My Coworker Was Waiting for Me in the Park

There had been something between Carla and me for months. We worked in different departments of the same company, but our tasks crossed paths all the time, and that meant we spent hours together. She was one of those women who walk into a place and change it: long black hair with curls that fell over her face, wide hips, small firm breasts, a way of standing that felt like a challenge. She dressed loose, in baggy clothes and long earrings, and had the habit of looking at me a second longer than necessary.

That night there was a quarterly closeout meeting and after that a company dinner. We ended up sitting near each other and, glass after glass, we drifted until we were side by side without anyone planning it. The alcohol loosened our tongues and something else too. There were double entendres, long looks, brushes against each other that neither of us pretended not to notice.

At one point she got up to go to the bathroom. On the way she turned around and pinned me with her eyes, an invitation that didn’t need words. I counted to ten with the glass trembling slightly in my hand, threw out a lame excuse about going to get something from the car, and got up. No one noticed: everyone was paying attention to a coworker who had taken out a guitar and started the first songs, while the rest sang off-key between laughs.

I caught up with her in a side hallway, far from the lights and the noise. There wasn’t much to talk about. We kissed with a hunger we had been holding in for far too long. I pushed her against the wall and felt her hard nipples against my chest; she felt, against her hip, how aroused I was. For a few minutes there were hands everywhere and mouths that wouldn’t let go.

Not here, there are people a few yards away.

***

Close to midnight the party started to wind down. We’d both had several drinks too many, and I offered to walk her home. We stepped out onto the boulevard and, without saying it, we drifted toward a park a few blocks south.

When we reached a little square, we couldn’t take it anymore. We leaned against a tree in the dim light and started kissing again. I kissed her neck, whispered in her ear.

—I’m burning for you —I told her.

—Yeah? —she answered, with a voice halfway between innocence and something else—. I want you to fuck me.

And without hesitation she slipped her hand inside my pants and grabbed me. There’s no feeling like a woman who goes straight for it, who doesn’t wait or ask permission. In the middle of a park, in the dark, that gesture was an invitation too clear to ignore. I played back: I slid my hand under her pants and immediately felt the change in temperature. With my fingertips I started rubbing her clit in slow circles. In seconds she was wet. She spread her legs, asking for more, and I slid a finger inside her while she kept moving her hand over me.

There we were, both of us against a tree that barely hid us, after midnight, in the middle of spring, a little drunk and completely on fire. Masturbating, panting, her bent slightly with her legs open, me pressing her against the bark. From a distance we must have been a sight you wouldn’t forget, but the place was too exposed: every car that passed swept its headlights over us.

—Let’s go somewhere else —I told her.

She pulled her hand out, licked her fingers with a smile, and I did the same with mine. We looked at each other and laughed like two kids getting into mischief.

—Disgusting —she said, amused.

—And you? —I shot back.

—Me? I love it —she finished, and we kept walking.

***

The few remaining blocks we covered between kisses and hands that wouldn’t stay still. Every city has that park, the usual one, the one couples go to when they want darkness. At night there are people making love in cars, on benches, in unlit corners; nobody judges anybody, everyone watches and everyone is watched. In my city that place is Lake Park.

We arrived riding a mix of anxiety and lust. We headed toward an elevated lookout and, as we got closer, discovered there was already a couple there. She was against the railing, he behind her; the gentle movements left no doubt about what was happening. The woman’s head hung back in surrender, her mouth half-open, and from time to time a low, contained sound reached us, carried away and returned by the wind. We stood there a second too long watching, not moving, as if we were part of the same scene, and that чужa image only turned us on more. Carla squeezed my hand and I felt her breathing change. We kept walking and looked for a little gazebo surrounded by low pines that promised some privacy. Like in every park at night, the shadows from the trees covered the city’s pathetic attempts at lighting it.

And then, the funny part: we got there hot but frozen. We sat close together, in silence, staring ahead without knowing how to start again. Until we both turned our heads at the same time and met each other’s eyes. It was like striking a match. We kissed, a thick kiss, tasting of night and cigarettes. I stopped her in front of me, kissed her neck and shoulders while I lifted her shirt, looking for her breasts. They were hard, the nipples begging for a mouth. I pulled her bra down to the neck and latched onto her tits like a man desperate, soft bites, kisses, moving from one nipple to the other. She held them from the side and offered them to me, moaning and throwing her head back.

I stayed like that for a long while while one hand slid down toward her crotch: first over her pants, then I undid the button, lowered the zipper, and started touching her inside, never stopping kissing her breasts. I felt her give in, spread her legs, crouch a little so my fingers could reach deeper. She got wetter and wetter, until I felt her shudder for the first time.

Then she pulled away and looked at me. She didn’t need to say anything: her face said it all. She gave me a long kiss while she lowered my zipper and pulled me out. She knelt and started slowly, playing with her tongue before taking me into her mouth. The first touch of her lips shook me through and through. I planted my hands behind me and let her do it, feeling the heat, the rhythm, while my breathing sped up and my whole body tensed.

I took her by the shoulders and pulled her up. I pressed myself against her without entering yet, just the friction over that spot we’d both left wet, moving my hips, looking at each other with the wrecked expressions of pleasure. Then I turned her around. She looked at me over her shoulder and lowered herself to the ground, on all fours, offering herself. Our pants and underwear were tangled around our ankles.

The shadows covered us, but we were in the center of an elevated gazebo, in the middle of a public park, after midnight, half-naked, sweaty, our hearts pounding. Nothing mattered to us. Seeing her like that, her back arched and everything offered, turned me on even more. I had the urge to go in hard, but I held back. I ran the tip over her sex a couple of times and only then penetrated her slowly. I pushed forward feeling a heat that almost burned, sliding in without resistance. She rested her head on her hand on the floor, taking each thrust with a low moan.

After a while I pulled out and stayed there watching, pulled back a little and brushed another spot with the tip.

—Oh, how I like that —she said, reaching a hand back to touch herself.

I thought it was an invitation for more, but no.

—Not now —she stopped me—. Just rub me, I’m about to come.

I felt a pang of disappointment, but I didn’t care. I kept going a little longer, searching for her rhythm, while she playfully dodged any attempt I made to go further. I decided to go back in all at once, all the way, with anger and desire at the same time. I drove her forward and we both fell without me slipping out. She lifted her hips and I thrust like a possessed man. The movements turned frantic, I felt her contracting around me, squeezing me, while she came with a long shudder that drenched me completely.

She slackened on the floor of the gazebo. I pushed a couple of times more.

—Ahhh, I’m coming —I warned her.

—Pull out, pull out —she said, and turned around, grabbed me, and brought me to her mouth just in time. She held me and didn’t let me escape, swallowing with a calm that finished burning me up. I lifted my head, looked at the night sky, and let it all go.

I let myself fall sitting beside her, while she was still savoring it with a satisfied smile.

—Mmm, so good —she said, in a tone that had nothing innocent about it.

We ended up both sprawled there, panting, our pants around our ankles, her shirt and bra still around her neck, in the middle of a dark gazebo, in some random park. Nothing mattered to us. We had enjoyed ourselves, and the place, the possibility that someone might show up, had made it a thousand times better. We straightened our clothes, looked at each other, kissed again. Then we sat down on a bench, still lit up, with no desire to leave.

But that’s another story.