The Stranger in the Park Put a Price on That Night

My name is Camila, and that Sunday I’d gone out for a run with no intention other than sweating the boredom out of the afternoon. I was wearing a black sports top, tight shorts that left little to the imagination, and a pair of worn blue sneakers I’d had for ages. The park near my house is large, oval-shaped, full of greenery and a few paths where I almost never run into anyone. That’s why I like running there.

I was heading home, my face red and my breathing ragged, when I saw him. A tall man, well built, dressed too casually to be exercising. I passed him without looking at him for more than a second. He didn’t say anything. I went a few yards farther and then heard his voice behind me.

“Miss, you look lovely.”

I turned only slightly. He was sizing me up from head to toe, without even trying to hide it.

“Thanks,” I replied, and kept walking.

“Forgive my boldness,” he insisted, coming closer. “I saw you running and wanted to approach you. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I liked you the moment I saw you. I live near here. I’d love to take you to dinner, if you’d like.”

That was when I understood where this was going. And, to my surprise, it didn’t bother me. I smiled, still winded from the run, sweat shining on my skin and slipping between my breasts. I stopped, turned to face him, and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

“Just like that, out of nowhere, without even knowing each other, you want to take me to dinner? I don’t even know your name.”

He gave me a confident smile, like someone used to being in control. He took one more step, not crowding me, just enough for his cologne to reach me. It was sweet, pleasant.

“Adrián,” he said, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you. And you are…?”

“Camila.”

I shook his hand and felt his firm grip, the size difference between his palm and mine.

“Pretty name. It suits you,” he said quietly. “I’m not going to lie to you, Camila. Since I saw you, I didn’t just think you were pretty. You have a body you don’t see every day. And you’ve got this energy about you, all sweaty, natural. I told myself I had to meet you.”

I bit my lower lip without meaning to. It wasn’t the first time I’d been complimented on my body, but I liked hearing it. And that “I had to meet you” had a tone that confirmed my suspicion.

“You’ve got good taste,” I replied.

He kept devouring me with his eyes, lingering on my thighs, on my breasts. He took another step. Now I had to look up slightly to meet his gaze. Almost whispering, as if confiding a secret, he went on.

“I don’t want to sound arrogant, but if I’m honest, I wasn’t just thinking about dinner. I was thinking about offering you a hot shower, something more comfortable, and spending a good night together.”

He paused, looking me straight in the eyes.

“I’m the kind of man who values someone who makes him feel something that fast. And if you’re interested, I’m willing to make it worth your while. Not just for the pleasure.”

I held his gaze, waiting to see what he came out with next. I watched him pull his wallet from his pants pocket.

“For you, for that body I can’t pass up, I’ll offer you one hundred and fifty dollars. Just for tonight.”

I stayed calm. I didn’t show interest, or rejection, nothing.

“What do you say, Camila? Feel like having some fun with me? We’re going to have a very good time.”

The park air was still warm, but I felt a shiver run from the nape of my neck all the way to my toes. That’s not a bad amount, I told myself. And, above all, I could feel the dirty thrill stirring through my body: my nipples were hardening against the damp fabric of my top, and I wasn’t wet from sweat alone.

“One hundred and fifty just for tonight,” I repeated softly, stepping closer. I adjusted my top with my hands, a gesture that gave him a better view of my breasts.

“That’s right. Just for tonight,” he answered, lost in my movement.

I smiled wickedly.

“I might consider it for two hundred. Since you think I’m so unique, I know I’ll be worth it.”

I tugged my shorts into place, outlining everything again. I stepped back a couple of paces.

“And if you want me to go upstairs with you, sweaty and all, you’ll have to take my sneakers off with your teeth. The clothes too. What do you say, Adrián?”

“Deal,” he said, with the confident voice of a man who thought he’d already won.

“Let’s go, then.”

***

He put his hand on my waist and led me to his car, parked at the edge of the park. He opened the door for me, a real gentleman. In about ten minutes we arrived at his hotel. He told me he was traveling for work, that he was leaving in two days, and that running into me had been pure chance. Curiously, on the way he didn’t try anything, except to leave his hand resting on my thigh.

The lobby was beautiful, luxurious. We went straight to the elevator. The moment the doors closed, I felt his hands on my waist and, just like that, he lifted me. Instinctively I wrapped my legs around him, holding on tight, while he pressed me against the wall and kissed me without restraint. His tongue explored every corner of my mouth, teasing mine.

Every second I was getting wetter. After doing absolutely nothing in the car, now he was making his move. Between the excitement of the kiss and the possibility of the doors opening and someone seeing us like that, I felt his hard bulge press against my sex. It felt huge, and that only turned me on more.

The room was on a high floor. I didn’t notice which one, but from how long it took us to get up there and from the view, it had to be. The whole city was lit up. I didn’t get a chance to appreciate it: he threw me onto the sofa.

“Now then, Camila. Tonight you’re completely mine,” he said in a rough voice, with a confidence that made me wetter.

Playing along, he lifted one of my legs and began kissing it, licking it, slowly making his way down until he used his mouth to undo the sneaker laces. He took off my shoe, then my sock, and then gave my foot a long lick.

“Adrián, don’t do that. I’m all sweaty,” I said.

“I don’t care. I want to taste all of you. Make what I paid worthwhile.”

I liked the idea that he wanted me whole, without reservations. He repeated the same ritual with the other leg, drawing little moans from me. He came up to my shorts and yanked them off in one pull.

“What a view I’ve got of you. You’re fucking hot.”

With his hand he started stimulating my clit, and moans escaped me without permission. He lowered his head and kept going with his tongue, licking slowly around it, until I could no longer control myself. First he slipped in one finger. Then two. Finally three, while his tongue kept working, a double stimulation that soon brought me to my first orgasm of the night. My legs were trembling, and he kept licking, stubbornly, despite how sensitive I was.

“You come so beautifully, Camila. I love how you taste,” he said, standing up and taking off his clothes.

I took off my top. My nipples were so hard they hurt.

“Suck on my tits,” I asked him.

He didn’t even hesitate for a second. He sucked hard, and moans started escaping me again on their own. Meanwhile, I reached for him and started jerking him off. He left a hickey or two along the way, but I didn’t care: what I felt was worth every mark. Until he stopped, lifted me again, and carried me to the bed, a huge bed in the middle of the room.

“Now we move on to the fun part,” he said, with a smile that promised things.

He took out some straps and tied my hands behind my back so I couldn’t use them, then put a blindfold on me. Not being able to see him turned me on even more. I didn’t know what he was going to do to me, and the uncertainty was part of the game.

“Lift that ass up high and spread your legs. I want your face pressed into the mattress,” he ordered.

I did as I was told. Face down, I lifted my ass and spread my legs, completely exposed. I felt him secure my ankles to the corners of the bed so I couldn’t close them. I was immobilized, fully offered up.

For a moment he did nothing. I felt him get off the bed. I heard him looking for something, but I couldn’t see what. Then came the first slap on my ass, which made me cry out: it caught me off guard. Then another, on the other cheek, which made me moan. Then I felt something cold and wet pressing against my ass.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Don’t talk. You can only moan and scream. If you talk, you’ll be punished,” he said, as he pushed something round inside me in one single motion. I moaned louder.

Three more slaps landed on each side, bringing tears to my eyes. My skin burned, it stung after every blow. The cold air in the room hit my hot body and sent shivers through me. I was exposed, immobilized, aching, and still I wanted more.

I felt his breath in my ear.

“This is how you like to be, isn’t it?”

He yanked my hair back, forcing my spine to arch as much as it could, and he entered me in one hard thrust. I let out a long moan. One hand gripped my waist while he increased the pace. He felt thick, huge, like he was splitting me in two, and every thrust moved the object inside my ass, pressing against me harder and harder. He let go of my hair and I collapsed, sinking into the mattress. Another slap made me scream.

“That’s it, scream. I like it that way,” he said, not slowing down.

I could feel him pulsing inside me, growing even bigger, his breath ragged. He held me firmly by the waist and pushed deeper until he let out a rough groan and spilled hot inside me. That was enough to send me into a second orgasm that left me trembling, breathless, my heart racing, and even wetter than I already was.

***

After a few minutes he pulled out of me and untied my legs. Innocent, I thought we were done. I was very wrong. He brought my bound hands to the front, turned me onto my back, and positioned himself over me. Without giving me time to breathe properly, he filled my mouth.

“Clean it up well. Not a single drop wasted.”

I could hear him moaning while he used my mouth at his leisure, unhurried. Then he stopped again, lifted me, and took me to another part of the room, still blindfolded and tied up. The floor felt icy beneath my knees.

“Kneel down and open your mouth wide,” he said.

I obeyed. I knelt, opened my mouth, and felt a warm liquid fall over my face and tongue. It took me a second to understand it wasn’t water.

“That’s how I like you. You’re worth every dollar. Don’t close your mouth,” he murmured, using me however he pleased.

At dawn I woke up sprawled on the bed, hair a mess, body sore, the sheets tangled. On the nightstand there was an envelope and a note: “I’m leaving you a little extra for how good you made me feel last night.” I counted the money. It was three hundred. One hundred more than we’d agreed.

I sat there for a while, watching the city wake up through the big window, still feeling the heat of the night on my skin. I wouldn’t see him again, I thought. And yet I already knew that fantasy would haunt me for a long time.