The Blonde in the Bathroom and My First Night with a Woman

My name is Candela, though ever since school everyone calls me Cande. I’m tall, with brown skin and dark hair that curls a little at the ends. I have honey-colored eyes, but if anyone asked me what people notice most about me, I’d know the answer without hesitation: my mouth. One night, long ago, my husband confessed to me that the first thing he noticed when he met me were my lips, and that he spent the whole evening imagining things I won’t repeat here. Men, always thinking about the same thing.

The problem is they get tired quickly too. At least Damián does. We’ve been married for almost three years now, and I can’t remember the last time I had an orgasm with him. I think he still loves me, in his own way, but I’ve fallen to the very bottom of his list of priorities. In bed, he’s completely neglected me.

What we had became mechanical, rushed, joyless. I know part of that is habit; sleeping every night with the same person ends up smothering something. But what hurt me most wasn’t the routine, it was that he didn’t even try to break it. We made love only rarely and always in a hurry, like someone ticking a task off a list.

I told all this to Lorena, my best friend since university. She tried to cheer me up somehow: buy pretty lingerie, go to couples therapy with me, whatever came to mind. But Damián was immune to my underwear sets and flatly denied that we needed any help at all.

—Sweetheart, what you need to do is stop caring about him —Lorena told me—. Life is short. We’re young and we’re hot. If your husband doesn’t know how to value you, someone else will.

Deep down she was right, but I had never cheated on Damián and I didn’t feel like starting. Even though I know he has cheated on me. Those are the things a wife senses, no matter how well the other person hides it. I’m almost sure it happened a couple of times, just quick little indulgences with nothing serious behind them. It hurt, of course, but I decided to live with it as long as it didn’t go any further.

The months went by and my marriage stayed just as dead. I was bored, tired of myself. So when Lorena suggested going out on a Saturday night, I said yes. I didn’t make up any story for Damián: I told him I was going out with friends for drinks. He didn’t even flinch.

***

That afternoon I got myself ready with real enthusiasm. I chose a black lace set that suited me very well and a short dress to show off my legs. I did my eyes, added a little color to my cheeks, and finished with a pink gloss on my lips. When Lorena saw me, she let out an exclamation and teased me.

—Are you trying to steal all the handsome guys in the city from me?

The place we went to was an elegant pub, not very big, with a small dance floor next to the bar, dim lights, and music at a volume that still let people talk. I liked it right away. The clientele looked good, polished people, the kind you can tell have money.

We sat at a table slightly apart and Lorena didn’t even take two minutes to start inspecting the guys. She’s single by choice; she has more admirers than she knows what to do with. She says she’ll settle down when she runs out of desire for parties, and seeing how marriage is treating me, I’m starting to think she’s the smarter of the two of us.

—Cande, I’m going to dance —she said, getting to her feet with a nervous smile—. That big guy in the blue shirt looks promising. Mind if I leave you alone for a bit?

—Of course not. Have fun.

I amused myself watching her move on the dance floor, seeing how the men surrounded her like seagulls over water. She pretended not to pay them any attention, but really she was calmly choosing among all her options.

After a while I got up to go to the bathroom. Inside, there was only one woman doing her makeup in front of the mirror. She looked about forty, though she wore it beautifully. Her hair was very short and blonde, slicked back with gel so it looked wet and gave her a slightly masculine air. But that was the only masculine thing about her: the rest of her body radiated femininity, slender, well-proportioned, sculpted by hours at the gym.

I went into one of the stalls while I noticed she was following me with her eyes through the mirror. I had just shut the door when, in two long strides, she came in behind me. With one hand she gently shoved me against the back wall and with the other she threw the bolt.

—What are you doing? —I protested.

She put a finger to my lips, ordering me to be quiet. She held both my wrists with a single hand and found my mouth. I turned my head instinctively and offered her my neck. She started kissing it slowly while I tried to wriggle free.

—Stop, please. I don’t want this.

Ignoring my protests, she stuck out her tongue and licked my neck. I shuddered, and a soft moan escaped me that only seemed to encourage her. She squeezed my wrists harder and slipped her tongue into my ear. That really lit me up: my legs trembled for a second and my breathing caught.

—You like it, don’t you? —she murmured, wetting my ear again.

—No… ahhh… yes… no. Stop!

Then she decided I was ready and began pursuing my mouth insistently. A game charged with tension began: I kept turning my face away whenever I felt her lips coming near, and she kept coming back, patient, knowing that the moment I yielded she would have broken down all my defenses.

I kept resisting, but with every second the heat grew inside me. Since the moment she licked my ear it had only been climbing. My head turns grew slower, clumsier, and she had already brushed my lips with hers a couple of times. And then I turned my head the other way, not to escape, but to go toward her. I don’t know whether I did it on purpose or whether desire betrayed me. As soon as she had me facing her, she gave me a deep, wet kiss that finished off the little resistance I had left.

***

I loosened my hands and gave up the useless attempt to free myself. She took advantage of that to slip her tongue between my lips and, a few seconds later, I opened my mouth and let her in. I was trembling with arousal. Without stopping kissing me with a skill that left me undone, she freed my wrists: one hand rose to my breasts and the other slid to the hem of my dress and began to caress me over my panties.

That woman was making me enjoy myself like I hadn’t in ages. I’d gone far too long without real sex, yes, but it was also obvious that she knew exactly what she was doing: where to touch, when to press, how to turn a kiss into something much bigger. I was breathing uncontrollably, my body was burning, and all I wanted was for it not to end.

Then she took her hand away from my crotch, brought it in front of my mouth, and extended two fingers.

—Suck them —she ordered.

I obeyed at once. I took them into my mouth and sucked eagerly on them, wetting them completely while she watched me with an intensity that stripped me naked from the inside. When she felt it was enough, she pulled her fingers back, moved aside the fabric of my panties, and shoved them into me at once. A moan escaped me, and she smothered it with her other hand before returning to my breasts, squeezing them and pinching my nipples.

That, added to the expert movement of her fingers, pushed me to the edge almost immediately. I was ready, and she knew it: she watched me without blinking, waiting for the moment like someone about to collect a well-earned prize. I didn’t take long to explode. I closed my eyes, bit my lip, and came in a deep, long orgasm, the kind I hadn’t had in years.

The woman smiled. She kissed me with unexpected tenderness and whispered in my ear:

—I come here on Fridays and Saturdays.

And, leaving the invitation hanging in the air, she slid back the bolt and disappeared into the room.

***

I went back to the table as soon as I could walk. I downed my drink in one swallow while searching for Lorena with my eyes. She was still on the dance floor, and she had already chosen. Two, in fact. She was dancing between them, one behind her and the other in front, the three of them pressed close together, and the curious thing was that no one around her seemed to notice, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. When she saw me, she broke away and came over.

—Where did you disappear to?

—To the bathroom —I said, and felt my cheeks burning.

—I’m sorry you’re not having a good time, Cande. Look, I’m going to a hotel with those two. Do you mind?

—Not at all. I’ll get a taxi and head home. Have fun.

We said a hurried goodbye out on the street, her with her urgency and me with my taxi just arriving. There would be time later to tell her what had happened. Or maybe I wouldn’t tell her anything.

On the way home I couldn’t stop thinking about that stranger and how she had made me feel. I had never been with another woman, it had never even crossed my mind, and yet that experience had opened a door to a world I hadn’t even known existed.

What surprised me most was not feeling guilty. Maybe because it hadn’t been with another man, but however I looked at it, it was still infidelity. And yet I felt at peace. I hadn’t done it out of revenge or spite. It had simply happened, and I had enjoyed it. For the first time in a long while I felt that I was the one holding the reins of my own life.

***

The following week felt endless. I was determined to go back to the pub in the hope of running into her. I was dying to let myself go again, and every night I shivered remembering her kisses, her caresses, her fingers inside me.

I didn’t tell Lorena anything. I could have; I know she would have applauded and encouraged me to do it again, but something told me that what had happened was so much mine that I should keep it to myself alone. So on Friday I went by myself. I told Damián again that I was going out with friends and, as always, he didn’t care. I even thought maybe he would take the chance to indulge himself again, and the idea didn’t bother me. If I defended my right to be happy, I couldn’t deny it to him.

I took the same table as the previous Saturday. I searched the whole room for her, but she wasn’t there. I had to get rid of a couple of guys who wanted to buy me a drink, dance with me, or both. Deep down they were asking permission to sleep with me, and we both knew it. But I didn’t need a man that night. I needed that haughty, elegant blonde with her impossibly skillful hands.

Half an hour later, just when I was starting to lose hope, I saw her come in. She was accompanied by a mature man with the air of someone with money who didn’t bother hiding it: he was wearing a suit, something that stood out in that setting. They sat a few tables away from mine. Her huge blue eyes swept across the room until they found me, she smiled, said something to her companion, and came over to my side.

—Good evening. I see you came back.

—Hi. I felt like having a drink —I lied. I didn’t want to show my cards too soon.

—My name is Vanesa —she said, and held out her hand.

—Cande.

The name suited her perfectly, I thought, with that edge of strength and mystery she had. Though I suspected it wasn’t her real name, just as Cande wasn’t entirely my real one either.

—Can I buy you a drink? —I asked.

—Of course.

We started chatting about unimportant things, and Vanesa slowly moved closer. She didn’t hide her intentions, she simply unfolded them with elegance, self-assured. When she was pressed against me, brushing my leg with hers, she took a long drink and invited me to do the same. While I was drinking, I felt her hand on my thigh. The shock made a drop slide from my lip to my chin, and she leaned in and caught it with her tongue, while her hand kept moving upward until it reached its destination.

I got nervous, looking around in case anyone was watching us. But then I remembered Lorena dancing and how no one had paid attention to her. Aside from the odd lone hunter who came up to women alone, everyone else was minding their own business.

I stopped worrying completely when Vanesa slipped a finger beneath my panties. I closed my eyes, and at that moment everything else ceased to exist. Her skill at finding exactly the spot that made me lose my mind did the rest, and I came silently, clenching my fists under the table.

—Have you been with a woman? —she asked.

—No.

—Would you like to?

I answered with a yes that came straight from my soul. I was so turned on I was burning to sleep with her, away from prying eyes, the two of us alone so we could explore each other shamelessly.

—But let’s go to a hotel —she suggested—. The bathroom has its appeal, but it falls short, don’t you think?

I nodded. Before leaving, she went over to her companion and said something; the man nodded. We didn’t have far to walk to find a hotel. It was an expensive place, and Vanesa, anticipating any hesitation on my part, asked for the room with an authority that admitted no doubt.

—I’ll pay. You’re my guest.

***

The room was beautiful, with a huge bed. She dimmed the lights, took my hand, and led me into the bathroom.

—Undress —she ordered.

As the shower water began to run, she took her clothes off too. Under the dress she was wearing a black slip that accentuated her figure. Standing there, taking off her earrings, she seemed to me a truly beautiful woman. We stepped under the water and she turned me to face the wall. She started by soaping my back, but her hands soon gripped my breasts. She bit my neck hard and only made me shudder. Then her hand went down and she started fingering me again, in and out, searching for my clit, until she tore another orgasm from me. I turned around and kissed her passionately. I wanted to return the favor, but she stopped me.

—I want you to do it to me in bed. I want that mouth of yours that’s driven me crazy since I saw you.

Soaked, we went to the bed. Vanesa lay down with her legs open and I didn’t hesitate to bury my face between her thighs. I had never done it before, but I discovered my body knew what to do without anyone teaching it. I kissed her, licked her, and I knew I was doing it right because she wouldn’t stop moaning and writhing, urging me on.

—Like that, yes, don’t stop.

I stuck out my tongue and worked her, up and down, in circles, sucking her clit without pause. Vanesa arched her back, grabbed my hair hard, and came against my mouth, holding me there while her body shook in little spasms. Watching her fall apart under me excited me as much as my own orgasms.

***

We stayed silent for a while, recovering. Then she got up, came back with a handkerchief, and blindfolded me. When I looked at her in surprise, she put a finger to my lips and stroked them.

—You have a mouth made for sin, Cande.

She laid me on my back. I heard her walk away a couple of steps and the room fell completely silent. A little later I heard footsteps approaching and someone climbing onto the bed. I got nervous, but I didn’t dare speak. I thought Vanesa would come back to me with the added thrill of the blindfold, and my surprise was enormous when I felt the glans of a man at the entrance to my sex. I tried to take the blindfold off, but firm hands stopped me: it was her, holding me just as she had in the pub bathroom, letting that stranger take possession of me.

And he did it without hurry. I felt him enter me with astonishing ease, slowly, measuring the effect of every thrust. Much to my dismay, I began to get aroused again. He sped up little by little, going deeper and deeper, until the rhythm became frantic and I felt the orgasm rising from the very bottom of me, arching my whole body with a moan. I had just come when he finished inside me.

Vanesa let go of my hands and kissed me with a nervous, excited tongue. It was obvious she had enjoyed watching. I took off the blindfold and discovered that the man was her companion from the pub, that elegant middle-aged one.

—You’re incredible —he told me.

I was about to object, but Vanesa silenced me.

—Should I have asked your permission? Like in the bathroom the other night? You enjoyed it, don’t deny it.

She was right. I had enjoyed it, and I couldn’t find any reason to complain. I had come three times in a single night, something that hadn’t happened to me in years. Vanesa had shown me a new world, the pleasure between women, and that thrill was still burning inside me. I walked out of there without guilt, with the certainty that my life, at last, was mine again.