What Happened in My Tax Advisor’s Office

Last Christmas left me a gift I would never have imagined. For almost a year I worked in an older man’s home, looking after him and keeping him company. He had grandchildren and nephews to spare, but hardly any of them ever found a moment to sit beside him for a while.

Don Aurelio and I got on from day one. We played cards, chess, went for walks in the park when the weather was nice, and, above all, talked for hours. He told me a thousand stories about his youth, and I interrupted him every step of the way, dying of curiosity, asking for one more detail. He loved that.

One night he fell asleep and never woke up. He went peacefully, without suffering, and sometimes I think he deserved no less.

I went back to looking for work and started as a sales assistant in the lingerie section of a department store right in the center of Valencia. I liked the job: helping customers choose, recommending fabrics, guessing sizes at a glance.

So you can imagine my surprise when, six months later, a lawyer called me. Don Aurelio’s will had been opened, and he had left something for me. I was to attend the reading.

When I arrived at the notary’s office, I was greeted by a room full of sour faces. There must have been about fifteen people there, all in a terrible mood. I recognized almost all of them from the stories the old man had told me over so many afternoons, laughing together at their quirks.

The notary began to read, and then I understood that icy welcome. Don Aurelio had decided to leave me his apartment on Avenida del Puerto, a beautiful duplex with a terrace and a balcony in every room, valued at more than a million euros, with everything inside it.

Everyone looked at me with a hatred you could have cut with a knife, while the deceased man’s lawyer smiled with a certain malice. As a final blow, Don Aurelio had arranged for the taxes and expenses on the bequest to come out of the inheritance itself. I was receiving the whole house without shelling out a single euro.

Well played, old friend.

I signed and left them all whispering, probably insulting me under their breath. I took a few keepsakes with me: the chessboard, some photographs, a pile of old books he adored. And I put the apartment up for sale.

It sold almost immediately. Suddenly, I was rich. But then I got my next surprise: on my tax return I had to pay a ridiculous amount. My coworkers advised me to call a tax advisor.

Apparently he had worked in the area for years and, although he no longer saw clients as he once had, half the neighborhood still went to his office for their paperwork. Everyone spoke wonders of him and trusted his judgment completely.

***

I showed up with a folder full of documents, and what I found was not what I had expected. Adrián was a young man, more or less my age. He was around forty, but he dressed in a modern style that made him look younger.

He wasn’t very tall, and for some reason that made me feel at ease right away. His thin-rimmed glasses gave him the air of a serious, diligent boy.

His chest, defined beneath his fitted shirt, caught my attention, as did his shoulders and arms. Not a trace of the little belly typical of men that age: you could make out a flat stomach, maybe with a bit of muscle.

He was kind and warm from the very first minute, as if we had known each other forever. He took charge of the matter straight away, and that calmed me. I felt comfortable in that office, almost at home.

We set a time to meet two days later, when I would bring him the missing paperwork. He walked me to the door.

When he said goodbye, he gave me two kisses, so close to the corner of my lips that I felt myself go red all at once. As he kissed me, his hand slid over my hip. Or was it a little lower?

Did he brush the start of my ass? I went out into the street confused, not knowing whether it had really happened or whether I had made it up.

On the whole way back, I could think of nothing but his hand on my body and his lips so close to mine. I had butterflies in my stomach, the heat of his touch clinging to my skin, his voice repeating in my head. By the time I got home, my underwear was soaked.

***

Two days later I went back convinced it had all been my imagination, a simple misunderstanding. And yet, for some reason I couldn’t explain, I put on my best lingerie set.

During the meeting he explained concepts I didn’t understand: capital gain, acquisition value, deductible expenses. He seemed so intelligent, so confident, that my mind kept drifting back to the memory of his hand and I couldn’t take anything in.

—Come closer, I’ll show you on the computer and you’ll see it much better —he said.

I moved closer and he stood behind me. I felt his breath on the back of my neck and his hand resting on my hip. A strange heat rose up my legs and into my throat.

I closed my eyes without thinking, tilted my head, and parted my lips. His finger came to my mouth and a desire I couldn’t hold back made me catch it with my tongue and suck it slowly.

He slid his other hand under my dress. I was wearing stockings, so he had free rein. In a rush, he grabbed me by the waist and sat me on the desk, pulling my thong aside with his thumb to touch me.

I was burning. I could feel myself getting wet beneath his fingers. Adrián bent down, pulled the thong to one side, and started licking me: first the inner thighs, slowly, then the lips, up and down, until he stopped right where I needed him most.

I couldn’t have been more aroused. I felt my breasts swollen, my nipples hard, and I had no choice but to touch them, first stroking them and then squeezing harder and harder.

When he bit me softly, a long gasp escaped me that I couldn’t hold in.

No one had ever made me feel like that. I couldn’t think, I only felt myself about to explode. I couldn’t take it anymore and I came in his mouth, moaning like a madwoman while he didn’t pull away.

Afterward he kissed me. There was a salty taste on my lips.

—I love hearing you —he murmured—. You’ve got a gorgeous pearl.

When he pressed against me, I felt his erection against my thigh and touched him over his trousers. He was very hard and I was dying to see him. I tried to undo them, but he stopped my hand.

—That’s enough for today. Time to go home.

He walked me to the door again and, when saying goodbye, he touched my ass once more, this time squeezing one cheek properly. At that moment I started to adore that routine: my body in his hands. With a gentle shove he sent me out into the street and closed the door.

***

My legs were shaking all the way home. It had been the best orgasm of my life and I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I relived every lick, how worked up he had left me, and again I was wet just remembering it. I couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to have him inside me. I needed to strip naked, touch myself, finish what we had left half-done.

I filled the bathtub with hot water and started to caress myself. First my breasts, mentally licking them the same way he had, my nipples hard and burning again. Then I moved down my legs and couldn’t hold back any longer: I slipped a finger inside, imagining it was him possessing me.

One finger wasn’t enough. I put in two, then three, while with my thumb I brushed that pearl he had liked so much. Imagining him entering me, I came again, screaming his name against the silence of the bathroom.

***

The next day I went back with more documents. I didn’t know what was going to happen, but I had bought something special: an open thong, designed so he could take me without anything in the way. That was what I wanted most. I didn’t put on a bra; I wanted him to be the one who stroked, squeezed, and bit me while he made me his.

The meeting went on with maddening normality. I was starting to lose hope that anything from the day before would happen again.

At one point he turned toward the filing cabinet to look for a folder, and then I saw it. He had the ass of a Greek statue carved in marble. How had I not noticed before? Round, firm, one of those that make you want to bite them.

I couldn’t hold back. Before I even thought about it, I caressed him with both hands. I ran them over him, enjoying that perfect firmness, and as I squeezed I got hot all over again, once more right on the edge.

He turned around and kissed me furiously, shoving his tongue all the way in. He reached under my skirt, found the open thong, and brushed me with his fingers.

—You’re already wet for me —he said, while unbuttoning my blouse—. What else have you brought prepared?

He liked seeing me without a bra. He started licking my breasts, first stroking them and then squeezing them, carefully biting my nipples. I thought I would go crazy with desire.

Then he turned me around and bent me over the desk. He pulled down his trousers and, holding me by the shoulders, entered me with a firm thrust. It was exactly as I had imagined. I started moaning the moment I felt him filling me completely.

His hands went back up to my breasts and then down to my clit. I thought I wouldn’t last another second; both of us were panting without any attempt to hide it. Suddenly he stopped, pulled out, and turned me around again.

—Not yet —he said.

He sat down in the chair and made me ride him. Then I was the one in control. I rubbed myself against him first, slowly, and then guided him inside me. I lowered myself very slowly; I didn’t want it to end, I wanted to feel everything while he devoured my breasts.

In the end I couldn’t take any more and sped up. I came moaning with pleasure while he put his fingers in my mouth. Almost at the same time he gave a rough groan and came too; I felt his heat filling me from within. We both finished at once, wrapped around each other, breathless.

Those were my first visits to my dear tax advisor. The matter was complicated, of course, and we had to repeat many meetings, in which we had time to satisfy that passion in the most varied ways.

Whenever I have a question, I go to him. And, of course, every year he does my tax return. And a few other things besides.