The Girl at the Concert Asked to Smell My Perfume

The plan started as a silly idea: go see a rock band play in a warehouse on the other side of the river, with my friend Mara keeping me company while I tried to hold my nerves together. While we were waiting for the bus at the stop, we realized the group of guys standing behind us was headed to the same place. I worked up the nerve to talk to them without too much shyness, and they turned out to be so nice that we ended up going in together so we wouldn’t have to enter the venue alone.

There were six of them. Iván was there with his girlfriend Renata; there was Bruno, Tomás, Sofía, and her boyfriend Nico. We made jokes the whole ride, and by the time we got off at the last stop, Mara and I already felt comfortable with them.

Inside the warehouse we settled near the bathrooms, because Mara always goes to the bathroom four times during a show. The view of the stage was good anyway. A support band was playing and they were better than expected, so I stayed dancing while Mara went off to get drinks. The guys came over to where I was standing. When Mara came back with the drinks, Renata came up to me to share the cup.

I’d glanced at her on the bus, but only then could I really look at her properly. She was almost my height, slim, with straight dark hair cut to her jaw and very light gray eyes framed by thick black eyeliner. Her lips were painted a matte red that seemed made on purpose to keep someone staring at them. She was wearing a torn The Strokes T-shirt that showed the black bra underneath, tiny shorts, fishnet stockings, and knee-high boots. She looked gorgeous.

Don’t tell them you’re bisexual. Not yet. You don’t know them.

The show was about to start when Mara grabbed my arm.

—Come with me to the bathroom before they kick off.

—Sure, let’s go. I’ll take the chance to buy another round so we don’t end up dry.

A hand grabbed my wrist from behind. It was Renata.

—I’m coming with you.

I held her hand tight. The warehouse was already far too crowded to move around separately; either we held on to each other’s hands or one of us would get lost. When we reached the bathroom area, the line was ridiculously long. I told Mara to stay and queue up while I went to get the drinks.

—Awesome! —she answered, giving me a thumbs-up.

Renata joined me in the other line. And that was where it all started.

—What perfume are you wearing? —she asked, tilting her head a little.

—One my mom gave me for my birthday. I think it’s called Black Opium or something like that.

—You smell really good. If I could, I’d smell you up close.

—You can.

I leaned my neck toward her without really thinking about it. When she leaned in and I felt her nose almost brushing the skin under my ear, every hair on my body stood up. A current ran down my back and lodged itself somewhere much lower. I didn’t know if it was my body asking for something or the situation itself, but I understood right away that I wanted to kiss her. The sexual tension hung between us like a live wire.

We got the drinks. We went back to where Mara was. The line had moved only a little. Luckily the show still hadn’t started. When Mara went into the bathroom, we took the chance and went in too. With the cups in one hand and the crowd pressing in from every side, I had no choice but to hold on to Mara’s T-shirt, and Renata held on to mine. As we fought our way back to our spot, I felt a hand squeeze my ass. I thought it was Renata. I wasn’t sure. We were in a hurry and the crowd gave no room to turn around. I kept walking.

As soon as we got back to our area, the main band came onstage. Mara and I sang every song, took photos, cried a little during the second ballad, and hugged. When the show ended, the guys suggested we all go eat pizza together.

***

At the pizzeria, Renata sat next to me. While we ordered, her leg started brushing against mine under the table. The first time, I jumped.

—Sorry! Did I step on you? —she said, pretending innocence.

But she hadn’t stepped on me. It was the deliberate touch of her calf against my ankle. A few minutes later she did it again. Then her arm slid under the table under the excuse of adjusting her fishnets, and her palm brushed my right leg with a softness that was anything but accidental. I kept talking with the others without moving a muscle in my face.

When we finished, the guys paid the whole bill. Mara pulled me aside on the way to the door.

—Girl, if there’s chemistry, I’m going off with Bruno. You okay with that?

—Yeah, go for it. Take advantage. If anything, text me.

Renata was a meter away and heard everything. Almost immediately, a message arrived on my phone.

Do you like women?

I took a while to answer. I only sent her a “yes,” no punctuation, and put my phone away.

Mara got into the car with Bruno, and before closing the door I pointed a finger at him in warning. I’m watching you, I told him. They both laughed. I ordered my own ride. Renata came over.

—Would you share the car with us? We live nearby.

Iván smiled from the side. I said yes.

***

The driver was nice. He talked football with Iván the whole way; they argued about teams like two old supporters who knew each other well. Renata and I were sitting in the back seat. At some point during the conversation, she slid her hand over mine and intertwined our fingers without him noticing. Another message came in.

Do you want to come home with me?

I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. My throat was dry and my heart was pulling in two directions at once.

Iván got out first, in front of a low building. Renata got out with him, hugged him, and gave him a long, deep kiss, the kind of kiss people in a relationship who’ve known each other for years give each other. I watched from inside the car with a kind of envy I couldn’t even name. She got back in. Closed the door. The driver started up again.

When we got to her building, she asked me:

—Are you getting out?

I hesitated for three seconds. I paid for the ride. I got out.

***

—Check if the doorman’s there —she told me while she looked for the key.

I pushed the inner door. The doorman was asleep in his booth. I pressed six. Renata closed the glass door with a code and we went up in silence. Inside the elevator she took my hand again and smiled at me. My nerves were climbing up my legs. She had a boyfriend. Iván had seemed nice to me. Something about the whole business of guilt was settling itself into my chest.

Before opening the apartment door, she put a finger to her lips.

—No noise. My brother’s sleeping in the dining room; his girlfriend threw him out a few days ago.

We tiptoed inside. We passed a lump covered with a blanket on the living-room sofa. We went into her room and she closed the door softly. She took out two cold beers and a bag of chips from the drawer.

We talked for a while. About the band, the concert, Iván. The tension was still there, suspended between the two of us, waiting for one of us to decide to touch it.

—So you like women.

—Yeah. I had my first experience with a friend a while back.

I worked up the nerve to touch her hand.

—And you?

—I’ve always liked them. And I think you’re really pretty. I’ve wanted to eat you up since I smelled your perfume.

She leaned in and kissed me. The kiss was so slow, so exact, that there was no way not to follow it. We kissed for a long while until I pulled back and looked at her.

—And your boyfriend?

—Iván doesn’t matter right now. I like you. And we’re in an open relationship. This is something we’ve talked about plenty.

I stayed quiet. She took advantage of the silence and kissed me again, this time hungrier. The rush of desire through my body made me climb on top of her without thinking. We kept kissing like that for a while longer, feeling the heat through our clothes.

—Do you want to shower? —she asked.

—Yes.

***

In the bathroom she took all her clothes off first. I had imagined her dressed, and the reality was even better: erect nipples, a waist narrower than it had seemed, a small old scar on her right hip. I moved closer and kissed her again, because there was no way not to. I undressed while she adjusted the shower water.

Inside, she was the one who started. She kissed my neck, my shoulders, the middle of my chest. She went down along my sternum until she knelt on the wet tiles. She began kissing my vulva with a calm that had nothing rushed about it. I was lucky I’d shaved two days earlier; she could see everything. When her tongue found my clit, a moan slipped out of me.

—Slowly —she murmured—. I don’t want to wake my brother.

She kept going. I was getting wetter and wetter, not just from the water. Her fingers slid inside me and started moving with patient rhythm. I tried to touch her breasts, reach whatever I could. Suddenly she stood up, kissed me on the mouth, turned me against the tiles, and made me lean forward. Her fingers went back in from behind while her other hand grabbed my breast. What I was feeling was so intense that I knew I was going to come quickly. And I did, biting my lip so I wouldn’t scream.

***

We went back to the room with wet hair and towels wrapped around us. We lay down side by side. Everything started flowing again. The kisses grew more passionate, deeper, until she climbed on top of me. She kissed my neck, moved downward, found my breasts, and kneaded them with her mouth full. She left them wet, the nipples so hard they hurt a little.

I was trying to hold in my moans. My breathing kept escaping me anyway. Renata went down my stomach to my pelvis and legs, planting tiny kisses as if she were marking territory. When she reached my vulva again, she looked up at me.

—Got wet again, baby?

I nodded, unable to say a word. She started licking me from top to bottom, slowly, and my body couldn’t stop moving. Every lick tore a different tremor out of me. When she slipped her fingers in again and started moving them fast, I knew I wasn’t going to hold back. My moans spilled out loud and she had to cover my mouth with her free hand so we wouldn’t get caught. I came against her palm.

—You come on top —I said, my voice shredded.

She climbed up without hesitation. I kissed her vulva the way she had kissed mine, but more impatiently. Her clit was soaked. Hearing her moan over my face turned me on even more. Then she suddenly said:

—I’m going to turn over.

We ended up sixty-nine. I tried to keep kissing her, but what she was doing to me made it impossible to concentrate. She asked me something, I didn’t understand what. I answered in such a low voice that I don’t know whether she heard me, or whether my head answered for me.

***

She suddenly got up and opened a drawer in the wardrobe. She took out a harness with a blue rubber dildo. She left it on the bed. I picked it up and started sucking it to get it thoroughly wet.

—I’m going to fuck you —I told her.

I put it on, adjusting the straps around my hips. She lay back on the bed.

—Not like that. Turn around. Get on all fours.

She obeyed. She lowered her chest against the mattress and lifted her ass up. I wet the dildo with a little more saliva and started to penetrate her, slowly at first, measuring things out. The two of us moved together, finding a rhythm. Her moans got louder and louder. I could feel how wet she was every time I pushed into her. Within minutes her body started trembling under my hands, and I knew she was close. I went harder. She finished by arching her back and biting the pillow.

***

She left the room to get water. When she came back, we laughed: we’d soaked the whole sheet. She kissed me and lay down.

—You’re beautiful.

—So are you.

I stroked her hair. I told her I was tired and lay down on the left side of the bed. Renata spooned me from behind and kissed the nape of my neck. Feeling her naked body pressed against mine, her chest against my back, was enough to set everything inside me on fire again.

—You’re teasing me again. Stop.

—That’s what I want.

I turned over. Renata climbed on top, locking her legs with mine. I felt her vulva against mine, both of us so wet that the contact was electric. She started moving and I couldn’t help responding. Our clits rubbed with every sway. The moans came back right away. The rhythm grew more urgent, less careful. At some point I stopped thinking about her brother.

—Faster —she begged, her voice torn to pieces—. Don’t stop.

I didn’t stop. The pleasure was unlike anything else. We both came almost at the same time, holding each other, she screaming into my hair. If her brother didn’t hear us that night, it was because he was sleeping with earplugs in.

***

We fell asleep wrapped around each other, still sweaty. I woke up to the smell of coffee. Renata was in the kitchen, in a robe, making me a cup. We went into the dining room. Her brother had left for work; I never met him. I got ready, dressed, and went home with my bag over my shoulder and my eyeliner still intact.

We never saw each other again. Sometimes, every two or three months, she likes one of my Instagram photos. I like hers back. And both of us know what that small red heart means.