My Gym Friend Ended Up in My Bed

After what happened with Martín, I decided I didn’t need anyone.

It wasn’t bitterness, or at least that’s what I kept telling myself each morning while I hung up pictures and arranged cushions in my new apartment. It was clarity. I had spent too long looking outward, waiting for someone to complete me, and that cycle was over. Organized drawers, shelves full of my books, a kitchen that smelled like the candles I chose for myself. That was enough.

It took me almost two weeks to fix up every corner. I painted the bedroom wall that slate blue I had always wanted and that Martín had vetoed without even asking me. I moved the sofa three times until I found the exact angle where the afternoon light came in without being annoying. I went to bed every night with sore muscles and a clear head, which was exactly what I needed.

But eventually there was nothing left to do.

So I looked for a gym.

I found one six blocks away, modern, with good machines and group classes at eight at night. I signed up without thinking too much about it. The first session was a glorious disaster: I showed up convinced I was in good shape and left with my legs shaking in the elevator. At home, while I waited for the shower water to heat up, I sat on the edge of the tub and laughed to myself at my own arrogance.

That night, under the hot water, I noticed how my body reacted to the feel of soap. I hadn’t really touched myself in weeks, hadn’t gone looking for myself, and suddenly my nipples were hard against my palm and my cunt was throbbing with a persistence I couldn’t ignore. I slid my soapy hand between my thighs, slowly, and let out a low moan when my fingers sank between lips already slick. I rubbed my clit in slow circles, leaning back against the cold tiles, legs open and water pouring over my tits. I slipped in two fingers and felt how tight I was, how wet I was inside, and I was surprised by how much I missed that feeling of being filled. I increased the pace of my thumb on my clit until a louder gasp escaped me and I came there, standing up, water streaming down my face and my legs shaking again, this time for different reasons. After that I ate toast, put on a show I never finished, and fell asleep in ten minutes.

***

The next day I arrived at the gym with my muscles still sore from the previous class and every intention of not pushing myself too hard. I was putting my things away in the locker when a woman beside me slammed hers shut and looked at me with an open smile.

—First time? —she asked.

—Second —I answered—. But the first one left me wrecked.

She let out a short, direct laugh that I liked immediately.

—Renata —she said, extending her hand.

—Valeria.

—I’ve been coming for a year and there are still days I leave just like you did the first time. It’s normal.

She had dark hair tied up in a bun that had started falling apart at the sides, and the kind of posture that radiated ease without trying. I didn’t take long to tell her my back hurt from the previous class, and before I finished the sentence her hands were already on my trapezius, pressing with her thumbs in a way so precise it made me close my eyes involuntarily.

—That’s a knot —she diagnosed—. Better?

—Much —I admitted, and it was true.

***

We became friends with that speed that only happens when two people meet at exactly the right moment. Renata was an administrative assistant at a consulting firm, lived four blocks from the gym, liked art-house cinema, and hated capers. I told her about my experiments in the new kitchen and she brought me magazine clippings of décor ideas that, according to her, would look “perfect” in my blue bedroom. During class breaks we went together to the water fountain and stayed talking longer than we should have.

One Thursday, while we were collecting the mats, she asked me what I was doing on Friday.

—Nothing —I replied—. Why?

—We could go out. Get a drink downtown, if you want.

I hesitated for a second. Not because I didn’t want to, but because going out at night still felt oddly exhausting, as if the version of me that used to go to bars and hangouts was still the same one who had been with Martín, and I wasn’t interested in getting that version back yet.

—I’d prefer something quieter —I said—. If you want, come over to my apartment. We’ll order pizza, have a drink. That way we can talk without music blasting at a hundred decibels in the background.

—Sounds perfect —she replied without hesitation.

***

She arrived at eight-thirty with a bottle of wine no one had asked her to bring but which could only be appreciated. She wore a fitted shirt with thin stripes and black jeans, and when she crossed the door and looked around the apartment with that expression of someone silently evaluating it, I felt something like pride.

—It’s very nice —she said—. The blue was the right choice.

We ate on the sofa, legs crossed, with the pizza boxes on the coffee table. I told her I had moved in less than two months ago, that I had come from a situation I preferred not to go into. She didn’t ask for more than necessary. We opened the wine after the pizza, and with the wine, the guard I always keep up without realizing it began to lower.

I don’t know at what point I started telling her about Martín. Not the sordid details, but the overall texture of those last months: the feeling of always being one step behind, of adjusting my rhythms to his until I no longer knew what mine were. When I finished, the silence that followed wasn’t awkward.

Renata looked at me without saying anything. Then she laid her hand over mine, on top of my knee.

—You were too much for him —she said simply.

I didn’t break down, but I came close. She noticed before I did and moved closer without a sound, slid her arm behind my shoulders and let me rest my head there for a moment. She smelled like something warm, wood and vanilla, and I didn’t know whether it was perfume or just her.

When I lifted my head, her face was very close.

The first kiss was slow, almost asking permission. Her lips barely brushed mine before parting. We looked at each other. The apartment was still. Outside, the distant noise of the street could be heard, and inside there was only the sound of the two of us breathing a little faster than normal.

I was the one who closed the distance the second time.

Her mouth answered with more confidence then, and something that had been tight in my chest suddenly let go. I felt her fingers at my nape, in my hair, and I returned the gesture, tangling my hands in her shirt. We kissed with our tongues now, no pretending, biting each other’s lips, and her hand slid down my side until she was squeezing my breast over the dress. A gasp slipped out into her mouth and I felt her smile against my lips.

—We can stop —she said, pulling back just a little.

—I don’t want to stop —I answered—. I want you to fuck me.

***

I took her by the hand to the bedroom and turned on only the little lamp on the nightstand. The light was enough to see her, but not too much. I unbuttoned my dress slowly while she watched me, and when I let it fall to the floor I was left in panties and no bra, with my nipples already hard from anticipation. She bit her bottom lip while she finished taking off her shirt, and when she was left in only the black bra I saw her full tits pressed against the lace and my mouth watered.

—You’re beautiful —she murmured, and it wasn’t a compliment, it was a statement.

She gently pushed me toward the bed and climbed on top of me, straddling me. Her mouth went down my neck, sucking me slowly, marking me, and her hands squeezed my tits at the same time, her thumbs circling my nipples until my back arched. She bent down and sucked one nipple into her mouth, taking it deep, while the other hand pinched the other just hard enough for it to hurt a little. I threaded my fingers through her hair and pulled her against me.

—Like that, don’t stop —I begged.

She switched to the other nipple without looking away from me, her eyes locked on mine as she bit it softly. I felt my panties getting soaked, the wetness running down to my ass, and I spread my legs involuntarily to pull her closer to my body. Renata smiled when she noticed.

—You’re soaking wet —she said, running her hand over the fabric—. You can see right through them.

—Take them off —I begged.

She yanked my panties down over my hips and tossed them to the floor. She spent a second looking at my cunt, open, shiny, swollen, and lowered her mouth slowly, kissing the inside of my thighs first, working her way up with her tongue until she brushed my lips without quite reaching my clit. I lifted my hips looking for her and she laughed softly, pressing me into the mattress with her hand on my belly.

—Stay still —she ordered—. I’m in charge here.

Her tongue found my clit with a precision that made me let out a strangled cry. She started slowly, with broad circles, sucking gently, alternating with long licks from the entrance of my cunt all the way up. She opened my lips with two fingers and slid her tongue inside, going in and out as if she were fucking me with her mouth. My fists were clenched in the sheets and I couldn’t stop moaning.

—Put them in —I told her, my voice broken—. Your fingers, please.

She shoved two in at once and curled them upward, finding my exact spot, and at the same time she went back to sucking my clit with her whole mouth. I felt her pumping with her fingers, fast, hard, while her tongue gave me no rest. My thighs trembled on either side of her face and I could hear the wet sound of her fingers going in and out of my soaked cunt.

—I’m coming, I’m coming —I warned her, and she didn’t change a thing, kept going just the same, and the orgasm exploded between my legs and shot through my stomach and tore a long scream out of me that the neighbors probably heard and I didn’t give a shit. Everything clenched around her fingers, pulsing, and she kept them inside, moving them only slightly, stretching it out until I couldn’t hold on anymore and pushed her head away so she’d stop.

I stayed still for a few seconds with the ceiling moving slowly above me, panting, my whole body warm and loose.

Then it was my turn.

I flipped her over and sat on top of her. I yanked off her bra and sucked her nipples the way she had sucked mine, one first and then the other, until she started moving her hips beneath me looking for friction. I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them down along with her panties, and I was left staring at her dark, thick cunt, already shining from how hot she was.

—Spread your legs wide —I said.

She opened them and I settled myself between them, resting on my elbows. I ran my entire tongue from bottom to top and felt her shudder. I sucked her clit patiently, learning it, noticing when she pressed her thighs against my head and when she relaxed. I slipped in one finger and then two, and she started fucking my fingers with her hips, rocking against my hand.

—Harder —she gasped—. Put them in harder.

I fucked her with my fingers with all the force I could give, and sucked her clit at the same time, nonstop, feeling her cunt tightening around my hand. There’s something only women know about other women, a kind of map that doesn’t need instructions. When she came, she pressed my head against her with both hands and let out a long, deep, guttural sound, while I felt the contractions of her cunt around my fingers, one after another, clenching me, and she panted my name between gasps.

I climbed back up slowly, kissing her belly, her tits, her neck, and when I reached her mouth she kissed me with her tongue still full of her own taste and didn’t care. We stayed wrapped around each other in the dark, saying nothing for a while, legs tangled and skin stuck together with sweat. Then we talked about unimportant things, the way you do when the body is calm but the mind is still awake. At some point we fell asleep.

***

The sun woke me coming in through the blinds I always forget to lower all the way.

Renata was lying on her back beside me, her hair loose on the pillow and her eyes half open, staring at the ceiling.

—Good morning —I said.

—Good morning —she replied, without moving—. Did you sleep well?

—Very well. And you?

—Like I hadn’t slept in months.

I stretched and felt my body light, without the usual morning weight. Renata turned her head and looked at me with a calm smile, no expectations in her eyes. I liked that more than I expected. She slipped her hand under the sheet and stroked my hip, then down to my thigh, and then to the middle.

—You’re wet again —she said, laughing softly.

—I haven’t stopped since last night —I admitted.

—Shower? —I asked after that, already breathing faster from what she was doing to me with her fingers under the sheet.

—Is there room for two?

—Barely —I admitted—. But we’ll manage.

Under the water we laughed more than anything else at first, solving the spatial puzzle of the bathroom with more clumsiness than grace. But when the hot water wrapped around both of us and she rested her lips on my shoulder, the humor settled into something more serious. She turned me with my back to her and squeezed my tits from behind with both hands, pinching my nipples at the same time while biting my neck. I braced my hands on the tiles and arched my ass back, looking for her.

One of her hands slid down my belly to my cunt and opened me with her fingers. She started rubbing my clit while the water fell over us, and with her other hand she slipped two fingers into me from behind. I screamed and pressed myself against the tiles, legs apart and hips moving against her hand.

—Fuck me faster —I begged, not recognizing my own voice.

She obeyed, and fucked me with her fingers until I came again against her hand, my forehead pressed to the cold tile and my legs barely holding me up. Then I turned around and knelt under the water. I spread her legs and ate her pussy right there, with her gripping the shower curtain rod so she wouldn’t fall, moaning my name under the stream of hot water until she came again all over my face.

Afterward, while we dried off, I was direct.

—I want this not to change what we are —I said—. I don’t need it to be anything more than what it was.

She looked at me for a moment before answering.

—Neither do I —she said—. And that seems perfect to me.

She got dressed unhurriedly, took her bag, and before leaving she gave me a brief kiss on the mouth that left no room for ambiguity. I walked her to the door and watched her go down the stairs without looking back.

I closed the door, went back to the sofa, and sat in the same spot where the night before we had eaten pizza and started something that had no name and didn’t need one.

For the first time in a long time, the apartment didn’t seem silent to me. It seemed like mine.