The Lawyer Waiting for Me When I Left the Party

About a year ago, around Christmas, we organized one of those games in the lab where coworkers exchange blind gifts. Secret Santa has its fans and its detractors, and also skeptics like me, who go along with the collective stupidity just so we don’t look like bitter killjoys.

The instigators were always the same, Andrés and Tomás, the same guys who organized every unofficial celebration at the lab where I worked as a pharmaceutical sales rep. My name is Mateo, I live in a city in the south, I turned forty not long ago, and I’m happily divorced. I work out, I dress carefully because image matters in my line of work, and I like women who read, especially if they scream in bed.

That year I had it rough: I’d been given Daniela. She was the kind of woman who likes being the best at everything. I didn’t know how much she earned, but judging by her clothes and the car she drove, she made a hell of a lot more than I did, even though her advisory role was just an extra on top of her schedule.

A couple of months earlier, the company had had to deal with an annoying lawsuit over one of our medicines. The manager himself, Esteban Cano, had insisted on hiring her at any price, from among all the lawyers at a prestigious firm. Maybe because she had been first in her class, maybe because she was a woman and around forty, probably because of all of it at once.

I arrived at dinner with no great expectations. The good part would come later, when we went out drinking. And besides, I hadn’t gotten lucky with Secret Santa. I was almost about to ask Andrés to swap Daniela for Lucía, a much more approachable secretary, if you know what I mean, but in the end my guilty conscience won out.

Seducing Daniela had too many drawbacks. The first was the obvious one: she was in another league. She drove a sports car that cost more than my apartment. The second was that she had become the manager’s pet project, and the slightest misstep with her would mean my immediate firing. And to make things worse, there were rumors she had a partner, though no one had confirmed it because she was extraordinarily private and no one dared ask her.

All through dinner I had to work hard not to look at her. The funny thing was that the first time I saw her she had seemed almost ordinary. That impression never lasts. She had only been in the office two months and already I was drawn to her in some irrational way: the too-thin silhouette, the too-abundant hair, the too-dark eyes, penetrating and haughty.

I spent several days wracking my brain to find a gift that would surprise a woman who had everything. In the end, when Daniela opened the package, she laughed as she pulled out some striped stockings and a novel I had enjoyed the previous summer. Of course, she didn’t know her Secret Santa was me, just as I never found out who had gifted me a pair of blue sneakers. But seeing her light up left me wearing a grin of pride and idiotic romanticism I couldn’t hide.

To give myself courage to approach her, I followed the advice I’d heard Andrés give so many times: have a couple of beers, or five. Drunk, at least I’d have an excuse if I made a fool of myself.

Until that night, I had spent a good part of my life hunting women. There had been an innate knack that the daughter of a neighbor made me discover when I was fifteen. Since then, my longest relationship had barely survived two years, and almost all the others blew up before they even reached two months. Yet Daniela had given me the first thrill that felt like love in a long time, and the most intense one I could remember.

***

When I came out to the auditorium doors, I found her on the right, her back against the wall. She was wearing a black cotton dress that suited her divinely. I had seen her leave earlier and assumed she’d be smoking, but no: Daniela was looking at her phone.

I couldn’t believe a woman like that was alone. Where was the catch? I walked over without too much caution, making an effort to stay upright.

“Tired of the party?” she asked by way of greeting, slipping the phone into her bag.

Of course I was tired. I didn’t understand what I was still doing there, though I was beginning to suspect it. Waiting.

“I think I’ve had enough to drink,” I admitted.

“I’ll vouch for that,” she smiled, noticing the way I was swaying.

“I reek of beer, don’t I?”

“I’m not exactly doing great either, mind you,” she confessed, showing me an already empty glass.

“How many have you had?”

Daniela looked at me with a certain disdain before straightening up with an ambiguous, delicious movement. She came closer than was wise and, pursing her lips, blew a soft, warm breath at my face that smelled of gin.

“Pff…” I blinked at the hit.

At that moment the distance between us was minimal, but there were still a few years, hundreds of thousands of euros, and a couture dress between us, all in her favor.

We laughed freely and sat right there, on the step at the entrance. Even though it was our first real conversation, we used tu and our first names as if we’d known each other forever. There was no airs of a rich lady chatting with her gardener about her. Besides, she was drunk, and the ancients said there was truth in wine.

I was surprised that a woman so educated and sophisticated was talking to me as if it were nothing. I couldn’t find in her that halo of arrogance that gives away people with power and money. I had grown up on the outskirts and knew how to recognize it from far away. On her face there was no smile of superiority, none of that condescension we grandchildren of immigrants know so well.

She told me a little about herself, about a mother who had spent forty years sewing in the basement of a notion shop, making deliveries to people’s homes. About an afternoon after school when a huge car stopped beside her and a classmate’s mother invited her in “because it was no trouble at all.” Daniela understood it at once. That phrase made her into the most studious of pupils, into a woman determined not to give any adverse circumstance power over her.

“Daniela, I wanted to ask you something…” I mumbled. “I understand you really like reading…”

“Oh, Mateo, don’t start with that,” she cut in, almost frustrated. “Don’t get me wrong, I love knowing you’re not some yokel who hasn’t opened a book since grad school, but right now the only thing I care about is having a good time. I live alone in a gorgeous penthouse, at work I’m surrounded by assholes, and it’s been a year since I broke up with the man I thought would be my life. I’ve gone, let me think… six months without fucking anyone. Six. Not a dick, not a tongue, not someone else’s finger. Nothing.”

“I think I need another drink,” I said. “Are you coming on to me?”

“If you need a drink, there’s tequila in the boardroom.”

“Excellent idea,” I replied.

***

Daniela set down her glass and zigzagged to the lobby door, which she pushed open clumsily. I followed her upstairs, uneasy, trying not to look too much at her ass, though the dress clung to her with every step and I could make out the line of her thong pressing under the fabric. In front of the boardroom she stopped and leaned her back against the wall.

“Mateo, I’m about to turn forty,” she lied. “I’m warning you: if you try anything, I’m not going to resist.”

And suddenly, with an irrational impulse, she came at me with such vehemence that I almost stepped back.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” I told her.

“And you haven’t had enough.”

I saw her frown. There was so much impatience in the darkness of her eyes that I realized her fists were clenched. I’d kiss her right now, I thought, surprising myself. But I remembered the manager, infatuated with her despite the years between them, and the rumor about her partner.

“Where’s the tequila?” I asked, looking for an escape.

“In the cabinet, behind the markers. Though I’m not sure you should…” she sighed. “Forgive my lack of decorum, Mateo. You can’t imagine how desperate I am. I’ve had my cunt wet since I saw you swaying in the auditorium, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise any longer.”

I stared at her, bewildered by such a burst of drunken honesty. If we were anywhere else, I’d kiss her right now, I thought again. I’d take her face in my hands and brush those full lips that I liked so much.

“Come on, Mateo. Kiss me already. You’re dying to, and honestly at this point I don’t care if you kiss worse than my last ex.”

“Daniela,” I struggled to find the words, “I swear I like you, but I think you’re drunk.”

“Of course I’m drunk. How unromantic, but what does it matter, in a few years we’ll be laughing about this while telling our kids,” she said, bursting into laughter. “Kiss me or I’ll start screaming.”

“Daniela, please, don’t do that,” I begged, stunned.

“Ha, ha, ha. You’re such an idiot. Not just you, everyone. Why the hell do your legs shake when a woman asks you for what she wants? Fuck me on that table, Mateo. Put it in all the way. Is that so hard to understand?”

I watched her wrestle between desire and fear of reprisals. She was one step away from breaking every rule, from risking everything. And I knew that, if she took that step, I would answer without holding back.

Then she grabbed my shirt and planted a kiss on my mouth. It was a clumsy, hard kiss, tasting of gin, mouth open and eyes closed. We clung to each other with absurd desperation, devouring one another in an instant when time stopped for us. Her tongue came in angrily, looking for mine, and I bit her lower lip until she let out a rough moan that shot straight to my groin.

I slid my hand under her dress in one yank. The fabric gave and I found her bare thigh, hot, and higher up the edge of a soaked thong. I moved it aside with two fingers and touched her without preamble. Daniela’s cunt was dripping, slick, swollen. I pushed one finger in, then two, and she spread her legs, bracing herself against the wall to make room for me.

“Fuck,” she gasped against my neck, “don’t stop, keep going, put them all the way in…”

I moved my fingers inside her firmly, going in and out slowly at first, feeling how she tightened around me, squeezing. With my thumb I found her swollen clit and began circling it. Daniela gasped, writhed, and dug her nails into my neck. I closed my free hand around one breast over the dress and pinched the nipple until she let out a growl of rage.

“Inside, idiot, inside,” she begged, grabbing my wrist so I’d go deeper.

A moment later, almost without knowing how, I had her on her knees in front of me, inside that room barely lit by the streetlights. Daniela was truly desperate, and Don Esteban’s haughty advisor was reduced to someone who wanted only one thing: to suck me off there, on the carpeted floor, with her stockings run and her dress hiked up to her waist.

She fumbled my belt open, yanked down my pants and boxer briefs. My dick sprang up hard, pointing at her face, and she gave a low, satisfied laugh before taking it by the base with both hands.

“Well, well,” she murmured. “Look what you’ve been hiding from me.”

“Jesus…” I gasped when she started.

She started by licking me from top to bottom, very slowly, following the vein with the tip of her tongue, pausing under the head. Then she took the tip into her mouth and wrapped her lips around it, sucking with a slow, steady suction that made my knees weaken. She pulled back, kissed the head wetly, spat a string of saliva I could see fall onto my cock, and took me back in, this time deeper, all the way to the throat.

She did it with enthusiasm she made no effort to hide, looking me in the eyes every so often, checking the effect she was having on me. Her wet chin glistened, and strings of saliva hung from the corners of her mouth and dripped onto her cleavage. I could barely stay on my feet. I fought the urge to take her by the nape, because I didn’t want to interrupt anything she herself was dictating to her own taste.

“Fuck my mouth,” she whispered, letting me go for a second, pressing my cock against her lips herself. “Don’t be afraid, Mateo. Fuck it.”

I grabbed her hair with one hand and pushed. I felt her gag, swallow, resist. I was going all the way in and she didn’t turn away, breathing through her nose, letting me use her. Each thrust drew a wet gurgle from her. When I pulled out, she spat a thick stream over the tip and took me whole again.

Contrary to that disappointing first impression, at that moment there was no more beautiful woman for me. It wasn’t just her skin, or her almond eyes, or her wavy mane: it was those full lips moving back and forth slick with saliva around my cock, that smile slipping through in between, satisfied to have me at her mercy.

She sucked my balls too, one by one, taking them into her mouth carefully while still jerking me with her hand. Then she went back up, licking, and swallowed me whole again. I felt everything collecting at the base and warned her.

“Stop… please,” I begged, almost out of breath. “I’m going to come.”

“Then come,” she said, and kept going, faster, pressing her lips and rolling her tongue over the head.

But Daniela was impossible to persuade. That self-assured woman believed she alone had authority in the room. How wrong she was, and how much I liked that she was wrong. She sucked me with exact technique, moving her hand up and down opposite her mouth, taking me down her throat every three or four thrusts until I knew I couldn’t hold on any longer.

When I couldn’t take it anymore, I exploded in a spasm that bent me forward. I filled her mouth with semen, hot spurts she took without pulling away, lips sealed around the base, letting me empty every drop. When I finished, she opened her mouth to show me the thick semen on her tongue and, without taking her eyes off me, swallowed slowly. Then she ran her tongue over the tip to clean me, sucking the last traces away, and it was she who smiled, frankly amused, licking the corner of her lips with insolent calm.

“Your turn,” I said, taking her by the waist and lifting her up.

I set her on the meeting table, ripped off her thong in one pull—I heard the elastic snap—and tucked it into my pocket. I opened her dress in front until her breasts sprang free, round, with dark brown nipples, very hard. I sucked one while pinching the other between my fingers, twisting it, tugging until she arched with a growl. I bit the skin of her chest, marking her, and slid down her stomach, licking to her shaved pubic mound.

I spread her knees and knelt between her legs. At first I was clumsy, too eager, shoved my whole tongue in at once and she shifted uncomfortably until I moderated the pace. I pinched her cunt lips with mine, slowly, one first and then the other, and made her sob. I licked from bottom to top, following the glossy groove, deliberately avoiding the clit to drive her mad. Slow, fast, slow.

“Yes… like that,” she directed me, burying her fingers in my hair.

“Hands off,” she warned when I wanted to use mine. “Or I’ll have to tie you up.”

And like an obedient slave I put my arms behind my back and kept going between her legs. I kissed her down there the same way I would have kissed her on the mouth, lips open, sucking her swollen clit between them, moving my tongue without rest, and that drove her so wild she clutched the edge of the table. I sucked the little bud gently between my teeth and felt her belly contract in waves.

She came over my face on her own, pushing her pelvis, fucking my mouth from above with an obscenity that made my cock hard again. When I felt she was close, I broke my own rule: I let my arms go, slid two fingers inside her and curled the tip, searching for the rough spot at the back while I kept sucking her clit.

“There, there, don’t stop, don’t stop, you son of a bitch, don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice breaking.

I was the one responsible for taking her to the edge, and I did it with determination. Daniela got so frenzied she almost ripped out a lock of my hair, never stopping pressing her body against my face. She wanted to look at me, not miss a thing, but in the end she was the one who lost. She burst in a tremor that ran from head to toe, a long convulsion, and I felt the warm rush of her juices soaking my chin and neck. She came braced on the table as if she might fall, and she squeezed my fingers so hard inside her I could hardly move them.

I’m sure she screamed. As sure as I am that afterward we just stared at each other, panting, not quite knowing what to say. But before she could decide anything, I laid her on her back on the table, hooked the backs of her knees with my arms, and spread her legs wide open. I was hard again already, and she licked her lips when she saw me.

“Put it in already,” she ordered. “Don’t make me wait any longer.”

The tip of my cock slid against her swollen cunt. I rubbed it up and down, smearing it in her wetness, and then thrust in one shot all the way to the hilt. Daniela let out a rough, sharp howl and arched her back against the cold surface of the table. She was so tight and so wet at the same time that I had to freeze for a second so I wouldn’t come at the first thrust.

I started fucking her slowly, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in to the base, letting her feel every centimeter. The table creaked under her ass. I grabbed her tits with both hands, squeezing them, leaning over her, and sped up. The sound of my balls slapping against her ass filled the empty room, a wet, obscene splashing mixed with her grunts.

“Harder,” she demanded, biting her lip. “Harder, Mateo, break me.”

I took her by the hips and rammed her with every bit of strength I had, driving her into the table, knocking the air out of her with each blow. Her tits shook in rhythm, and she took one hand to her clit, rubbing herself while never taking her eyes off me as I fucked her. She used the other hand to pinch one nipple, torturing herself, completely surrendered.

“Turn around,” I told her, pulling out abruptly.

She obeyed without protest. She climbed down from the table, turned, and bent over it, resting her elbows on the wood and spreading her legs. The black dress wrinkled around her waist, her perky ass pointing at me, shining in the half-light. I slapped her with an open hand, dry and ringing, and she let out a rough laugh before wiggling her ass, asking for more. I hit her again, and again, until the skin beneath my palm turned hot and red.

I guided myself with my hand and shoved back into her from behind, one thrust, all the way to the balls. From that angle I went deeper, and I could feel the back of her cunt give way with every push. I grabbed her hair, pulling her back, and she arched her neck, offering it to me. I bit the back of her neck while fucking her at a steady, brutal pace, listening to the echo of our flesh slamming together in that room where, in the mornings, quarterly reports were discussed.

“Like that, like that, like that,” Daniela repeated against the wood. “Don’t you dare come yet, don’t you dare.”

I brought my wet thumb to my saliva and pressed it to her ass, just slightly. She let out a long moan and spread her legs wider, allowing me. I pushed it in to the knuckle, slowly, while I kept ramming her cunt, and I felt her go taut as a string, trembling.

“Dirty pig, like that…,” she gasped, pressing herself against my hand. “Keep going like that, don’t pull out.”

I pulled out again, turned her once more, and sat her on the table, this time facing me. I wrapped her legs around my waist, grabbed her under the ass, and lifted her with my cock buried in her. Daniela laughed in surprise, crossed her ankles behind my back, and let herself drop with all her weight, impaling herself all the way. She started moving, riding me in the air, clenching around me from within every time she rose and fell.

“I’m going to come again,” she warned, clinging to my shoulders. “Don’t stop, don’t stop…”

I dug my fingers into her ass cheeks, squeezing them, helping her bounce. She came apart in my arms with a spasm I felt run through her from the cunt outward, wrapping around me, milking me. That was when I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Where,” I managed to say, “where do you want me to…”

“Inside,” she said, pressing my face between both hands. “Come inside, I want to feel it, do it now.”

And I exploded. I thrust all the way in, crushed her against my body, and emptied myself in waves while she squeezed my legs against her waist so I wouldn’t move. Everything was spilling out inside her, and I held her there, my thighs trembling, not wanting to let her go.

I lowered her slowly and she let herself drop seated on the table, still with her legs open and a white thread sliding down her thigh to the carpet. She looked between her legs, then looked at me, and laughed.

“Mateo, this was, hands down, the best idea I’ve had in six months.”

***

After the Christmas dinner, Daniela went two weeks without speaking to me, avoiding me in the hallways. When I finally insisted she explain what the hell was going on, she told me she was convinced I had taken advantage of the fact she’d been drinking. I doubted the sincerity of that delayed outrage, but I apologized and we made up.

Little by little her workload eased, because in the end there was no trial. Thanks to her strategy, the company settled with the plaintiffs, and the manager, magnanimous as ever, gave Daniela a trip to the other side of the world.

As for me, I never knew what was more gratifying: seeing my boss drool after her every morning, or remembering the face she made that night, when the woman everyone feared laughed at me in the boardroom and made it clear who was really in charge.