The Esthetician I Ran Into Again at the Sex Shop

That afternoon I’d gone into the downtown sex shop looking for some lingerie and a couple of new toys to surprise Diego. It was a huge store, the kind almost nobody goes to anymore because everything gets bought online, but I liked wandering among the shelves, touching things, deciding calmly. I’d half-filled my basket when I looked up and recognized her at once.

It was Noelia.

I hadn’t seen her in more than ten years. She had been the aesthetician who used to wax me at her salon, and let’s just say those sessions never ended with wax alone. Then she got a girlfriend, closed the place, and disappeared from my life with a simple goodbye. And there she was, in front of the dildo shelf, just as gorgeous as ever.

—I can’t believe it —she said, laughing that laugh of hers I remembered far too well.

We started talking as if time hadn’t passed. I told her I was trying out new things, that I wanted to renew my collection. She confessed she was doing the same, that it had been ages since she’d bought anything.

We started browsing the XXL section together. I picked one twenty-five centimeters long, because I’ve always liked them big, and her eyes went wide.

—Seriously, that fits in you? —she asked, half amused, half curious.

—I’ve got much bigger ones at home —I told her, lowering my voice a little.

I took out my phone and showed her a couple of photos from my gallery, only of the toys, showing off my collection. But as I scrolled through the images, I accidentally let one slip by where you could see not only the dildo, but the dildo inside me. Noelia went silent for a second and then said:

—Who gets to be your husband.

—You already knew that in person —I replied.

We both laughed, but there was something in the air, that old current that had never fully died. Before we said goodbye we exchanged numbers. Neither of us said anything else, but we both knew what it meant.

***

A few days passed and, when I had almost forgotten about it, her message arrived. She wanted to see the toys for real. I told her to come that same afternoon: Diego was at work, my daughter was staying with her grandmother, and I had the house to myself. Before she arrived I got waxed carefully, just in case. Let’s call it intuition.

She showed up on time. I made coffee and we sat down to catch up. We talked about the kids, about our partners, about how tired one gets of routine and the other of work. Little by little the conversation drifted, as if it had a life of its own, until it landed on those afternoons at her old beauty center.

—We had fun —she said, looking at me over the rim of her cup.

—Too much fun —I answered.

The atmosphere heated up fast. I told her how many toys I’d accumulated over all those years and she insisted on seeing them. We went to the bedroom and I brought them all out: more than ten, of every kind. Vibrators, stimulators, balls, dildos of every shape and size. Noelia’s eyes were shining.

Two of them caught her attention especially. One black, very realistic, which I’d bought precisely because it reminded me of a real cock. And another white one, thirty centimeters long, smooth, not too thick, with a feel that would drive anyone crazy.

—I wish I could try one —she said, half joking, weighing it in her hand.

—Then try it —I said, very seriously.

She acted shy, said no, how embarrassing. But I insisted. I reminded her that between us there had never been any need to pretend. I went to get a condom and lubricant, and then she stopped me with her hand.

—No need —she murmured—. I’m allergic to latex. And I don’t need lubricant either. I’m more than ready.

She picked up the black dildo, stuck out her tongue, and ran it from top to bottom with deliberate slowness, never taking her eyes off me. It took my breath away. Knowing that this same toy was the one I used almost every day and seeing her now taking it around in her mouth turned me on instantly.

She took the whole thing into her mouth in one go, without hesitating. I was stunned. She had to be as aroused as I was.

—Let yourself go —I told her, sitting on the edge of the bed—. Don’t hold back.

She started moving it slowly, and with her other hand she caressed her clit, her breasts. I had always liked her breasts, a little bigger than mine, with small hard nipples. She looked at me with a face of desire I had rarely seen on anyone.

I couldn’t keep still. Still wearing my thong, I started touching myself through the fabric, completely soaked.

—Don’t leave me alone —she said between gasps—. Put the white one in.

I took the thirty-centimeter one, the soft one, and slid it into myself without further ado. I didn’t need lubricant either. Noelia’s mouth fell open in disbelief, watching it disappear inside me.

—I don’t know how that fits in you —she whispered.

We were both on the sofa in the living room, facing each other, each with our own toy, watching one another. I could think of only one thing: throwing myself on her. The urge to eat her cunt was unbearable.

We started talking between gasps, saying dirty things to each other, fantasizing that if only it were a real cock, someone’s cock who’d fuck us both at once. The more we talked, the hotter it got.

—I can’t take it anymore —I said at last.

I pulled out the dildo, hurled myself on her, and ate her mouth. Noelia kissed me back desperately.

—You have no idea how badly I wanted you to do that —she panted against my lips.

***

I went down her neck, over her breasts, biting her nipples softly while she arched her back. I kept going down until I opened her legs. I started eating her cunt and fucking her with the black dildo at the same time, setting a slow rhythm that made her writhe.

—Don’t stop —she begged, grabbing my hair—. Harder. I want to come in your mouth.

It didn’t take long. She came with a tremor that ran through her whole body, and I drank every drop as if I’d been waiting years for it. But it still wasn’t enough. I pulled out the toy, slid three fingers into her, and licked her again, feeling her tighten around me. I love feeling a good cunt close around my fingers. She came again, this time all the way, and I moaned almost as much as she did.

—Now it’s my turn —I told her, lying back—. Put it in me. And don’t clean it off.

She smiled with a look that was pure promise. She took the black dildo, still wet, and started pushing it all the way into me. I was so turned on I barely felt any resistance. While she fucked me with the toy, she lowered her head and licked my clit in that way only another woman knows how, that exact way that takes you straight to heaven.

—Say things to me —I begged—. Tell me everything.

And she did. She told me how much I liked them big, what a dirty girl I was, that she was going to sit on my face so I’d swallow all of her. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I came with a scream that was probably heard all the way out in the street, with her tongue still buried in my clit.

—Let’s do sixty-nine —she suggested, licking her lips—. I want to eat you until you come two more times.

We got into position, me underneath, feeling the weight of her breasts against mine. I managed to get four fingers into her, she was so stretched, while she devoured me without mercy. We stayed like that for a long while, losing count of how many times we got right to the edge and fell back again.

In the middle of the frenzy, one phrase slipped out of her, something she later refused to repeat. Something about how she’d give anything to feel my husband in that same position. I didn’t answer, I kept my mouth between her legs, but inside I burned even hotter.

***

When we were both down to our last bit of strength, I suggested we do scissors. I wanted to feel her cunt against mine, with nothing in between. But then I thought of something better: I had a double-ended dildo lying around. We put it between us, one end in each of us, and started moving.

The toy was barely visible, we were so pressed together. We rubbed against each other, clits meeting with every thrust, and I swear no cock in the world gives you that sensation, neither flesh nor plastic. It was something else. It was skin, it was trust, it was everything we’d gone ten years without saying to each other.

We were going to keep going, we could have spent the whole afternoon there, but she looked at the clock and cursed under her breath: she had to go pick up the boy. We dressed in a hurry, laughing like two teenagers who’d just pulled off a prank.

—This isn’t over —she said at the door, fixing her hair.

—Of course not —I replied—. Next time at your place. I want to see your toys.

She gave me one last kiss, long, one of those that leaves you wanting more, and left. But that’s another story.