My Boss’s Massage Awakened Something New in Me

My name is Lucía, and I came to the capital from a seaside town I had almost never left. We were poor at home, very poor, and there was no work back there for a girl like me. When the Vargas family spent December vacation on the coast and found themselves without a maid, my mother spoke to them, and before I really understood what was happening, my suitcase was already packed.

I cried like never before. Not so much because I was leaving the sea or the hammock or the evening breeze, but because of Andrés, my boyfriend since forever, whom I dreamed of marrying even though the two of us were equally poor. Into that suitcase I packed a broken heart and a handful of frayed hopes, and I set off for a city I didn’t know.

The first nights were the worst. I cried silently in my room, thinking about Andrés, until I fell asleep from exhaustion. But Señora Renata treated me with a tenderness I hadn’t expected. The work wasn’t hard, she spent the whole day at home, and she was such a talker that she ended up making me smile without even trying.

Little by little I stopped crying. I felt useful sending almost all my salary to my mother, and loved in that house where I lacked nothing. Renata and I became inseparable. She asked me to call her by her name, without the “señora” that, she said, made her feel old, and between laughs we spent hours talking about everything, even intimate things I had never discussed with anyone.

She was an expert on those topics. She told me what she did with her husband as if it were nothing, and I blushed to the tips of my ears. Over time she became very affectionate: she would take my hands to tell me something, tickle me from behind, pat me. I took it happily, with no malice, because I loved her like an older friend.

What I never imagined was that Renata desired me. She told me later that she had been earning my trust, waiting for the right moment. She started making herself visible: in the mornings she would come out in almost see-through pajamas, she would appear in her underwear on the excuse of looking for this or that item. Once she told me she felt a lump in her breast and asked me to touch it to compare; when I did, she took the opportunity to touch me too, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

—This has to be checked every so often —she said, very serious, while her fingers lingered a little too long.

Another afternoon she brought up the subject of touching yourself. She asked me if I did it, and I went red with embarrassment. To make me feel comfortable, she confessed that she did, because her husband didn’t satisfy her. Then I, more relaxed, admitted that I did. She wanted to know everything: where I touched myself, what I thought about, what I felt. I told her what I dared, never imagining that she, all the while, was dying to tell me that when she touched herself she thought about me.

***

One morning, after so many hints, she came up with the massage idea.

—I’ve never had one —I told her, embarrassed—. Not even from Andrés.

—Then I’ll give you your first one —she replied, and kissed me on the cheek—. You’re going to love it.

She had me stay in my underwear and lie face down on her bed. She unclasped my bra “so it wouldn’t get oily,” she said, and began pouring warm oil over my back. Her hands traveled over my shoulders, my neck, my arms, slowly, and every so often she asked how I felt.

—Good —I answered, and I wasn’t lying.

She went down my back, reached my feet, and massaged all the way to my toes. When she came back up, she kneaded my buttocks without saying a word, as if it were part of the massage. I didn’t protest. I was so used to her little pats that it didn’t seem strange, and the truth is, I was liking it far too much.

—Turn over —she murmured.

Face up, she took my bra off completely and spread oil over my breasts. Her fingers played with my nipples for just an instant, just enough to leave me wanting more, and then moved on to my belly. I felt her gaze stop where the fabric tightened between my legs. Then she parted my thighs a little and moved up and down them, coming close to my sex without quite touching it, pressing hard on the highest part. I felt a heat I had never felt before, but I didn’t say anything, terrified she’d realize.

Renata stopped there. That night, alone in my room, I touched myself thinking about her hands, about those fingers that had slipped a little under my clothes, about how close she had come without quite getting there. When I finished, I felt guilty. She loved me so much, and I was full of thoughts I shouldn’t have been having.

What’s happening to me?, I wondered. She’s a woman, she’s my boss, it can’t be.

***

The next day I couldn’t bring myself to look her in the eye. I kept my head down, I didn’t talk, and I had always been such a chatty person. Renata noticed right away; with things like that, nothing got past her. She didn’t push me. She waited. I was still washing dishes in silence when I felt her press against my back.

Her fingers slid along my arms and her mouth settled on my neck, her tongue tracing my skin very slowly. I froze, cold, unable to move. But she kept at it, gently, and little by little the guilt dissolved and only the trembling was left.

—Lucía, I want you —she whispered in my ear—. I don’t know what you’re going to think of me, but I’m going crazy for you. Do you like it when I touch you?

I wanted to scream yes. No voice came out. She began to pull away, defeated, and then I blurted it out:

—I do like it.

—You have no idea how happy that makes me —she murmured—. You can’t imagine how long I’ve been thinking about this.

—You really won’t think anything bad about me?

—Not for the world. I’m shaking just knowing you feel the same way.

I was still rigid, with a plate in my hand under the stream of water, not knowing what to do. Renata took it from me carefully and turned me toward her. She didn’t kiss me; she traced my face with the pads of her fingers, played with my ears, brushed my neck.

—Do you want me to give you another massage?

—Yes —I said softly—. I’d really like that.

She lifted my chin, kissed my forehead, and led me by the hand to her room.

***

She untied my apron, pulled down the zipper of my dress, and had me lie face down. Like the last time, she unfastened my bra and massaged my shoulders, but now she kissed my neck while she did it, and then she started licking my back. I could feel my sex pounding like never before; all I could think about was how good every touch felt.

She ran her tongue down my spine and my whole skin broke out in goosebumps. She reached my buttocks and nipped them gently. My first sighs escaped me, and hearing them made her breathe harder. She turned me onto my back, forgot about the oil, and returned to my neck. My sighs were turning into something else.

She placed her tongue on one of my nipples, just a graze, and then on the other. Then she went up to my chin and rested her lips on mine, waiting. I opened my mouth, she opened hers, and we kissed slowly, deeply, searching for each other. I wasn’t innocent when it came to kissing; I had learned with Andrés. What I didn’t know was desire between women, and that night it revealed itself to me completely.

While she kissed me, her hand slipped under my underwear. She found my clit and started rubbing it in circles, slowly at first, then more firmly. I opened my eyes, closed them, opened them again; pleasure wouldn’t let me think. I moaned against her mouth and came for the first time on her fingers, holding her against me with all my strength.

She gave me no respite. She went down to my breasts, sucked them, played with my nipples, and kept going until she stripped off my last garment. I felt her open my legs, I felt her look, and then her tongue, hot and wet, right where I was about to explode. I writhed, lifted my hips, screamed without recognizing my own voice. Renata brought me to a second orgasm that left me breathless.

Then she put two fingers inside me. I was dripping wet, but tight, and she had to push. I bit her lip in delight and started moving over her hand, nonstop, crying out until I came undone again. She licked her fingers, let me taste them, and in a kiss we shared that taste of myself that I had never imagined enjoying like that.

***

—Now it’s my turn —Renata said, lying back.

She didn’t expect much from me, I learned later; she thought that because it was my first time with a woman, I would barely know what to do. She put a breast in my mouth and I sucked it like I needed it, moving my tongue, nibbling gently. She was trembling; her nipples were very sensitive and every touch sent shivers through her.

She took my hand and guided it to her sex, showing me how she liked it. Her clit was small, different from mine, and she taught me to push my finger in to reach it. I followed every instruction carefully, attentive to every sigh, wanting to give her the same pleasure she had given me.

When I worked up the nerve, I went between her legs. I stuck out my tongue and slid it all the way in, moved it, sucked her lips, pressed her clit again and again. I held her hips and drew her toward my mouth, inviting her to move over me. Renata moaned without control, astonished at what that country girl was able to do to her, and came in my mouth, trembling all over.

And then something happened I hadn’t expected either. Something lit up inside me. I shoved her against the bed, grabbed her wrists, and drove my fingers in all at once, hard, going in and out while I bit her nipples. She opened her eyes, amazed that the shy maid had taken control. I took her to the edge, made her come again, and in the end I pulled my fingers out and sucked them in front of her, looking her straight in the eye.

Renata laughed, exhausted and happy, and held me close.

—I knew you were going to be mine —she said—. But I didn’t know you were going to want me like this too.

From that night on, I was hers whenever she wanted, and she was mine whenever I wanted. Andrés and the sea were very far away, in another life. The capital, which had hurt me so much, had taught me a desire I would never have known in my village, and I no longer wanted to unlearn it.