy but curiously neat hair. We didn’t talk much, but we kept crossing glances all the time.

When we arrived, almost everyone stayed on the terrace beside the pool chatting. I was telling a few girlfriends that I was starting college the following year, and that’s when I found out Tomás had a degree in music. There’s something about musicians, really. We talked for just a few minutes, just enough, but from that moment on I started to feel his gaze fixed on me. I looked back and smiled at him. It was around three in the afternoon and the heat was unbearable, the kind that sticks to your skin.

I wasn’t embarrassed to get in the pool; besides, there were several kids there, the other women’s children, so I went to the bathroom to change. My swimsuit was a two-piece, blue and green, matching the highlights I had in my hair back then. When I came out, I ran straight into Tomás. He was in swim shorts too. He was attractive without being over the top, neither muscular nor skinny, just a very pleasant average build.

“Romi, I was looking for you,” he said.

I was surprised. “Me? What for?”

“I was told you always bring sunscreen.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some here. Want me to give you some?”

“Yes, please, beautiful.”

God, I love men who aren’t shy. Every second that passed, his ease disarmed me a little more.

I looked in my bag and handed him the sunscreen. I thought he’d leave, but instead he started applying it right there: legs, arms, chest, neck, with an almost provocative calm.

“Will you help me? Or will your boyfriend get mad?” he said with a cheeky smile.

I laughed. “What boyfriend? Turn around, funny guy.”

He laughed too and turned around. I started massaging his back while I spread the cream, and I felt the heat of his skin under my hands.

“Your hands are so soft,” he said quietly.

“Maybe it’s your back that’s soft,” I answered, laughing.

He thanked me and, to my surprise, gave me a quick, sincere hug. It was a tiny gesture, but it stayed with me. So tender, so sweet.

***

The afternoon was exquisite. We all went swimming, sang, there were guitars, spontaneous photos. When the sun started to go down, I felt cold and decided to change into something warmer. The director offered me one of the rooms because the main bathroom was occupied. I went into the master bedroom and changed the bottom part for a pair of thin jeans.

When I was unbuttoning the top of my bikini, a door opened inside the room that I had assumed was a closet. It was a bathroom. And the person who came out was Tomás.

We froze.

“Were you waiting for me?” he said, laughing as he turned around immediately.

“I didn’t know you were in there, sorry,” I said, hurriedly finishing getting dressed.

“It’s fine, you can turn around.”

He apologized and sat down on the bed with a natural ease that threw me off.

“You’re so beautiful… you intimidate me a little, honestly.”

I felt my cheeks heat up. “Don’t say that,” I replied. “You’re pretty too… sweet.”

A comfortable silence fell, charged with something that could no longer be ignored. We talked a while longer, about music, life, silly things. Before I left, he barely brushed my hand, as if by accident, but he didn’t let go right away.

***

Later, when the barbecue was winding down and people were starting to leave, Tomás came up to me again.

“Hey, Romi… would you like to come to my place for a bit? It’s nearby. We can keep talking, listen to some music.”

I thought about it for a second. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The ride was calm, intimate. We took about half an hour in his car. At his house there was warm light, the smell of incense and wet earth, lots of plants, and sheet music strewn everywhere. It was his parents’ house, but they were away on a trip. He put on soft music. We sat on the sofa, he offered me tea, which I accepted, and we talked for a while. We got closer and closer until his knee brushed mine. He looked at me as if asking permission.

“I really, really want to kiss you,” he said.

I didn’t answer with words.

He came closer slowly, as if he wanted to memorize my face before touching me. When our lips met, the kiss was deep, slow, charged with something I can’t quite name. His hands were firm but careful; he held me by the waist and pulled me closer. He wasn’t rough. He was so tender.

I pulled back and gasped for breath.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

“It’s just that I still feel like I smell like chlorine, and my parents must be waiting for me. I’ll call them, give me a second.”

Tomás nodded and stood up. I called my dad to let him know I was going to be a little late, but that everything was fine. They trust me; in a few months I was moving to another city to study, and that was already settled.

When I hung up, I caught a sweet, fresh scent. Tomás called me and I went farther into the house. He was in the bathroom. I walked over.

“I prepared the shower for you. After that, if you want, I can drive you home. We don’t have to keep… with the kissing… if you’re not comfortable, I completely understand.”

I smiled and hugged him softly.

Would it be very wrong if we kept going and ended up sleeping together tonight? I liked him, there was tension, he was sweet, and it would only be that. I decided then: if I wanted to and he wanted to, there was no problem.

***

The bathroom was fairly spacious. I touched the shower water and it was warm, nice. I unbuttoned my pants and took them off. Tomás blushed and turned toward the door.

“I… I left the towel hanging here…” I heard something drop as I took off my underwear and stepped into the bathtub. “I’m going… I mean, I’ll be outside, in the kitchen… not outside, I mean here… if you need anything, yell or talk to me.”

I laughed a little.

“Look, what’s this…” I said to make him come closer.

He turned around, looking at the floor.

“What is what…?”

I cut him off by grabbing his shirt and pulling him to my lips. I kissed him slowly. He knelt beside the bathtub and started gently stroking my back.

“Do you want to come with me?” Tomás looked at me with those dark eyes full of surprise and restrained desire, his breathing quickening as he processed my words. He nodded slowly, a shy smile curving his lips.

“Only if you really want that,” he murmured, his voice soft as a caress.

I leaned in a little more, the warm water licking my naked skin, and kissed him again, this time more intensely, my tongue brushing his in a slow, deep dance. He responded tenderly, his hands moving up my arms and tangling in my wet hair. He stood carefully, taking off his shirt with calm movements, revealing a firm torso. Then came the pants, and I saw his cock hardening, ready. But he didn’t rush. Everything about him was slow.

He got into the tub with me, the water splashing a little as he settled behind me. He wrapped his arms around me, his chest against my back, and kissed my shoulder with soft lips. The steam from the bath surrounded us, creating a kind of intimate cocoon where the outside world faded away.

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered in my ear, his fingers drawing patterns along my sides, down to my submerged hips.

I turned my face to kiss him, my hands exploring his chest, feeling the fast beat of his heart. The kiss deepened, tongues intertwining with growing passion, but always gently, as if every touch were a promise. His hands went up to my breasts, kneading them softly, his thumbs brushing my nipples until they hardened and a shiver ran through me.

I let out a soft moan against his mouth, and he sucked my lower lip, then trailed kisses down my neck while one of his hands slid between my legs. His fingers found my entrance, wet and not just from the water, and he caressed me with slow touches, parting me to circle my clit gently. I arched against him, the water moving with us.

“Tomás…” I panted, my hand going down to wrap around his hard cock, stroking it with a firm but tender rhythm, feeling it throb in my palm.

He growled softly, hot breath on my skin, and slipped one finger into me, then two, moving them slowly inside me, curling them to touch the spot that made me tremble. We kissed again, the rhythm of our caresses syncing, pleasure rising like a tide, slow but unstoppable.

I couldn’t hold back any longer. I turned around in the bathtub, the water splashing, and straddled him, my knees braced on the edges. I looked into his eyes, saw the desire there, and lowered myself onto him slowly, feeling him fill me little by little. We both moaned at the same time.

I started moving, going up and down with a measured rhythm, my hands on his shoulders to steady myself. He held my hips, guiding me carefully, his thrusts rising to meet mine. Every stroke was deep, passionate, but wrapped in tenderness. He kissed my breasts while we did it, lapping at one nipple and then sucking it with a soft pull that made me gasp.

“It feels so good…” he murmured, speeding up a little, his hips knocking against mine under the water.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him urgently, our tongues dancing as the pleasure intensified. His hands went to my ass, squeezing it to deepen each thrust, and I felt the orgasm approaching, a sweet heat spreading through my belly.

I came first, clenching around him in spasms, a muffled cry escaping my lips as I held him tightly. He followed moments later, finishing inside me with a low groan, his body trembling beneath mine.

We stayed like that, joined in the bathtub, the water slowly cooling around us. Tomás kissed my forehead, then my lips, with a sweetness that made everything worth it.

“Are you thirsty? Hungry?” I nodded.

“Even though I’m very comfortable, the water’s already cold.”

“Wait a second.” Tomás got out quickly, wrapped a towel around himself, and came back with two glasses of juice. He climbed back into the tub and I lay back against his chest again.

***

The bathroom light was soft, hazy. I rested my head on the edge of the bathtub while he absentmindedly played with my fingers, tracing slow, almost childish circles.

“It was a very lovely afternoon,” I said at last, breaking the silence. “Really… I didn’t expect it.”

He smiled in that slightly crooked way he had. “Do you mean that as a good thing or as ‘this was way too intense for a choir barbecue’?”

I laughed. “As a good thing. A very good thing. From the pool, the sunscreen, the music… everything was sweet. You’re sweet.”

“People don’t say that to me much,” he replied, pretending to be proud, which he was terrible at because he was naturally tender. “Usually they tell me ‘tidy,’ ‘responsible,’ or ‘hey, sing louder.’”

“Well, today you were officially sweet,” I told him. “And fun. Thanks for that.”

He stayed quiet for a second longer than usual. I looked at him and noticed he was thoughtful, but calm, without drama.

“Romi… there’s something I want to tell you,” he began. “Not to ruin anything. Quite the opposite.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That sounded dangerously serious for someone who ten minutes ago was laughing beautifully because I was coming.”

He laughed. “Yeah, when you put it that way…” He took a deep breath. “In four days I’m leaving the country. I won an exchange. A year abroad.”

I blinked, surprised, but not sad. Just honest. “Well, look at you… the international baritone.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Very glamorous, but I can’t put on sunscreen by myself.”

We looked at each other and both smiled. There was no discomfort, no bitter feeling of “what would have happened if…”.

“I’m glad you told me,” I said. “And I’m glad it was today, not tomorrow or later.”

“Me too,” he said. “I think if this was going to be something, it had to be like this. No weird promises. No tragic endings.”

“A beautiful encounter,” I said. “One of those you remember without guilt.”

“Exactly,” he nodded. “Like a short song, but well written.”

I moved a little closer and rested my forehead on his shoulder. “Then let’s toast to that,” I said. “To unexpected afternoons and well-given kisses.”

“And to exchange programs,” he added. “And to the Romis who show up when you least expect them.”

We stayed like that a while longer, talking about nonsense, laughing softly, unhurried. When I finally got dressed to leave, I looked in the mirror and smiled to myself.

“I’m ready,” I said, laughing. “Will you drive me?”

He nodded and we left. We went to the car, I put on the music, and we drove off chatting about what he would do on his exchange, about my future studies. We got there pretty quickly. We both got out.

“Thanks for today,” he said. “Really.”

“Thank you,” I replied. “I hope everything goes beautifully for you.”

We gave each other one last hug, long and sincere. And when I walked into the building, I knew not everything intense has to last in order to be perfect.