The Intern I Wanted to Make Mine from the Very First Day

I was forty-one, had a clothing brand bringing in more money than ever, and a loneliness that money couldn’t cure. I had built an empire and, at the same time, had no one to celebrate it with.

We had built the company when we were practically kids: Marina, Damián, and me. Three oddballs who had found one another in the halls of secondary school and didn’t fit in anywhere else. Marina and I were a couple for more than twenty years. Damián, on the other hand, never settled down; he jumped from one love to another without stopping at any of them.

They both died on the same road, the same night, inside the same car. I hadn’t gotten in by pure chance. For a long time, I wondered why the world hadn’t ended along with me, too, why they had left me out of that ending.

We were thirty-six when it happened. The brand stayed alive because it was well positioned and because we had designers and employees who kept it going better than I was capable of doing back then.

As for me, I made night into day. I consumed whatever came my way, legal or otherwise, without considering the consequences. I didn’t care in the slightest whether I woke up beside a man or a woman; all I wanted was not to be alone when I opened my eyes, even though I almost always was anyway.

After a short stay in a rehabilitation center, I returned to the world with my skin still raw. The first thing I did was stop by the factory to see how production was going. I walked through the logistics line, and that was when I saw her.

She was a beautiful woman, very young, with a look of concentration on her face that couldn’t be learned. I had no idea who she was or what she was doing there, but I knew in that very instant that she was going to be mine.

I looked for Mónica, my longtime right-hand woman, and asked her about her. She looked at me with a distrust she didn’t bother to hide.

—Mónica, tell me who she is. How long has she been working here?

—Not her, Renata. Please, not her.

—How long have you known me? You’ve been here practically since the first day. You know perfectly well I won’t stop until I find out. You can tell me, or I’ll go ask her myself.

She sighed and gave in. She told me the girl was still on probation, that her name was Catalina, that she was twenty-two and studying fashion design. For now, that position on the line was enough for her.

I asked her to arrange a meeting with everyone who had joined the company over the past year. It took two long days. I met new faces, listened to similar stories, nodded a thousand times. Until finally it was Catalina’s turn.

I knew I would see her on the second day, so I dressed up like I hadn’t in a long time. Jeans that looked painted on and a low-cut bodysuit that left very little to the imagination.

When she came through the door, I stood up to welcome her and showed a genuine interest in her.

—So, Cata, tell me: what do you like to do in your free time?

—My family has horses, so I ride whenever I can. And travel, of course.

—Do you have any trips planned? I love the horse thing.

—I have one planned to Vietnam with my boyfriend next fall.

—That’s planning ahead. It’s still about eight months away.

—I hope it isn’t a problem. I told Mónica when she interviewed me.

—Not at all. You can work that out with her. And are you comfortable here? She told me you were studying design.

—Yes, it’s like a dream. For my first job to be this place… I’m just starting college, and I’m taking it at my own pace so I can manage everything.

—When we started the company, we didn’t have the slightest idea what we were doing, but we were convinced we were going to succeed. I see that strength in you, Cata, that quality not everyone has. I’d love for you to grow here. I hope I can help you with what I’ve learned.

—That’s an enormous compliment coming from you. I hope I can become half the woman you are.

—Don’t even think about it! Do I look that old to you? Call me Renata, please.

—Then I’ll call you Renata. It would be a pleasure to learn from you.

—I’m looking at a few profiles for people to work close to me. I like yours a lot.

A few weeks later, Catalina and a guy named Bruno were called in as my assistants. Bruno really stood out; I knew he was going to be useful to me. My intentions with Catalina were different, though that didn’t mean she wouldn’t learn something along the way.

The first thing the two of them did was compete. They went all out trying to get my attention, each in their own way.

Bruno was brilliant, so I didn’t hesitate to send him to Paris with the design team to choose the fabrics for the next season. Catalina’s face when she found out showed pure dismay, but she didn’t say a word.

One afternoon she knocked on my office door to ask if she could leave early: she had an exam. I told her of course and offered to drive her to college myself. It was the first time we were alone.

We barely spoke during the drive. When she got out, before closing the door, I told her:

—Cata, you’re going to do great. Don’t get nervous. You’re going to eat that professor alive today.

—Thank you, Renata. You have no idea how much your words help.

She hugged me and got out. That hug wasn’t like the usual ones. It lasted a second too long, her cheek stayed pressed against mine, and I knew the ground was beginning to soften. I was going to seduce her little by little, without rushing.

The first thing I did the next day was ask her about the exam. She told me she’d done well, although she had gotten nervous. Bruno came back and kept me entertained for quite a while with his comments about the trip. It had been a long time since I’d felt so comfortable at the factory; I felt so renewed that I almost forgot about Catalina.

One afternoon she approached me, shyly, biting back her uncertainty.

—Renata, I’ve been wondering whether I’m doing the job right. Some days I don’t have all that much to do.

—Cata, you can give Bruno a hand, though don’t get frustrated if he has trouble letting go of something. I know people like him.

—See? You two have a special relationship. It’s as if you knew each other from before.

—And with you I have another relationship that’s beautiful and special too. Besides, we’re both women. We understand one another in ways a man can’t. Believe me, we could be even better if we got to know each other more.

—You’re the best mentor anyone could wish for. Tell me what I have to do to improve.

I didn’t think about it for long.

—Let’s do something. Your term ends this week. We’re going to tour the stores in the provinces where we have the strongest presence. You’ll travel with me and help me put things in order. What do you say?

The following week we were taking a plane to the first destination. While we flew, I explained how things stood in that province, where she needed to focus, what details to look at. As soon as we landed, we went straight to the store. She handled herself fairly well; I spoke with the employees and coordinated everything else.

After finishing the first inspection, we went back to the hotel and then out to lunch. She told me how happy she was, how she hoped she wouldn’t disappoint me. After lunch, I went to take a nap and told her that, if she wanted, we could go out to dinner and have a drink that night.

I found her in the lobby at nine. She was wearing a very short dress with three-quarter sleeves and one bare shoulder, over stilettos that lengthened her legs. I had put on a lace top and satin shorts. When we saw each other, we both laughed.

—You look good enough to eat, Cata.

She blushed and lowered her gaze. We had dinner in a dimly lit bar and sampled almost every drink on the menu, one after another. She loosened up with each glass. She asked me about Marina and Damián, and I told her how it had all begun in my kitchen, how I had fallen in love with Marina without realizing it.

—And how did you know she was the one and not a man?

—That’s easy. I’ve always liked women, Cata. Men don’t attract me. Just as you like boys, I like girls. A good conversation, things only another woman understands.

—Oh.

—Does that answer not make sense to you? —I laughed.

—It does… it’s just… have you never been with a guy?

—Of course I have. That’s precisely why I can say with such certainty that I like women. I’ve fucked men, I’ve had them inside me more than once, and it never made me tremble the way a woman’s pussy in my mouth does. Have you never…?

—Oh, Renata! Yes. In school, my friends and I used to kiss each other to practice.

—This conversation is getting interesting. And did you like it?

—I don’t know. It was so we’d be ready when it was time to kiss a boy. It wasn’t bad, but they were only kisses.

—A kiss can be much more intense than anything else. A properly given kiss will soak your panties before you realize it.

—Then I’d like you to kiss me.

I laughed out loud. I had her exactly where I wanted her.

—No, young lady. It’s flattering that you’re asking, but I’d rather it happen without alcohol involved.

—I’m asking seriously. You’re a beautiful woman and I’m dying to know what your kisses feel like.

The night continued along those lines. She complimented me, and I dodged her. Suddenly I felt her leg rubbing against mine beneath the table. The sensation ran through my whole body, shooting straight to my crotch. I asked her what she was doing, and she said, without shame, that she wanted to do exactly that.

We returned to the hotel both quite tipsy. She asked me to come to my room with her so she could kiss me. I took her to hers and, before I could refuse, she pulled me inside. I told her I would stay, but that nothing was going to happen. I took off her dress, put her in her pajamas, and lay down beside her. She fell asleep at once.

I had become aroused in a way that was difficult to explain. My panties were soaked, my nipples hard against the fabric of my pajamas, and her warm body was inches from mine. There, in the darkness, with her breathing close to my ear, I slipped my hand inside my underwear and touched myself. My fingers sank into a pussy so wet it made noise. I spread my lips, found my swollen clitoris, and began to circle it slowly with the tip of my middle finger, biting my lip so I wouldn’t moan loudly. I imagined her spreading her legs for me, imagined my tongue buried between those young thighs, and my pelvis moved on its own against my hand. I slid in two fingers, pulled them out dripping, and went back to circling my clitoris. I moaned barely above a whisper and came almost immediately, my legs pressed together and a long contraction shaking my entire body. I sucked my fingers one by one to taste myself, felt the sharp, salty taste of my own cunt in my mouth, and surrendered to sleep with the smell of sex clinging to my hands.

In the morning, Catalina was acting strangely. She knew perfectly well what she had drunk and how she had behaved. I told her not to feel bad about anything, that I had stayed only to watch over her sleep, that the night had been wonderful but there was no need to talk about it.

—Renata, please. The only thing I want is to talk about last night. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.

—I don’t want you to get confused. You have a boyfriend. I don’t want you making any rash decisions.

—I heard you touching yourself beside me while I was half-asleep. And I loved it. I enjoyed it so much. I didn’t know what to do, but I was dying for a kiss. I kept my hand pressed between my legs, listening to you moan.

I placed a finger against her full lips, as if telling her there was no need to add anything. I moved it slowly over her mouth, made her taste it, and slid it inside for her to suck. She took it with her lips parted, closed her tongue around it, and began sucking it as if it were a cock, taking it in to the knuckle. I whispered that I had touched myself with that finger while thinking of her, that the finger had been inside my pussy while I watched her sleep. I felt her heart quicken and a swallowed moan escape her.

I sat on the bed and sat her on top of me, straddling me, her pajama skirt riding up her thighs. I caressed her neck, kissed it, left soft, sweet kisses on her cheek, and suddenly found myself facing her lips. I traced them with my tongue, then pressed mine to hers and began moving my mouth. Her lips opened, our tongues sought one another, and the kisses grew thick and passionate, full of saliva. My hands tousled her hair, gripped the nape of her neck, and pulled her against me. She held me tighter and tighter, pressing closer, and through the pajama fabric I felt the heat of her crotch beginning to mark my thigh. I pulled back slightly and looked at her.

—Did you like it?

In answer, she began taking off her clothes with clumsy urgency. She pulled her pajama shirt over her head and threw her shorts onto the floor.

She was almost naked, with only a tiny thong for protection. Her breasts were firm and perfect, her pink nipples already stiff and pointed. I took off my pajamas and was left in my underwear, my panties visibly wet. I kissed her again hungrily, bit her lower lip, sucked her tongue, pressed one thigh against her pelvis and hers against mine, and began moving slowly so they would rub together. Through the fabric, I felt the damp bulge of her pussy rubbing against my leg. I felt her heating up, her breathing coming in broken gasps. I caressed her breasts, kissed them, licked her nipples in circles until they hardened like stones, took one between my teeth and tugged lightly, and she moaned, asking for more as she rocked against my leg, harder and harder, leaving a warm, sticky trail on my thigh.

—You’re a goddess —I whispered hoarsely in her ear—. I’m going to eat you whole.

I pushed her onto her back against the mattress and settled between her legs. I ran my thumbs over her thong, feeling the cleft of her soaked pussy through the cotton, and she arched her hips toward me. I pulled her thong down her thighs, slowly, with my teeth, until I got it off her ankles. I stared at her open, neat pussy, with a thin strip of dark hair on her mound, her inner lips glistening with wetness and her clitoris already peeking out. I sucked my middle finger, ran it up and down her slit, and opened her. She trembled all over.

I slid two fingers inside her, not before passing them through my mouth. They went in with wet ease, slipping smoothly, and her pussy closed around them, squeezing them tight. She liked it; I caressed her belly with my other hand while opening her, while curling my fingers upward in search of that spongy spot inside. Her whole body arched, her pelvis thrust against my hand, and she moaned with her head thrown back and her hair spread across the pillow. I felt her contract again and again, sucking my fingers from within.

—Look how you’re dripping —I said, pulling my fingers out and showing them to her, shining to the knuckle—. You’re all wet for me.

I ran them over her lips, and she opened them and sucked them without taking her eyes off me, tasting herself. I sank them back inside her, three this time, and lowered my head. I ran my tongue over her crotch without removing my fingers, slowly, savoring all of her. The taste was intense, salty, slightly sweet, with that metallic undertone only an aroused pussy has. I drove my tongue into her slit, took it up to her clitoris, lowered it to the entrance where my fingers were moving, and went back up. I took her clitoris between my lips and sucked it as if it were a tiny candy, tugging lightly, releasing it, and sucking again. Her moans grew so loud that she had to cover her mouth with her hand.

—No, don’t cover yourself —I said, lifting my face for a moment—. I want to hear you scream.

And I went back down. I made circles with the tip of my tongue over her clitoris, then shook my head from side to side, then sucked hard. I thrust my tongue inside her pussy and moved it like a small cock, then returned to her clitoris. At one point her hand pushed my head against her pelvis, almost involuntarily, and I attacked with greater force, pressing my face against her flesh, swallowing the juice running down her slit toward her ass. I curled my fingers inside her, tapping them rhythmically against the spongy spot, and sucked her clitoris at the same time. Her body went rigid, she stopped breathing for a second, and then she exploded. I felt the walls of her pussy suck at my fingers in long spasms, one after another, while a warm jet soaked my chin and her throat opened in a hoarse moan she couldn’t contain. I kept licking her slowly, more and more gently, until I left her exhausted and trembling, her legs still spread and her pussy throbbing on its own.

Afterward I lay down beside her. She looked at me, still breathing unevenly, her eyes glassy and her chest rising and falling, and kissed me without caring about anything, searching for her own taste in my mouth. She sucked my lips, my tongue, my chin—everything of mine that was coated with her.

—I’ve never felt anything like that —she murmured—. Never, Renata. Never.

—Now it’s your turn, my love. Don’t be afraid.

Clumsily, she tried to return the favor. She pulled my soaked panties down my thighs and stared at my pussy with a mixture of desire and fright. I spread my legs to show her, without shame, so she could see what she had done to me. It was shiny and swollen, my lips open and my clitoris exposed.

—Come here —I guided her—. Give me your hand.

I brought her fingers to my clitoris and explained what to do, helping her a little. I placed the tip of her index finger right on top and showed her how to circle it slowly, using the wetness as lubricant.

—Like that, in circles. Feel how it gets hard beneath your finger. That’s it. Now move down two fingers and put them inside me.

She inserted them carefully, watching my face to see whether she was doing it right. The sensation of those young fingers sinking into a woman’s pussy for the first time—into mine—drew a long moan from me.

—Move them, curl them upward. Yes, there. Right there. Don’t stop.

I liked the feeling of knowing she was learning, giving me pleasure for the first time, her mouth half-open and all her concentration focused on my body. She kissed my breasts meanwhile, sucked my nipples with more enthusiasm than technique, and that made everything much easier. I told her she looked beautiful naked, that I loved it, that she should keep going, that she mustn’t stop, and she couldn’t stop playing with my body, as if a whirlwind inside her had suddenly awakened.

—Go down with your mouth —I asked, almost voiceless—. Taste me.

She lowered herself hesitantly. She settled between my thighs, looked up at me as if asking permission, and stuck out her tongue. She ran it over me once, shyly, from bottom to top. I shuddered all over.

—Again. Deeper. Suck my clitoris, the way I did yours.

She learned quickly. She closed her lips around my clitoris and began to suck, softly at first, then with more hunger. She slipped her tongue between my lips, moved it up and down, and went back to sucking. I grabbed her head and set the rhythm, tightening my fingers in her hair.

—That’s it, my love, just like that. Put your fingers inside me and suck me at the same time. Yes. Yes. Don’t stop. Don’t stop.

Everything inside me contracted. My pelvis rose on its own against her mouth, my thighs squeezed her face, and I came with a long moan, shaking as I felt her mouth fill with me. She didn’t let go. She kept sucking slowly until I had to pull her head away because I couldn’t take any more.

I lifted her up, her mouth still glistening, and kissed her deeply, mixing our tastes. I took her face between my hands and kissed her for a long time, biting her lip and sucking her tongue.

—You learn fast, you little bitch —I said, laughing against her mouth.

She laughed too, blushing, and pressed herself against me. We stayed like that for a long while, skin against skin, still wet, our hearts racing. I slipped a hand between her legs again, almost without thinking, and found her soaked once more. I slid two fingers inside her and began moving them slowly without breaking the embrace, while kissing her neck.

—Again? —she panted.

—Again. And again. And as many times as you want.

I mounted her on top of me, put her astride my thigh, and taught her how to rub herself against it. She grabbed my breasts and began to move, shyly at first, then hungrily, grinding her pussy against the flesh of my leg, leaving a wet trail and moaning into my mouth. I held her ass with both hands and guided her, squeezing it and setting the rhythm. She came like that, on top of me, her head thrown back and her nipples pointing toward the ceiling, then collapsed onto my chest.

***

I explained that we had to stop, that they were waiting for us at the store. She refused, telling me she couldn’t, that she didn’t want to, that she wanted to go back to bed. After insisting that work was work, I returned to my room, changed, and met her to go out.

Her face was completely distraught. I didn’t need to ask. The moment I saw her, I knew she had spoken to her boyfriend.