What I Confessed After Returning from Shenzhen

The drizzle in Shenzhen would not let up, and Tomás felt the sky had tuned itself to his mood. It was past midnight when he walked back to the hotel, coat collar turned up and the meeting still lodged in his throat. Months of preparation, spreadsheets, rehearsals in front of the mirror, and the executives had listened to him as though waiting for the rain to stop so they could go out.

“What a fucking night,” he muttered in Spanish, and the words sounded out of place among the neon signs.

In his room, he took a long shower. The hot water carried away the cold, but not the frustration. Wrapped in a towel, he did the only thing he could think of to feel at home: he opened a video call and waited for the two women who anchored him to the world to appear on the other end, back at their house in Tigre.

Renata and Bianca were lying on the bed, one against the other, tousled, the bedside lamp tinting everything amber.

“How did it go, my love?” Renata asked, and just hearing her voice loosened his shoulders.

“A disaster,” he admitted, sitting on the edge of the hotel bed. “I talked and talked, and it was like talking to a wall. And I don’t mean the language.”

Bianca moved closer to the camera, her eyes still heavy with sleep.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You always exaggerate.”

Renata, on the other hand, said nothing. She placed her open palm on Bianca’s belly and began drawing slow circles, never taking her eyes off the screen. Her fingers descended with calculated slowness, brushing the elastic of Bianca’s panties, then slipping inside without hurry.

“Maybe what you need is to relax a little,” she said at last, in that low voice Tomás knew by heart. “Want us to help you?”

He felt the first tug of desire displacing his fatigue. Seeing them together always did that to him, whether he had known them for fifteen years or fifteen minutes.

“Yes,” he said, and the towel was already getting in the way. “I think I do.”

He threw the towel onto the floor and settled against the headboard, his half-hard cock already in his hand. On the screen, Renata yanked Bianca’s shirt off and bit one of her nipples until the other woman let out a short moan. Bianca’s white, heavy breasts hung over the camera while Renata continued working her tits with her mouth, sucking hard and leaving red marks around the areolas.

“Take off your panties,” Renata ordered without lifting her head. “Let Tomás see your cunt properly.”

Bianca obeyed. She rose slightly, slid the fabric down to her ankles, then spread her legs again in front of the screen, offering everything: her already swollen lips, glistening with wetness, her clitoris peeking out between the mound of brown hair Tomás knew inch by inch.

“Look at me,” Bianca panted, running two fingers up and down her slit. “All wet thinking about you.”

“Put them inside,” Tomás answered hoarsely, beginning to move his hand up and down over his cock. “Slowly. Let me see them go in.”

Bianca pushed both fingers in to the knuckles and arched her back with a long moan. Meanwhile, Renata had stripped completely and settled between the other woman’s legs. She pushed Bianca’s hand away and put her mouth to the cunt without ceremony, sucking her clitoris with the calm hunger Tomás knew from having had her there a hundred times between his own thighs.

“Fuck,” he murmured, squeezing himself harder. “Don’t stop.”

“Do you like what you see?” Renata asked without lifting her head, her chin shining.

“Very much,” he replied, his voice breaking. “Eat her cunt properly. Put your tongue inside.”

Renata obeyed. She buried her tongue in Bianca and dug her nails into her thighs to hold her open, while one thumb worked her clitoris in circles. Bianca writhed on the mattress, clutching her breasts, tugging at her nipples, staring at the camera with her mouth open.

“Make her come on your face,” Tomás requested, his hand moving faster over the cock already dripping onto his belly. “I want to see her finish.”

“Almost,” Bianca gasped. “Oh, almost, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

Renata inserted two fingers and kept sucking Bianca’s clitoris, curling her fingers inside with the precise knack of someone who knew every corner of another person’s body. Bianca howled, clamped her thighs around Renata’s head, and shook all over, her hips lifted from the mattress, her cunt streaming over the other woman’s mouth.

“Your turn,” Bianca murmured when she could speak, still trembling.

Renata climbed onto Bianca’s face without taking her eyes off the screen and lowered her hips until she fitted her cunt into Bianca’s mouth. Bianca grabbed her ass with both hands, spread her wide, and began licking her with her whole tongue. Tomás saw them from the perfect angle: Renata riding, tits pointing at the ceiling, mouth open; Bianca beneath her, swallowing everything that came down.

“Touch yourself for me, love,” Renata asked Tomás, rocking her hips over Bianca’s mouth. “Jerk off thinking I’m the one sucking you.”

Tomás squeezed harder, spat into his palm to lubricate himself, and began pumping his cock to the rhythm Renata set over the other woman’s face. He watched Renata grab her breasts, tug her dark nipples, bend forward, and press her tongue against the camera as though she were licking his glans.

“Come over here,” Renata panted. “Move closer to the screen. Let me see everything come out.”

That was enough. Tomás felt his orgasm rise from his balls, clenched his teeth, and started shooting over his belly, hand, and chest, while on the other end Renata screamed with Bianca’s mouth locked onto her clitoris and came too, soaking the other woman’s face up to the eyebrows.

The three of them remained, breathing hard, the sound of their breaths cutting through the hotel’s silence. Bianca pulled her head out from beneath Renata’s thighs, drenched and laughing.

“Go to sleep,” Bianca said at last, blowing a kiss at the camera with her glistening lips. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

“I love you both,” Tomás murmured before hanging up.

He fell asleep immediately. Despite the failure, he felt less alone.

***

Morning arrived gray, beneath the same heavy sky. Tomás chose a sober suit and went over the presentation for the umpteenth time. “This time it has to work,” he told himself. “There won’t be another chance.”

He arrived early at the meeting room, a glass-and-steel box with a very long table in the center. He was arranging his folders when a soft voice, with the sweet accent of Mandarin, interrupted him.

“Do you need any help?”

He looked up. She was a young woman of serene beauty: pale skin, dark almond-shaped eyes, black hair cut at jaw level. She wore an immaculate black suit.

“No, thank you,” he replied, barely looking at her, already returning to his papers. “I’m fine.”

She nodded with the faintest smile and went to sit at the head of the table. Tomás thought nothing of it. It was his first mistake of the day, and the worst.

When the room was full, the same woman stood.

“Good morning, everyone. My name is Mei Cheng. I’m the general director of this company, and I’ll be conducting the negotiations.”

Tomás’s stomach tightened. The founder’s daughter. The engineer who had studied abroad and now ran one of the country’s largest technology groups. He had dismissed her like an assistant.

He gave the presentation anyway, with his usual confidence, but knew he was sinking before he finished. The faces across the table were as expressionless as they had been the night before. When he lowered the final slide, Mei was the one who spoke.

“Thank you, Mr. Tomás. Your proposal is… too direct. Too aggressive for our way of doing business. Let’s continue tomorrow.”

And she stood. Tomás remained alone among his folders, failure weighing on his shoulders like a backpack full of stones.

***

He went out into the street, still beneath the drizzle. He had not walked a block when he heard his name. Mei approached with a black umbrella, without the room’s poise, more human beneath the rain.

“Would you like to have coffee?” she said bluntly. “I think we need to talk.”

They sat in a corner of a place that smelled of tea and sweet pastries.

“Your presentation was technically impeccable,” she began, her hands wrapped around her cup. “But culturally, it was a disaster. Here, business isn’t a quick transaction. It’s a relationship. Trust. You came to sell us a used car: rushed, pushing us, leaving no room to build anything.”

He listened, nodding slowly.

“And what should I do?”

“Redo everything. Talk about collaboration, respect, growing together. Use images we understand. Talk about symbiosis, not conquest. Partnership, not acquisition.”

As she spoke, her eyes met his for an instant longer than necessary. Tomás recognized that spark: he had seen it hundreds of times, and he was never wrong.

“Why are you helping me?” he asked. “You could have let me sink.”

She took a while to answer, playing with the rim of her cup.

“I don’t like seeing talent wasted. And you… interest me.”

The word hung suspended between them. They talked for hours: about her studies abroad, her father’s shadow, the pressure of being “the boss’s daughter” in a man’s world. He told her about his work, his travels, his life in Buenos Aires. He did not mention Renata or Bianca. It was not the time.

“Tomorrow, same time,” Mei said when they parted, inclining her head. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Back at the hotel, Tomás worked until dawn rewriting every slide. He wrote to Renata, but she was on call: “Complicated delivery, love. I’ll write when I’m out. I love you.” He smiled and continued. He was not going to disappoint Mei. Or himself.

***

The next day’s meeting was something else entirely. He spoke of partnership, mutual respect, and building bridges. This time the executives nodded, asked questions, and suggested adjustments. When he finished, Mei extended her hand.

“Excellent, Mr. Tomás. I think we’re going to reach an agreement.”

The contract was signed three days later: millions that would make history at the Milan headquarters. On the last night, elated, he took a chance.

“Shall we celebrate?” he suggested to Mei. “Dinner. To celebrate and to thank you.”

She looked at him for a long while, evaluating him as she evaluated everything.

“Foreigners are an enigma to me,” she said at last. “But I accept.”

***

They chose a restaurant hidden behind a red silk screen, embroidered with golden dragons, where paper lamps cast warm shadows across the table. Dinner began formally and loosened with the wine. Every time their hands brushed across the tablecloth, something crackled in the air.

“In my country, we celebrate by shouting,” Tomás remarked as he poured her wine, his fingers lingering over hers.

“Here we do it in silence,” Mei replied. “But we feel no less.”

“What if we continued this celebration somewhere more private?”

She did not answer immediately. She looked at him, calculated, and decided.

“Yes,” she said, barely above a whisper. “I think I’d like that.”

They could no longer hold back in the elevator. Tomás pressed her against the wall and kissed her the way he had wanted to kiss her since the café. Mei dug her nails into his back and bit his lip until she drew blood. He slipped his hand beneath her skirt, found the edge of her stocking, and continued upward until he reached her already-soaked panties.

“All wet, and I haven’t even touched you yet,” he murmured in her ear, moving the fabric aside with two fingers and pushing them deep. “How long have you had it like this?”

“Since the café,” she gasped, pressing herself against his hand. “Before that.”

They stumbled into the room, leaving clothes along the way. Tomás tore her blouse, sending two buttons flying, unclasped her bra, and caught one nipple in his mouth. Mei pulled his hair so he would bite harder. By the time they fell onto the bed, she was naked except for her stockings.

“Take it off,” she ordered, pointing at his trousers. “I want to see it.”

Tomás undid them and let his trousers and boxer briefs fall at once. His cock sprang forward, hard and thick, and Mei’s eyes widened. She rose to her knees on the bed, grabbed it with both hands, measuring it while looking up at him.

“Big,” she said, half statement, half question.

“Suck it and you’ll find out how much,” he replied, placing a hand on the back of her neck.

She opened her mouth and took him in at once, as far as he would go, then began moving up and down with the precision she brought to everything. She licked the tip, ran her tongue down the shaft to his balls, sucked them one by one, then came back up and swallowed him as deeply as she could until she gagged. Her eyes filled with tears, but she did not let go.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he panted, gripping her hair and helping her set the pace. “You suck cock so well.”

Mei pulled his cock from her mouth with a wet sound and smiled at him, her chin covered in saliva.

“Now you.”

She pushed him onto his back against the mattress and opened his legs. She licked the insides of his thighs, lingered over his balls, and continued up toward his chest. Then she climbed back over him, kneeling above his face.

“Eat me,” she asked, lowering her cunt until it brushed his lips.

Tomás grabbed her ass with both hands, spread her wide, and buried his tongue in her without warning. He tasted her from bottom to top, lingered on her clitoris, sucking it like candy, then went down again to push his tongue inside as deeply as he could. Mei gripped the headboard with both hands and began moving over his face, riding his mouth.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped, throwing her head back. “Oh God, don’t stop…”

He inserted one finger while continuing to suck her clitoris, then another, curling them inside her. She trembled all over, her thighs squeezing his ears, her cunt dripping over his mouth. He held her at the edge as long as she could stand it, until Mei pulled his head away, too sensitive.

“Enough,” she gasped, laughing and trembling at once. “No one has ever made me feel like that.”

“We’re not finished yet,” he promised, rising to find her mouth.

He laid her on her back, lifted her legs against his chest, and settled between her thighs. He gripped his cock and ran the tip along her slit, up and down, wetting it thoroughly in her cunt before beginning to push.

“Put it in me,” Mei begged hoarsely. “Put it all the way in at once.”

He entered her slowly, looking into her eyes, feeling her receive him hot and tight inch by inch. When he was fully inside, he stayed still for a moment, letting her adjust, watching her open her mouth soundlessly.

“Fuck me,” Mei finally murmured, driving her heels into his back. “Fuck me hard.”

He moved slowly at first, then with everything he had, pulling almost all the way out and plunging back into her with one thrust. The room filled with the sound of their pelvises colliding, the headboard striking the wall, and their broken moans. He caught her wrists and pinned them to the mattress above her head, fucking her with the force she demanded with every thrust of her hips.

“That’s it, don’t stop,” Mei cried, completely out of control. “Harder, God, harder…”

He changed positions: he turned her onto her stomach, lifted her hips, and entered her from behind again. From that angle he could see all of her, her back arched, black hair falling over her face, her white ass taking every blow. He slapped one cheek with an open hand, and she let out a surprised moan that ended in a hoarse laugh.

“More,” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. “Another one.”

He slapped her again, and again, watching her pale skin redden in the exact shape of his hand. He grabbed her hair, wrapped it around his fist, and kept fucking her, pulling each time he thrust inside. Mei came first, with a muffled cry into the pillow, her cunt squeezing his cock in spasms that he felt race through his entire back. He lasted two or three more thrusts, then came inside her, burying himself to the hilt as his orgasm spilled out in waves.

They collapsed beside each other, soaked. Mei curled against him and ran a finger over his chest, following the line of hair downward.

“I want to try something,” Tomás said carefully. “But only if you want to. If you tell me to stop at any point, I’ll stop. No questions.”

“What?” she asked, intrigued now.

“Your ass.”

She looked at him, hesitated, then slowly nodded.

“I’ve never done it. But with you… yes.”

He took his time, patiently. He got the lubricant from his toiletry bag, positioned her on her side, and lifted one leg over his. He ran his lubricated fingers over her asshole, massaging it slowly, drawing circles, rushing nothing. He pushed one finger in to the knuckle and waited. She tensed, then gradually relaxed.

“Breathe with me,” he murmured. “Slowly.”

He added a second finger, moving them inside her with the slowness that cost him so much, while his other hand worked her clitoris to keep her wet, to mix pleasure with the novelty. When he felt she was ready, he settled behind her and placed the tip of his cock, already coated in lubricant, against her.

“Push back against me,” he asked. “You control the pace.”

Mei pushed slightly, and the tip entered. She stayed still for a second, breathing hard, then continued pushing back against him until she felt him filling her little by little. When at last he was fully inside, she let out a long moan of startled fullness, and he embraced her from behind without moving.

“All right?” he asked, biting her shoulder.

“All right,” she gasped. “Move. Slowly.”

He moved slowly and deeply, with long thrusts that drew a moan from Mei with every rocking motion. With the hand in front, he kept working her clitoris, three fingers squeezing her cunt while he fucked her from behind. She began pushing back against him, seeking more, faster, deeper.

“More,” she begged, her voice unrecognizable. “Fuck my ass harder.”

He obeyed. He braced himself on one elbow, held her hip with the other hand, and began fucking her with all his strength while continuing to masturbate her from the front. The sound of their skin striking, her moans, the creaking mattress: everything blended into a single heartbeat.

“I’m coming,” Mei gasped, almost sobbing. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I…”

She exploded in a way that left her breathless, clutching the sheets with white knuckles, her whole body shuddering in waves. He held on for a few seconds longer, watching her finish, then let go as well, emptying himself inside her with a long groan.

“Never,” she whispered afterward, still trembling, her head against his chest. “I’ve never felt anything like that.”

They showered together and returned to bed. He fucked her again with her on top, riding him slowly, her breasts within reach of his mouth. Then she sucked him again until he emptied everything onto her tongue, and Mei swallowed it without letting a drop fall. They made love almost until dawn, trying different positions, laughing, and starting over. When Tomás woke, she was gone. On the bedside table was a note: “Early meeting. Thank you for everything. Let’s have lunch. M.”

***

Before noon, he called Renata, knowing it was the middle of the night in Buenos Aires.

“Are you all right?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

“Better than all right. We closed the deal.”

“Tomás! Congratulations, my love! I knew you’d do it.”

“I couldn’t have done it alone,” he said, taking a deep breath. “The director, Mei, helped me. And… something else happened. We spent the night together.”

There was silence. Not an uncomfortable one, merely a pause.

“Was it good?” Renata finally asked, without a trace of sharpness in her voice.

Tomás felt the air return to his chest.

“Incredible. Different. She was… restrained, almost shy at first, and then she let go like a storm. I fucked her ass, Rena. I’d never done it before, and she came in a way I can’t explain to you.”

“Sounds interesting,” she said, and he heard the smile in her voice. “Did you treat her well?”

“Like a queen.”

“Then congratulations on both things. On the deal and on your conquest.” She laughed softly. “Go have your lunch. And give Bianca a kiss from me when you call.”

Tomás ended the call and stared at the phone. He had the best family in the world, and he knew it. There was nothing to hide, and because of that, nothing weighed on him.

Lunch was long and unhurried. Mei arrived in jeans and a silk blouse, another woman outside the meeting room. They talked about their childhoods, their fears, and their dreams.

“And Renata, does she know about us?” Mei asked, playing with the beer label.

“I told her this morning. We hide nothing from each other. The three of us are in an open relationship. Renata, Bianca, and me.”

Mei looked at him as though translating a difficult language.

“In my culture, love is possession. Exclusivity.”

“In mine, it’s trust,” Tomás replied. “Trusting someone so completely that you know nothing can threaten it. The love you give one person doesn’t take anything away from another. It multiplies.”

She thought about it, her fingers entwined with his on the table.

“Love as expansion, not limitation,” she said slowly. “It’s… an interesting concept.”

***

The farewell at the airport was brief and honest, with no impossible promises. They both knew it was unlikely they would see each other again, and perhaps that was why the memory remained intact, with no time to disappoint anyone.

After a two-day stopover in Rome, Tomás landed in Buenos Aires. The air in Tigre seemed cleaner than ever. The door to his house opened before he reached it, and there they were, Renata and Bianca, arms open. He ran to embrace them both at once.

“We missed you,” Renata whispered in his ear.

“I missed you too. Too much.”

That night, in the bed they shared, he told them everything: Mei’s intelligence, her passion, the way she let herself go. They listened without jealousy, with curiosity and tenderness, and as he spoke, their hands began moving on their own.

Renata undid his trousers and pulled out his already-hard cock, wrapped her hand around it, and slowly began drawing back his foreskin. Bianca, on the other side, bit his neck and tugged one of his nipples. Tomás closed his eyes and let them do whatever they wanted.

“Tell me more,” Bianca murmured against his ear. “Tell me how you fucked her.”

“Hard,” he gasped while Renata lowered her mouth and licked the tip. “I pulled her hair, put her on all fours, slapped her ass.”

“And did she like it?” Renata asked, her tongue occupied.

“She asked for more.”

Bianca sat on top of him, still wearing her shirt, and pressed her naked cunt against his face. Tomás needed no instruction: he grabbed her ass and began eating her with the hunger he always had when he returned from a trip. Bianca moaned, moved over his mouth, and held onto the headboard. At the same time, Renata was sucking him with her whole mouth, her hand accompanying her, her eyes raised to watch the other woman riding Tomás’s face.

“Come here,” Renata said at last, pulling his cock from her mouth. “Put it in her.”

Bianca lifted herself from his face and settled onto her back in the middle of the mattress. Renata spread her legs and lay on her side, her head between Bianca’s thighs, to eat her while Tomás penetrated her. They arranged themselves without speaking, as they always did. Tomás knelt, lifted Bianca’s hips, and drove into her at once, all the way to the hilt.

“Oh, oh,” Bianca moaned, clutching the pillow. “God, I missed that cock.”

He fucked her slowly, deeply, while Renata continued licking Bianca’s clitoris without interruption. Renata’s tongue sometimes brushed the base of his cock too whenever he pulled out, and the double sensation brought him to the edge within minutes.

They changed positions: Bianca climbed on top of Renata in a sixty-nine, and Tomás settled behind them. He fucked Renata first, watching Bianca eat her cunt from inside, then pulled out and pushed into Bianca, who was already coming with Renata’s mouth working her clitoris. He alternated between them, both cunts bright, hot, and tight in different ways, until he came too, over Bianca’s ass and lower back, splashing a little onto Renata’s face as well, which she licked clean without stopping her laughter.

The three of them remained tangled together, breathing. Different from the storm in Shenzhen: gentler, more familiar, no less intense.

“That Mei sounds like someone special,” Bianca said, her hand on his chest.

“She was,” he admitted. “But not like you two. Never like you two.”

“Because we’re your home,” Renata said, and kissed him.

And as they fell asleep tangled together, Tomás knew he had chosen well.

***

A few months later, an email arrived. The subject line said only: “For Tomás.” The message was short and direct, like her.

“I hope you’re well. The deal exceeded all expectations; a resounding success, and my executives have finally begun to see the value of new ideas. I’ve thought a lot about our days in Shenzhen. They were unique. Since then I’ve traveled more, met people, and explored parts of myself I didn’t know existed. You showed me a path. I don’t know whether our paths will cross again; life is unpredictable. But I want you to know that what happened was real, and that it changed me in ways I’m still discovering. I wish you all the best. With affection, Mei.”

Tomás read it twice and went out into the garden, where Renata and Bianca were sunbathing beside the pool. He sat between them and took their hands.

“Is something wrong?” Renata asked.

“Everything’s perfect. Mei wrote to me. She says she’ll never forget what happened there.”

“As it should be,” Renata said, squeezing his fingers. “It was special. For both of you.”

“Yes,” he agreed, watching the light fracture in the water and across the faces of the two women he loved. “It was. But this”—and he squeezed their hands—“is forever.”