The Stranger Who Wrote to Me and Seduced Me at the Movies

Have you heard that saying, “be careful what you wish for”? Well, I wished for it so hard that it ended up happening. For a couple of years I had an idea stuck in my head that I didn’t dare say out loud: I wanted to be with another woman. I didn’t even fully admit it to myself, but curiosity followed me around like a low hum. I wanted to know what another woman’s mouth tasted like, what it felt like to move over her skin without rushing, to find out whether it was really so different from what I already knew.

One afternoon I uploaded a random photo to my profile, one of those pictures you post without thinking. That very night I got a message request. I opened it out of simple curiosity and found a couple of lines from a girl I’ll call Daniela here: “I adore you, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” I stared at the screen, not knowing what to answer. In the end I wrote a shy “aww, thank you” and closed the app, thinking that would be the end of it.

The days passed and I forgot about it. But a week later she wrote to me again, this time asking for my number. I don’t know whether it was because I was turned on, bored, or a mix of both, but I agreed to give it to her. The truth is, something about her persistence made my skin tingle.

Daniela started texting me and I kept my distance, replying briefly, keeping a boundary. Until one day she asked the direct question:

—Do you like women?

I told her I had never been with one and that I wasn’t interested in the idea either. A huge lie, of course. But she didn’t give up.

—You have no idea how delicious it is —she texted—. Tasting another woman, feeling how she gives herself over, how she trembles. You have no idea what you’re missing.

I was left speechless in front of my phone. I could feel myself getting wet with every line she wrote, as if I were reading them with my whole body and not just my eyes.

—Oh, really? —I typed, getting bolder—. And what else?

—I love it when they finish in my mouth. I don’t let go until they come.

When did I get myself into this?, I thought. But I didn’t want to get out. Every word she said lit me up a little more.

From that conversation on, everything changed. Daniela learned to read me: she knew when I was alone, when I was bored, when one word from her was enough to leave me restless for the rest of the day. She told me things, scenes, what she would do to me if she had me close, and I caught myself rereading her messages in secret, biting my lip at the screen like a teenager. What started as curiosity had become a need I no longer knew how to hide.

What was most unsettling was how natural it felt. There was no guilt or shame in the way she spoke to me, and that gave me permission to imagine without brakes. I surprised myself thinking about her while doing ordinary things, wondering what her skin would smell like, how her voice would sound up close, whether her lips would be as soft as I imagined. Every night I promised myself I’d cut it off, and every morning I went back to looking for her name on the screen.

We talked like that for several weeks. Conversations that began innocently and ended up setting me on fire until I couldn’t sleep. Until one night she suggested it: she wanted to see me. Scared and excited in equal measure, I said yes.

***

We decided to meet at the movies, like friends, to watch some random film. That cover story gave me the calm I needed not to back out. I got dressed carefully, mixing comfort and flirtation: a high-waisted animal-print skirt, a fitted white top, and classic black sneakers. Simple makeup and my long hair loose, falling down my back. I looked at myself in the mirror and was surprised to find myself seeking her approval in my own reflection.

We met at the entrance and I almost ran out of air. Daniela was even prettier in person. She was wearing a short denim skirt, a red top that barely contained her generous breasts, and sneakers. When I walked up to greet her, she leaned toward my ear and whispered something that left me frozen:

—I’m not wearing any underwear.

I felt a wave of heat run through me from head to toe. I didn’t know what to say, so I just smiled and followed her inside, my heart pounding in places I shouldn’t have been able to feel it.

The auditorium was practically empty. I counted barely four other people, all scattered in the front rows. We went up to the back, off to one side, where the darkness was almost total. I sat down nervously, fiddling with the hem of my skirt. We bought a single bucket of popcorn to share, and she offered to hold it. Much later I understood that it was all part of her plan.

The lights went out. For the first few minutes we pretended to watch the screen and nibble popcorn, like any two friends. I reached out for more and, instead of the cardboard bucket, my fingers brushed the warm skin of her thigh. I looked at her in surprise. She gave me a slow, wicked smile and leaned toward my ear.

—It feels so good when you touch me —she murmured—. Why don’t you move your hand up a little?

I wanted to pull it back on reflex, but she held it gently and guided it under her skirt. She wasn’t lying: she had nothing on underneath. I felt her heat before I touched her fully, and then she spread her legs, opening herself for me in the dark. I wasn’t reacting, paralyzed between fear and a desire burning in my chest.

Daniela leaned toward my mouth and slowly ran her tongue over my lips. I parted them almost without thinking. With my other hand I drew her toward me, and when she came back for me, I kissed her for real. I was kissing her. Her tongue against mine, her breathing mingling with mine in the dim light. It was everything I had imagined and more.

My fingers moved through her wetness as we kissed, and she let out a sigh against my mouth. She opened her legs even wider, inviting me in, and I touched her with a clumsiness that gradually turned into certainty. This was what I had denied so fiercely.

—I want to taste you —I told her in her ear, my voice breaking—. Let me.

—Do it —she answered, and dragged her tongue along my neck. My whole body shivered.

***

I looked to one side and the other. The four silhouettes remained motionless, absorbed in the movie. I slid out of my seat, settled as best I could in the little space there was, and lowered my head between her legs. I kissed the inner side of her thighs, moving upward without hurry, feeling how she tensed beneath my lips. Her scent intoxicated me completely.

I ran my tongue over her and heard her hold back a moan. No one heard her. Knowing we were on the verge of being discovered made me even hotter. I started to work her slowly, alternating tongue and lips, learning her rhythm as I went. When I slid in two fingers, she tangled her hand in my hair and pressed me against her, moving frantically in search of more.

I didn’t want to stop. I couldn’t. I kept going until I felt her whole body tense, holding her breath so she wouldn’t cry out, and then she came with a long tremor that shook her legs. I stayed there a moment longer, savoring her surrender, before climbing back up into the seat and kissing her.

—Damn, you do this so well —she panted into my ear.

Then it was my turn. She copied me: looked around, checked that we were still safe, and crouched down. She lifted my skirt with eager hands and I felt the first touch of her tongue exactly where I needed it. I shuddered in the seat. I put one leg up on the armrest to give her better access, surrendering completely to what she was doing to me.

The adrenaline, her mouth, the darkness, the risk of someone turning their head: it all blended into a delicious mix that drove me wild. She licked me and teased me with a skill that made me bite my lips to keep from crying out. When she went in with her fingers, she did it with a firmness that tore a moan from me that I swear the four people in the theater heard. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore.

She didn’t stop. Her tongue and fingers worked at the same time, taking me to a place I had never reached like that before. When I thought I couldn’t take any more, the orgasm rushed through me from head to toe and left me trembling against the back of the seat. She kept going a little longer, gently, until she kissed me again and straightened my clothes with unexpected tenderness.

I couldn’t resist: I pulled up her top and kissed those breasts I’d been imagining all night. Daniela laughed softly and gently pushed me away.

—I can’t wait to have you alone —she told me.

—Soon, baby —I answered, kissing her—. I want a lot more of this.

When the movie ended, we walked out like nothing had happened, two friends chatting about the plot. No one looked at us twice. No one knew what had happened in the back row, in the darkness, while the screen kept projecting a story neither of us ever got around to watching.

That night, on the way home, I understood something: I had wanted that for years, and now that I had tasted it, there was no going back. Be careful what you wish for. Sometimes it comes true, and it turns out better than you imagined.