The Stranger on the Subway Who Woke Daniela

Daniela had met Andrés at university, and they had become a couple almost without meaning to, almost out of inertia. They had been together for five years and, now that they both worked, they had decided to move in together. The next step, the wedding, was already marked somewhere close on the calendar. If anyone had asked Daniela how she felt at that moment in her life, she would have replied that she was happy, and she would have said it without lying.

One morning, on her way to work, a stranger surprised her on the subway. It was a short-haired brunette, slender, with black eyes that seemed far too alive for that hour. She pushed her way through the people filling the car as if she were floating over everyone’s shoulders. She stopped a couple of meters away from Daniela and, for an instant, their eyes met. The woman was watching her with brazen curiosity, with no attempt to hide it, until Daniela had to look away, uncomfortable.

Two stops passed and she couldn’t stop stealing glances at her, checking that the other woman was doing exactly the same. When the stranger got off the train, she gave her a brief smile and disappeared into the crowd. For much of the day, Daniela found herself thinking about that woman she was almost certain she would never see again.

But a few days later they ran into each other again. They were waiting for the subway, each on opposite platforms. Their eyes met once more, and this time Daniela didn’t look away. Those eyes seemed to get inside her and search for something she didn’t even know she was hiding. Suddenly, the woman smiled and broke into a run.

Daniela knew she was coming toward her. Her train was already entering the station. She stood frozen in front of the open door, hesitating between getting on and going home to Andrés, as she did every night, or waiting. The doubt seemed absurd to her. And yet she couldn’t get on. She let the doors close and watched the train pull away, astonished at herself.

The woman reached the platform a few seconds later, breathless.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Thank you for what?”

“For waiting for me.” And she pointed to the tunnel, where the departing train was still audible.

“It was very crowded,” Daniela improvised.

“Even better. My name’s Vera.” And she held out her hand.

“Daniela. Nice to meet you.”

Her skin was soft and she shook her hand firmly. Vera was wearing tight jeans that traced out a pair of very long legs and a tank top with a printed slogan: Good girls do not exist. Daniela swallowed.

“I like the way you dress,” Vera said.

“Thanks. You look good too.”

“Different style. Yours is more classic, more elegant. You’re a very elegant woman.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

It was obvious Vera had been attracted to her from the very first exchange of glances. Daniela, on the other hand, was confused. Vera was gorgeous, no doubt about it, but she was engaged to Andrés and happy by his side. And yet, in front of that stranger she felt nervous, insecure, exposed.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Vera suggested.

“I can’t, I have to go.”

“Where to?”

“Home.”

“And you can’t delay that by half an hour? Is something burning in the oven?”

“No, but I’m expected.”

“Your boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Do you live together?”

“Yes.”

“And how’s that going?”

“Very well.”

“Then that coffee won’t hurt anyone. Come on!”

“No, sorry. It’s already far too late.”

Vera took her hand and, with a pen, wrote a few numbers in her palm.

“My phone number. Maybe another day you’ll have more time. I’d love to have a drink with you.”

“Okay.”

“And if we never see each other again… just so you know, you’re beautiful.”

Before Daniela could answer, Vera kissed her. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but she felt the softness and sweetness of that mouth and noticed her cheeks burning like embers.

“Mmm. Truly beautiful,” Vera murmured, and walked away just as another train entered the station.

Daniela got on the train and watched that woman, with those endless legs, recede into the distance.

***

On the way home she looked at the number written on her hand as if trying to memorize it. She wasn’t planning to call, but she didn’t wipe it away either: when she got home, she copied it onto a piece of paper.

“Hi, sweetheart. What are you writing down?” Andrés asked from the sofa.

“Nothing, a client’s phone number.”

“How was your day?”

“Fine, as always.”

Not telling Andrés anything about Vera was, deep down, the most revealing thing of all. If it really had meant nothing, she would have mentioned it without thinking; maybe they would even have laughed together at the stranger’s boldness. By keeping quiet, Daniela was giving it exactly the importance it had for her, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

She had the number, but she couldn’t bring herself to use it. Every time she got on the subway, however, she looked for her. Vera never showed up. Several days went by like that, without being able to get her out of her head. And she knew that calling her was taking a risk: not only because of that woman’s obvious intentions, but because she herself wasn’t sure how she would react to a second kiss.

In the end she had to admit it: she was attracted to Vera. It was strange. Nothing like this had ever happened to her… well, once, when she was very young, she had felt something like it for Carla, if she even knew then what desire was. They kissed one afternoon, in secret. But Carla moved to another city soon after, and it was all over before it had even begun. Daniela buried that memory and started going out with boys, like all her friends, doing what was expected of her. And it hadn’t gone badly. She was even going to get married. Why am I obsessed with a stranger? she wondered.

Then Andrés told her he had to travel for work for three days. Only three days, an eternity for Daniela at that moment. She took him to the airport and, on the way back, found the folded paper in a coat pocket. She could no longer resist.

“Vera?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Daniela.”

“Daniela? The girl from the subway?”

“Yes.”

“How nice. Tell me.”

“I was thinking… maybe we could have that coffee.”

“Great. When? Where?”

“Would this afternoon work for you, at five, in Clock Square?”

“I’ll be there. Kisses.”

***

Daniela stopped by her apartment first and put on a dark blue dress, short and tight. She did her eyes, fixed her lips, washed her hair. When Vera saw her arrive, she couldn’t hold back.

“Jesus. You’re breathtaking.”

Daniela blushed.

“Don’t exaggerate.”

“So you decided to call me. I thought you wouldn’t.”

“I thought it was the right thing to do.”

“Did you only call me out of politeness?”

“Of course.”

“What a shame. I thought there was something more.”

“Vera, I imagine you’re lesbian, but I’m not, and I have a boyfriend. I only came for a coffee.”

“If you say so… But the other day, on the subway, that kiss…”

“You caught me by surprise.”

“Okay. But then be honest: do you always dress up this nicely to have coffee with a friend?”

“I’m vain,” Daniela said, avoiding her gaze.

“And beautiful.”

“Stop, do you want to make me blush?”

“I’d want much more than that. If you let me.”

Daniela was nervous, but deep down she liked what she was hearing. She felt valued, desired, alive. How long has it been since I felt like this?

“Shall we take a walk?” Vera suggested.

“All right.”

Vera took her by the hand and Daniela didn’t pull away. They walked for a good while until they reached the riverbank and sat on the grass to watch a few boats heading out toward the sea.

“So how’s the sex with your boyfriend?” Vera blurted out.

“What? Why would I answer that?”

“Then it’s bad?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m saying it’s none of your business.”

“Well, I’d like it to be. You’d have a better time with me, I promise you.”

“I already told you I’m not lesbian.”

“Say whatever you like. I know you’re into me. Tell me I’m not your type.”

“No.”

“No what? No, I’m not your type, or no, you don’t want to tell me?”

“I’m not into you. That’s that.”

“Say it again while looking me in the eyes.”

Daniela turned her head ready to repeat it, but when she met those black eyes she fell silent. Vera leaned in slowly. Daniela saw the kiss coming and still she was unable to move; in truth, she had been craving those lips since the subway. Vera kissed her tenderly, holding her by the back of the neck so she wouldn’t pull away, though there was no need. Daniela parted her lips and their tongues sought each other, nervous. What began tender turned into a wet, deep, hungry kiss.

“Stop. I have to go,” she said suddenly, pulling away at once.

“Stay. Let’s go to my place.”

“No. Goodbye, Vera.”

“Will we see each other again?”

“I don’t think so.”

And she meant it. Or wanted to mean it. The problem was the fear of where another meeting could take her. She had never been unfaithful to Andrés and she knew that beside this woman she was one step away from doing it.

***

But Vera had her number and she wasn’t the type to give up. The next day a message arrived:

Most weekends I go to Violeta, a place in the harbor area. At seven. In case you feel like it.

Daniela deleted it.

Saturday came and she remembered the message word for word. But that day Andrés was coming back and she stayed home waiting for him. She decided that night she would sleep with him. She was horny, yes, though not exactly because of her boyfriend, but thinking about Vera. After dinner she started caressing him on the sofa, but he only wanted to sleep. After a while with no response, Daniela got into the shower. The hot water fanned her arousal and she ended up masturbating, braced against the tiles, biting her lip. She wasn’t thinking about Andrés. She came with such intensity that it left her trembling, and when she looked at herself in the mirror she was afraid of herself. How is it possible that a couple of kisses leave me like this?

She spent the entire week thinking about the following Saturday. Little by little she came to understand that she would go to Violeta, that her desire to see Vera outweighed any sensible reason. On Wednesday she made love to Andrés in the kitchen; he enjoyed it and finished quickly, but she didn’t climax.

On Saturday she lied to him: she said she was going shopping downtown with a friend. Instead, she took the subway south into the city.

***

She had no trouble finding Violeta. It had a striking facade, lit with purple and pink lights. It was seven-thirty and the place was full. Women only: some in couples, at tables in the dim light; others dancing on the main floor; others at the bar, looking for company. Daniela squeezed in and began searching for Vera with her eyes. She couldn’t see her. A very striking blonde approached.

“Good evening. I don’t know you. Do you come here often?”

“Huh? No, I don’t usually come.”

“You’re very pretty. Want to dance with me?”

“No, sorry. Thanks.”

“She’s with me,” Vera said, appearing out of nowhere.

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart. Have a good time,” the blonde replied, and left them alone.

“Good evening, Daniela. You came. Great.”

“I did. Nice place.”

“Damn, you look amazing.”

She was wearing a white blouse and a red miniskirt, and it was true that she looked spectacular: green eyes, wavy chestnut hair, a body that didn’t go unnoticed and legs she liked to show off. They ordered drinks.

“What do you do?” Daniela asked.

“I’m a tattoo artist. And you?”

“I work at a publishing house.” She smiled. “One day you’ll have to let me get a tattoo from you.”

“Any time you want. I’d make you something beautiful.” And as she said it, Vera rested her hand on Daniela’s knee.

“Do you hook up a lot here?”

“I’m not complaining. But up until now I only fucked. I hadn’t found what I was looking for.”

The hand slowly moved up Daniela’s thigh, and she was starting to get very nervous while, at the same time, enjoying the touch.

“And what were you looking for?”

“You.”

Vera’s hand was already under the skirt, very close to her underwear. Daniela placed her own hand over Vera’s arm to stop her, but she didn’t press, didn’t really hold her back.

“You don’t… know me,” her voice trembled.

“I think I do. You’re what I wanted. And now I’m not letting you go.”

Vera was stroking her through the fabric and Daniela was burning. Suddenly she became aware of where she was, felt ashamed, pulled Vera’s hand away, and went out into the street. She leaned against the wall to catch her breath. Vera caught up with her and kissed her on the lips. This time Daniela didn’t resist: she kissed her back and felt the arousal taking hold of her again. She understood that tonight she was going to cheat on Andrés and that she could no longer, nor wanted to, avoid it.

“I live two streets away. Coming?”

“Yes.”

***

The walk was short, but to the two of them it felt endless. They went hand in hand, in silence, nervous. Daniela was wildly turned on imagining what was about to happen with that fascinating woman.

As soon as they crossed the apartment door, Vera pounced on her, kissing her lips, her neck, her cheeks. Daniela accepted the kisses with her eyes closed and her head thrown back. Vera began to unbutton her blouse with clumsy fingers, devoured by need. Then she took off her bra and stood still for a moment, looking at her. A second later her mouth was on Daniela’s breasts, nibbling her hard nipples while Daniela gasped.

She laid her on the kitchen table, unable to wait until they reached the bed. She pulled down her skirt and her underwear. Daniela stood naked before her, and Vera looked her over from head to toe.

“You’re incredible. I want you, Daniela. You have no idea how much.”

“And I want you. Come here.”

Vera knelt and buried her face between her legs. Her tongue explored every corner while one hand caressed her breast. Daniela, completely surrendered, stretched her arms above her head and let herself be handled. Her body arched to the rhythm of Vera’s mouth, which kept kissing her, licking her, pressing her tongue right where she needed it most. The moans grew louder, more broken, until a brutal orgasm shook her and trapped Vera’s head between her thighs.

For a few seconds only her ragged breathing could be heard, as she recovered from the most intense pleasure of her life.

Vera then took her to the bed. There they kissed again while Daniela undressed. When at last their bodies came together, the heat and softness of skin against skin ignited them again. Daniela began to caress her with her fingers, discovering her, searching for what she already knew of herself. Vera moaned, telling her with her voice where, how, how much. Daniela learned quickly, and the woman who had been pursuing her for weeks ended up writhing under her hands until she came with a muffled cry against her shoulder.

Afterward they lay in each other’s arms, silent, listening to their breathing in the half-light.

“I knew you’d come,” Vera said at last, stroking her hair.

“I didn’t know,” Daniela admitted, “or I didn’t want to know.”

***

She cried silently that night, already past midnight, while Vera slept. She hated hurting Andrés. She hated lying to him. But she couldn’t deny what she felt, or pretend nothing had happened, or shove back inside herself what that stranger on the subway had brought to light.

The next day, on an ordinary Sunday in the calendar, Daniela began her new life.