The Receptionist Had Never Been with a Woman

Bianca Vela had a very specific way of understanding desire: when she felt it, she went after it. Waiting for things to happen on their own had never served her. When her body asked for something, she chose someone and said it out loud, without beating around the bush. Most of the time that someone was her husband. But when they traveled, the two of them enjoyed opening the door to other people: a guy, a girl, a couple they happened to meet on a terrace. She had no shame about starting a conversation or ending it where she wanted it to end, with her hand between someone’s legs or another man’s cock sunk deep in her mouth.

That week they had set off on a route through the south, with no fixed itinerary, stopping in mountain villages they chose according to the mood of the day. The first stop was Cazorla, a village tucked between pine-covered slopes, with steep streets and a silence that turned thick at night. They stayed in a small hotel of stone and dark beams, with warm rooms and the smell of firewood drifting through the corridors. It was the kind of place people went to rest. Bianca had not gone there to rest.

That afternoon, while her husband lay down for a while in the room, she went down to reception on the excuse of asking about a walk. Behind the desk was a dark-haired girl with her hair tied back a little carelessly and green eyes that darted too quickly whenever someone looked at her straight on. She wore a cardigan buttoned all the way up, as if she wanted to take up as little space as possible.

—Hi, I’m Bianca —she said, leaning on the counter with studied ease—. Can you recommend somewhere nice to walk around here?

The girl, who introduced herself as Noa, told her about a trail that climbed to a lookout and a pool farther down where the river grew still between the rocks. She spoke well, but her hands betrayed her: she kept rolling a pen between her fingers. Bianca listened only half the time. She was more interested in the way Noa’s cheeks lit up every time their eyes met too long, and she was mentally measuring her tits under the cardigan, small and firm, probably braless.

—Thanks, I think tomorrow I’ll go up to that lookout —she said, without straightening up—. Hey, are you always here alone in the afternoons?

—Almost always —Noa replied, lowering her eyes a little—. There’s not much going on in the afternoons. Do you like the hotel?

—A lot. It’s cozy. —She paused on purpose—. Though I think it would be even more interesting with a calmer conversation. And better company.

Noa lifted her head, not quite sure whether she had understood what she thought she had understood. She didn’t look away, and that was enough for Bianca. She wasn’t one for detours.

—I like you, Noa —she said, in a low voice, as if it were the most normal thing in the world—. I’d love to fuck you tonight. No rush, no strings. You don’t have to answer me now. Think about it.

The girl was speechless. She opened her mouth, closed it, looked toward the door as if to make sure no one was coming in. Bianca, without waiting for a reaction, wrote the number of her room on a corner of a brochure and slid it across the counter.

—In case you feel like coming up later so I can eat your pussy —she added, unchanged in tone, and headed for the elevator without looking back, knowing the girl was still watching her with her mouth slightly open.

***

That night they had dinner in the hotel dining room. While they shared a bottle of wine, Bianca told her husband what had happened at reception, in vivid detail, including how she had told the girl she wanted to eat her pussy. He smiled over the rim of his glass and shifted in his chair. They had long since stopped being jealous about that sort of thing; on the contrary, he liked seeing her like that, determined and turned on, and just hearing her tell it had already given him a hard-on under his pants.

—Then enjoy yourself —he said, squeezing her knee under the table, sliding his hand up until it brushed the edge of her panties—. I’ll take the book to bed and leave the field clear for you. Tomorrow you can tell me what the receptionist tastes like.

Bianca laughed, gently moved his hand away, and promised him under her breath that she would tell him in detail, every lick. After dinner, she stayed in the hotel lounge, in an armchair set apart beside the dead fireplace, with a crime novel in her hands that she barely read. She kept rereading the same page over and over, listening for the sound of the door, her pussy already throbbing under her skirt. She didn’t have to wait long.

Noa appeared with hesitant steps, dressed in street clothes, her hair loose for the first time. Without the counter in front of her she looked more fragile, but also more determined, with tight jeans that outlined her ass and a thin T-shirt under an open jacket. She stopped a couple of meters away, wringing her fingers.

—Can I sit down? —she asked, almost in a whisper.

—Of course —Bianca replied, closing the book and making room for her—. I’m glad you came.

They sat very close, on the same sofa. Bianca didn’t pounce. She took one of Noa’s hands between both of hers and held it, slowly, watching her. The girl trembled a little, but she didn’t pull away. Bianca started talking softly, telling her silly things at first—the trip, the village, the mountain cold—and little by little Noa loosened up.

—I’ve never been with a woman —she confessed, looking down at her hands—. But I’ve always been curious. Sometimes, with some guests, I end up thinking things I shouldn’t. I imagine kissing them, touching them… slipping my hand under their dress. And I’ve never dared do anything.

—Tonight you’re going to dare everything —Bianca said, sliding her thumb over the back of her hand—. I’m going to make you come until you can’t anymore. If you let me.

Noa finally looked her in the eyes, and in that look there was nerves but also something firmer, a decision she had been building since the afternoon. She nodded, wordless. Bianca stood and held out her hand. The girl took it as one would take hold of a railing.

***

They went up together. Bianca’s room was at the end of the corridor, far from any noise. Her husband had discreetly moved to another room they had booked just in case; that was their silent agreement. Bianca locked the door, poured two glasses of a cava they had cooling, and handed one to Noa.

—To loosen your shoulders —she said, smiling—. They’re up by your ears.

Noa laughed, and the laugh broke some of the tension. She took a sip, then another. They stood talking by the window, while outside the night closed over the valley. Bianca moved closer without the conversation justifying it, took the glass from her hand and set it on the sill. She brushed a strand of hair away from Noa’s face and kissed her.

The first kiss was slow, almost a question. Noa answered slowly, her mouth stiff at first, until she understood there was nothing to prove and let herself go. Bianca kissed her calmly, without invading her, letting Noa set the depth. When she felt the girl start seeking her tongue with her own, she slipped a hand inside her jacket and squeezed one breast over the T-shirt. Her nipple hardened instantly against her palm. Noa let out a gasp into Bianca’s mouth.

—They stand up all by themselves —Bianca whispered, laughing against her lips—. Let’s take this off.

She tugged the jacket off Noa’s shoulders and pulled the T-shirt over her head. Underneath she wore a cheap white cotton bra that Bianca ripped open in one motion. Noa’s tits sprang free, small and round, with stiff pink nipples pointing upward. Bianca bent down and took one into her mouth, sucking it slowly, drawing it between her lips. With her other hand she pinched the other nipple, not too hard, just enough to make the girl arch her back.

—Fuck —murmured Noa, clutching Bianca by the nape—. Fuck, fuck…

—That’s it, say all the dirty things you want —Bianca answered without taking the breast from her mouth—. No one can hear you here.

She led her to the bed and sat her on the edge. Kneeling in front of her, she took off her boots and unbuttoned her jeans. She pulled them down from her ankles, along with her panties, and left her naked all at once, with her legs together and her hands trying to cover herself. Bianca gently moved her hands aside and opened her thighs.

Noa’s pussy was glossy, soaked, with neatly trimmed dark hair and labia already swollen. Bianca ran her tongue over her lips, looking at it.

—What a beautiful pussy you have —she said, not taking her eyes off it—. And so wet. All this for me?

Noa couldn’t answer. Bianca kissed the inside of her thighs, first one and then the other, still not getting anywhere, just making her feel the heat of her mouth coming closer. She ran her tongue very near the pussy without touching it, up to the groin, down again, and the girl gripped the sheets with both hands, moving her hips forward, searching for Bianca’s mouth.

—Please —she gasped—. Please…

Bianca smiled and went in. She opened Noa’s pussy lips with two fingers and drove her whole tongue inside, from bottom to top, up to the clit. Noa cried out and let herself fall back onto the bed. Bianca held her by the hips and started eating her slowly, with long, flat licks, sucking her clit in intervals, slipping the tip of her tongue into the entrance of her pussy and pulling it back out, drawing circles.

Noa tasted salty with something sweet underneath, and she was so wet that within a few minutes Bianca’s chin was soaked and her hair was stuck to her cheeks. She slipped in one finger, then two, curving them upward, searching for that rough spot inside. When she found it, the girl jerked up suddenly.

—There —Noa panted—. There, there, there…

Bianca didn’t change a thing. She kept her fingers moving slowly, in and out, while she sucked Noa’s clit with her mouth closed, tugging at it with her lips. Noa started shaking all over. She grabbed Bianca’s hair with both hands, mouth open, silent at first and then with a low, deep moan that kept rising until it was almost a howl.

—I’m coming —she managed to say—. I’m coming, I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming…

Noa’s pussy clenched around Bianca’s fingers in one spasm after another, while the girl bucked on the bed and shoved Bianca’s face with her hips. Bianca held on, not removing her mouth or her fingers, stretching the orgasm until Noa pushed at her forehead to make her stop, unable to take any more.

—I can’t, I can’t anymore… —she gasped, a hand on her chest, trembling.

Bianca climbed up, lay down beside her, and ran her soaked fingers over her lips. Noa opened her mouth without thinking and sucked them, tasting herself, and just seeing her do that made Bianca’s pussy clench hard.

—Good girl —she whispered in her ear—. Now it’s your turn.

—I don’t know what to do —Noa confessed, her voice hoarse—. Teach me.

Bianca undressed slowly, letting the girl look. Her tits were bigger, her nipples dark, and a shaved pussy that Noa stared at fixedly. She gently pushed her so she knelt between her legs and guided her head down.

—Start slowly. Lick from bottom to top, long, unhurried. When you get to the clit, don’t press; suck it gently.

Noa obeyed. She stuck out her tongue and ran it over Bianca’s pussy awkwardly at first, but soon found the rhythm. Bianca grabbed her hair and set the pace, throwing her head back onto the pillow.

—Like that, fuck, like that… now the fingers, put two in… deeper… curve… there.

The girl learned fast. She slid her fingers in as told, searched for the spot with her fingertips, and when she felt Bianca writhing, she set herself to licking her clit with the same persistence with which it had been done to her. Bianca spread her legs all the way and started fucking Noa’s mouth without holding back, hips lifted, guiding her by the hair.

—Keep going like that, don’t stop, you’re going to make me come… don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop…

Noa didn’t stop. Bianca came with a long moan, pressing Noa’s head against her pussy, while the contractions shook her belly. The girl kept licking until Bianca pulled her up by the hair and kissed her deeply, tasting herself in her mouth.

—You learn fast —she told her, panting—. Very fast.

They didn’t stop there. Bianca put her on all fours and got behind her, over her, with one leg between hers, to fuck her pussy with her thigh while she squeezed her tits from behind and bit her shoulder. Noa rubbed herself against her, moaning, ass raised and pussy already red from so much use, until she came again, soaking Bianca’s thigh. Then Bianca lay on her back and made her climb on top, face to face, their two pussies pressed together, moving slowly against each other, kissing, until they both came almost at the same time with their mouths open against the other’s mouth.

They spent a good part of the night like that, without a clock, alternating urgency and calm. There were low laughs, a bit of clumsiness, a couple of long silences in which they stared at each other as if they didn’t quite understand what was happening. Bianca taught her how to take three fingers, how to lick slowly and how to lick fast, how to fuck with scissors. Noa came so many times she lost count, and at some point it was she who buried her tongue in Bianca without anyone telling her how, and drew another orgasm from her.

When they finally lay still, tangled and exhausted under the sheets, legs mixed together and the bedding sticky, Noa rested her head on Bianca’s chest.

—Thanks for coming to reception this afternoon —she said, half asleep.

—Thanks to you for coming up —Bianca replied, stroking her back.

The girl fell asleep right away, with that deep breathing of someone who has shed a weight. Bianca stayed awake a while longer, staring at the ceiling of dark beams, her pussy still softly throbbing and the receptionist’s taste in her mouth, satisfied in that calm way she only knew after a night well spent.

In the morning, Noa went back to her buttoned-up cardigan and her receptionist’s voice, but as they said goodbye at the desk she held Bianca’s gaze a second longer than necessary, and this time she didn’t blush. Bianca and her husband loaded the suitcases into the car and drove off up the road, leaving Cazorla behind in the mist.

The next stop was Úbeda. There, in a rural house on the outskirts, a newly married couple would cross paths with them at breakfast and become the center of the next story. But that, as they say, is another night.