My Office Coworker Had Never Kissed a Woman

My name is Lucía, and this is the first story I’ve ever written, so forgive me in advance if I go on a bit too long. From the age of eighteen, I decided to stop pretending and accept what I had always been. Quite a few women have passed through my bed over the years, but today I want to tell you about the only one I truly fell in love with, and for whom at one point I was willing to leave everything behind.

I met Elena at the office. She was brunette, with hair halfway down her back and a few extra pounds that suited her wonderfully, exactly the way I like them. She was thirty-six, with a deep voice that kept turning over in my head, and that habit of stopping mid-sentence to look at the ceiling when she was searching for the exact word. She was the kind of woman who walks into a room and, without even meaning to, gets three people to stop talking at once.

From the first day, we had a chemistry I had never felt with anyone else. We started by sharing morning coffee and ended up waiting for lunchtime just so we could sit facing each other. We talked about anything and everything: politics, books, the latest elections, the gossip from the floor above, how bad the cafeteria smelled on Wednesdays. We never ran out of things to say.

As the weeks went by, my feelings for her settled into a place from which there was no way to get them out. Every payday, when I got paid, I bought her a box of chocolates or a rose from the stand at the subway corner. At first she looked at me as if she didn’t understand a thing. Then she started smiling when she saw me arrive with the gift hidden behind my back, and she would keep them on her desk as if they were a secret the two of us shared.

One Friday I suggested we use our lunch break to head over to the shopping center two blocks away. I needed new underwear. Between the long shift and my laziness, the laundry basket had beaten me that week.

—I’ll go with you —she said without hesitation—. I’m curious to see what you pick.

In the store we were helped by a young girl, almost my age, who smiled at us with that rehearsed courtesy salespeople have. She led us to the lingerie section and discreetly stepped away. I planted myself in front of a rack and asked Elena to help me choose something pretty, not quite sure whether I meant the clothes or watching her sort through the pieces.

I found a black thong with lace details right away, exactly my size. For someone with my body, finding something I like and that fits is not easy; I’m selective, and I’d rather take home one single piece I fall in love with than a pile of halfway-there things. When I turned to show it to her, Elena was coming back with two other styles in her hands, holding them against her chest as if she were measuring them.

—These would look good on you too —she said, and then, without lifting her gaze—. You’d look very sexy.

You’d look very sexy. I repeated those words in my head three times while I paid at the register, and already I could feel the wetness sticking my old panties to my pussy.

On the way back to work I brushed the back of her hand with my fingers, slowly, as if measuring her. She didn’t pull away. On the contrary: I saw the hairs on her forearm rise and her mouth part slightly, without saying a word. I asked if we could walk back hand in hand to the building entrance. She nodded. She was nervous; I could tell from how tightly she was holding my fingers, but she didn’t let go until we crossed the door.

That afternoon felt strange. I, who during work hours tend to shut myself off from the world, couldn’t concentrate on anything. I kept passing by her office on one excuse or another and finding her looking at me through the glass. She, who was usually the opposite, left her door half open three times and smiled at me each time. No words were needed.

When we left, I suggested we go get burgers. It had been a long shift and I was hungry in a way a sandwich couldn’t fix.

—Of course, my love —she replied.

My love. In all the months we’d been talking, she had never called me that. She said it with the naturalness of someone who had been thinking it for a long time.

***

We ordered a taxi so we wouldn’t waste any more time. She sat pressed against me in the back seat, much closer than necessary. She smelled of a citrus perfume she had put on that morning and which was already fading.

—Lucía, can I ask you something? —she said quietly, looking out the window.

—Of course, whatever you want.

—You’re a lesbian, right?

I looked at her as if I’d been caught mid-sentence. We had talked about sex a hundred times, in the abstract, as jokes, telling other people’s stories, but she had never asked about me. I swallowed.

—Yes. Always have been. I’ve never been with a man. A cock has never been inside me, and I’ve never needed one.

She leaned in a little more, until her breath brushed my earlobe.

—Why don’t we go to your place and talk about it calmly?

I asked the driver to change the destination. I gave him my street in a whisper because my throat was dry and my pussy was soaked.

***

We went upstairs in silence. When I closed the door, I didn’t even have time to look for the light switch. Elena shoved me against the hallway wall, both hands on my hips, and kissed me like she had been thinking about that mouth for much longer than she was willing to admit. She shoved her tongue deep inside without asking, and I sucked on it while I dug my nails into her waist.

I kissed her back slowly at first and then with all the hunger I had been holding in. I put my hands on her ass, over her skirt, and pulled her against me. I squeezed hard, with all ten fingers, until I felt the firm flesh press flat against my palms. She let out a gasp into my mouth and hooked one leg between mine, grinding her pussy over my pants.

—You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off thinking about this —I told her against her neck, biting her earlobe—. How many times I’ve fingered myself thinking about your tits.

—Me too —she answered, hoarse—. In the shower, with the handle of a brush. Thinking about your mouth. I could tell by the way you looked at me. And in the end I started liking you. A lot.

—How much is a lot? —I asked, sliding my hand under her skirt.

—A lot. —She guided my hand to her panties, already clinging to her flesh from how wet she was—. This much.

I pulled the fabric aside with two fingers and brushed her pussy from top to bottom. She was so soaked my fingers slipped straight to her clit in one pass. She grabbed my shoulders, closed her eyes, and spread her legs wider against the wall. I slid one finger in, then two, and started fucking her like that, in the hallway, with the door barely shut. Her gasps bounced against the hallway wall.

—Not here —she murmured, grabbing my wrist without stopping her movement against my hand—. Take me to the bed. I want you to do everything to me.

I led her by feel to the bedroom, unbuttoning her shirt along the way without ever letting go of her mouth. When I took off her blouse and lowered her bra, I found full, heavy breasts, with dark areolas and nipples already so hard they responded to the slightest touch. I bent down and licked them slowly, taking them into my mouth one by one, sucking with my tongue flat before closing my lips and tugging upward. She let out a deep, restrained sound, as if she were still deciding whether to give herself permission.

—Suck them —she finally asked, grabbing the back of my neck and burying my face between her tits—. Suck them hard, don’t hold back.

I bit them, licked them with my tongue, pinched one nipple with my fingers while I swallowed the other whole. I left her skin red from my beard pressed tight against her tits. She writhed, slipped her hand inside my pants, touched me over my panties with two fingers that already knew where they were going.

We finished undressing each other in laughter and haste. Elena had a body that made you want to bite every inch of it: wide hips, thick thighs, a soft belly that trembled when she breathed, and a swollen, glistening pussy, with the hair trimmed but not fully shaved. I settled her on the bed, spread her legs without apologizing, and ran my tongue between her thighs like I had been imagining for months.

I started on the inside of her thigh, moving slowly upward, leaving a trail of bites up to her groin. When I reached her lips, I kissed them as if they were another mouth, moving unhurriedly. I opened her pussy with two fingers and dragged my tongue from bottom to top in one long stroke, all the way to her clit. The taste hit me full force: acidic, thick, female. She clutched the sheets, lifted her hips, and let me open her at my own pace.

—Fuck —she gasped—. Fuck, fuck, how do you do that.

I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue, going slowly, and then I took it into my mouth and sucked it with my lips closed. She jerked her hips upward, almost involuntarily. I held her ass with both hands and pinned her against my face. Her feet ended up resting on my shoulders. Every time she squeezed her thighs against my ears I heard her muffled gasps, and I kept going, unhurried, feeling her legs tremble.

I slid a finger in while I kept sucking her clit. Then two. I curved my fingers upward, searching for that rough little spot that had worked for me so many times, and when I found it she let out a rough cry she couldn’t hold back.

—There, there, there —she repeated—. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.

I didn’t stop. I pumped my fingers in and out at a steady rhythm while I ate her pussy like it was the last thing I would ever do in my life. I licked from the opening to the clit several times in a row, without restraint, and she shook so hard she almost threw me off the bed. I held her hips with both hands when she lost control, and I let her come slowly, soaking my chin, while I kissed the inside of her thigh and whispered that I had her exactly where I wanted her.

—You’re still cumming —I said, and licked her again to draw out another shiver—. Look at yourself. Look at how you are.

—Wait, wait —she panted, her hand on my forehead—. Give me a second.

I slowly worked my way up her stomach, bit her hip, ran my tongue under her breasts. When I got to her mouth, she kissed me tasting herself without any reservations, sucking on my lips and my wet chin, and that finished setting me on fire. I got off the bed, opened the bottom drawer, and took out the harness with the black silicone cock I only used with someone I truly wanted. She stared at me wide-eyed, not scared.

—Do you want it? —I asked, adjusting the straps around my hips.

She nodded, biting her lip, and reached out to touch my strap-on as if it weighed something.

—Suck it first —I said, and surprised myself by saying it.

She didn’t hesitate. She knelt at the edge of the bed, took my cock in her hand, and put it in her mouth without taking her eyes off me. She sucked it all the way down, deep, until she gagged a little and came back up with a strand of saliva. I grabbed her hair with both hands and set the rhythm, pushing her head against my hips, watching her swallow it whole. I knew the base was bumping my clit with every thrust, and it was driving me crazy.

—Good, just like that —I told her, pulling her hair—. You suck cock so well, fuck. You’re going to make me come just from seeing you.

When I was close, I pulled her away. I put her face down, lifted her hips with a pillow, and spread her ass with both hands. Her pussy was visible, shiny, open, waiting. I entered slowly, attentive to every one of her sounds, pushing centimeter by centimeter until I saw her clamp the sheet between her teeth. By the third thrust she already had her face in the sheets and her back arched like a cat.

—Fuck me —she begged, her voice half smothered against the mattress—. Fuck me harder, don’t hold back with me.

I started really fucking her. I gripped her hips with both hands and drove the cock in all the way, with long thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before shoving it back in hard. The sound of my hips against her ass filled the room. I slapped her right cheek, my fingers left a mark, and she let out such a broken moan I had to bite my lip so I wouldn’t come first.

—Again —she panted—. Hit me again.

I gave her two more slaps in a row, one on each cheek, and kept fucking her without slowing down. I guided her, measuring the rhythm, changing the angle when I felt she was going to lose it too soon. It was gorgeous the way she moved under me. She wasn’t afraid. Every time I stopped to breathe, she pushed back with her hips for me to keep going. I slid one hand under her belly and found her clit. When I started rubbing it in circles while still pounding her from behind, she began to clench around the cock in spasms she couldn’t hold in.

—I’m coming, I’m coming again —she warned, and buried her face in the pillow to muffle the cry.

She came with my cock buried all the way inside her, trembling from head to toe, soaking the harness and my thighs. When she finished for the second time, I collapsed onto her back, sweating, and kissed the nape of her neck. I slipped out of her slowly and she complained at the emptiness. She was dripping between her legs.

***

After that I took off the harness and lay on my back, my legs still weak and my pussy begging for it. She sat up, still breathless, and looked down at me with a smile that was pure mischief.

—Now it’s my turn.

—Come here —I said, tugging her arm—. Sit on my face. I want to feel you on top of me.

She laughed, half nervous, half horny, and climbed across the bed until she straddled my head. I grabbed her thighs and pulled her down until her pussy was pressed against my mouth. I started licking her again, now from below, with her controlling the angle, rubbing herself slowly against my tongue. From down there I looked up at her breasts hanging heavy, her stomach, her face with her eyes half-closed, and it seemed like the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.

While I was eating her, she leaned forward and ran her hand over my pussy. She opened me with two fingers, curious, almost shy at first.

—I’ve never done this to anyone —she murmured—. Tell me what you like.

—With your tongue —I told her against her pussy—. Start with your tongue, slowly. Then we’ll see.

She turned herself around in the bed and got into sixty-nine. I brought my hips up to her face and she gave herself over with a mix of inexperience and enthusiasm that melted me. She didn’t know exactly what to do at first, but she learned with every sound I made. When I signaled with my hand for her to go higher, she went higher. When I told her, “slower,” she lowered the pace and stayed exactly where she needed to be. She started sucking my clit with her lips, imitating what I had done to her, and carefully slipped a finger inside me, waiting for me to tell her whether more or less.

—More —I asked, gripping her ass—. Put them all the way in. You’re not going to break me.

She put two in, then three, and started working them in and out while sucking my clit like she’d been doing it for years. I kept eating her pussy from below, with my tongue, with my fingers, with everything. I ended up shaking, clutching her hair, pressing her face against my pussy without meaning to, not understanding where she had gotten that mouth from. No one had ever made me feel this good in a long time. I soaked her chin the way she had soaked mine, and stayed there panting, with my thighs closing around her ears.

She turned around, climbed onto my chest, played with my nipples, licked them calmly. Then she went back down, kissed my groin slowly, and ran her tongue over me one more time, soft as a goodbye. We stayed like that for a long time, her on top of me, my fingertips tracing her back, neither of us speaking.

—Two days ago I left my husband —she said suddenly, against my collarbone—. I found some messages with a girl from the gym. He’d been with her for months.

—I’m sorry.

—Don’t be sorry. It had been a long time since I felt good with him. He didn’t even touch me. —She paused for a long time, and then, without lifting her head—. I always knew he was bisexual, but it had never gone beyond kissing some friend at a party. This is my first real time with a woman.

My throat tightened a little. Not out of pride, but because of the responsibility of what had just happened.

—And how do you feel?

—Like I haven’t breathed properly in years —she said, and laughed softly against my skin—. And like I have to make up for everything I didn’t do.

—We’ll have time —I answered, and ran my hand through her hair.

We tucked ourselves in. I turned off the bedside lamp. She settled against my side, slipped one leg over mine, and fell asleep before I could say anything else.

That was the first of many nights by her side, and the only time in my life when I thought, while listening to her breathe, that this really could last forever.