What Bianca Awakened in Him That Hotel Night

Adrián was still lying on the rumpled sheets, breathing hard and staring at the ceiling of the room. He could not believe what he had just experienced. Every time he replayed the last few minutes, he felt a heat rising through his chest, a mixture of vertigo and satisfaction he had never known with anyone before.

What unsettled him most was his own body. They had barely finished and he was hard again, ready once more, as if the night had only just begun. With his previous partners it had never worked like this. Twice, three times at most, and then the desire would go out like a candle. But with Bianca it was different. It was as if she had found a hidden key and turned it without asking permission.

What is happening to me?

He heard her moving beside him. Bianca sat up without saying a word, with that lazy elegance she had even for the simplest things, and walked barefoot to the bathroom. The hotel was one of those modern ones, with a glass partition separating the shower from the rest of the room, and from the bed Adrián could see her all the way.

She turned on the water. Steam began to fog the glass, but not enough to hide her. He watched her tilt her head back under the stream, letting the water run down her neck, over her shoulders, between her breasts. She ran her hands over herself slowly, washing every inch of her skin with deliberate calm, knowing he was watching.

Adrián noticed he was getting even harder. It would have been so easy to get up, open the partition, and go in with her, let desire decide for the two of them. But something stopped him.

He remembered a conversation from weeks earlier, one of those long talks in which Bianca had told him something that stuck with him: that he had to dare to do what truly made him happy, without measuring what others might think, without the judge’s voice he had carried in his head forever.

For years Adrián had lived like someone walking down a narrow hallway, always afraid of brushing the walls. Every desire that fell outside the mold he had learned to push to the bottom, to pretend did not exist. And yet there they were, all of them, awake, demanding their turn. That night, for the first time, he did not want to keep pretending.

***

While Bianca stayed under the water, with her back to the room, Adrián got up quietly. His heart was hammering in his chest as if he were about to commit a crime. He went out into the hallway, down to the car in the hotel parking lot with a towel tied around his waist, and opened the glove compartment.

There it was, what he had bought three days earlier and had not dared confess. A black lace garment, just the bottom half, a very thin thread he had hidden like someone hiding a letter he never planned to send. He had looked at it a thousand times without daring to use it. That night, for the first time, he decided he would wear it.

Back in the room, with his hands trembling a little, he put it on. The lace fit snugly over his hips and the thread disappeared between his ass cheeks. The hard part was the front: his cock was so hard the fabric barely contained it, and he looked at himself in the mirror not knowing whether what he felt was shame or a new, intense arousal that made the skin on his arms prickle.

There’s no turning back.

He sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

***

When Bianca turned off the tap and came out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a small towel, the first thing she did was stop dead. Then she smiled. A slow smile, born on her lips and rising all the way to her eyes.

—And this? —she asked, leaning against the bathroom frame with her arms crossed.

Adrián felt his mouth go dry. He lowered his gaze, shy, unable to hold her eyes.

—What… what do you think? —he murmured.

Bianca walked toward him unhurriedly. She lifted his chin with two fingers to make him look at her.

—I think you’re insane —she said, with a tenderness he had not expected—. And I think you’re driving me wild.

And then, without taking her eyes off him, she let the towel fall.

Bianca’s body was bared beneath the warm light of the lamp. Her full breasts, still wet, her narrow waist, and between her legs the unmistakable proof that she desired him too. Adrián swallowed. Far from making him uncomfortable, the sight turned him on in a way he could hardly explain even to himself.

Bianca took his hand and pulled him toward the corner of the room, where a small jacuzzi steamed quietly. They had paid extra for the suite precisely because of that detail, and until that moment neither of them had used it.

They got in slowly into the hot water. Adrián felt the heat wrap around him, loosen his tense muscles, and for a moment he closed his eyes. When he opened them, Bianca was already pressed against him, stroking him over the lace, feeling the wet fabric cling to his skin.

—It suits you —she whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe—. Much better than you think.

Adrián answered with his hands. He searched for her under the water and began to touch her, first carefully and then with intent, until he felt her grow between his fingers. Bianca let out a long sigh and threw her head back against the edge of the jacuzzi.

They kissed. It was not a soft kiss: it was hungry, deep, the kind that leaves you breathless. Adrián traced her neck with his lips, went down to her breasts and stayed there, licking and sucking, while Bianca’s moans grew rougher and filled the room.

***

—Do you want to feel me? —she asked suddenly, looking him in the eyes.

Adrián froze. He had not expected that question. In none of the fantasies he had fed in secret, none of his sleepless nights, had that ever appeared. His stubborn, old mind began to fill with ideas that were not his own, labels someone had planted inside him years ago. That would be like becoming someone else. Like stopping being me.

Bianca read all of it on his face before he said a word.

—Relax —she told him, stroking his cheek—. If you don’t want to, it’s fine. You don’t have to prove anything to me.

And without waiting for an answer, she slid under the water and began to give him oral sex over and under the lace garment, barely parting it with her tongue. Adrián gripped the edge of the jacuzzi. Pleasure rolled through him in waves, and little by little the tension in his shoulders melted away into the steam.

Bianca was in no hurry. While she had him in her mouth, her hands began exploring lower, playing with his entrance in a way he had never allowed himself to imagine. She licked him, teased him, alternating between the hardness in front and the curiosity behind, and he immediately noticed how each one of those touches made him even hotter.

The hot water rose to his chest and the steam dampened his face. Adrián had his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open, attentive to every sensation, to Bianca’s tongue drawing circles, to the promise of something his body was asking for even though his mind still hesitated. For the first time he stopped asking what it all meant and allowed himself simply to feel it.

When she slid one of her fingers in, Adrián instinctively tensed. His whole body went rigid for a second, his breath catching.

—Breathe —Bianca murmured—. Let go.

And he did. Little by little he gave in, letting her play at her own pace, discovering a completely new sensation that left him defenseless. He felt exposed and, at the same time, freer than he remembered ever feeling.

***

But that night Adrián did not want to be only the one receiving. Desire pushed him to take control. With a firm movement, he turned Bianca around and put her on all fours, with half her body hanging out of the jacuzzi.

Her breasts rested on the edge of the marble, brushing the cold surface, and the contrast with the hot water made her nipples harden instantly. Bianca moaned, arching her back, offering herself.

Adrián entered her hard. The first thrust tore a cry from both of them that bounced off the bathroom tiles. Then came another, and another, each one deeper, more urgent, while water spilled over the edge of the jacuzzi and fell to the floor, neither of them caring.

Bianca pushed back to take him all the way, hands gripping the marble and her head hanging between her shoulders. Adrián held her by the hips and drove into her without reserve, letting himself be carried by something he no longer controlled and did not want to control.

The climax hit them almost at the same time, in a jolt that left them trembling, empty and full all at once. Adrián collapsed over Bianca’s back, both of them panting, their skin slick with water and sweat.

They stayed like that a long while, in silence, until the water cooled. Adrián did not know how to name what he was feeling. He only knew that something inside him had shifted, a door that had been closed for years and that night, without meaning to, he had left open.

—Are you okay? —Bianca asked, turning to look at him.

—Better than okay —he replied, and for the first time all night he held her gaze without lowering his head.

They were satisfied, exhausted. But neither of them said it out loud: both were already thinking about the next time.