A Mature Woman Crossed Three Provinces for Her Young Lover

They shut down the office where I worked in the mornings and I was left with nothing. I spent weeks looking for work in my city, then in the surrounding towns, and in the end I had to widen the radius to places I had never even considered moving to. The only serious offer was far away, and since the rents in the center were impossible, I ended up renting in a cheap village half an hour from Burgos.

I was so caught up in the move, so busy with boxes and forms, that I barely told anyone. I moved almost in silence, as if I wanted to start from scratch. And starting from scratch, without knowing it, meant leaving behind the only thing I would truly miss.

I found out on the first day, unpacking in the new apartment. I couldn’t find my phone. I looked everywhere, under the furniture, inside the bags, in the car. Nothing. I had to go to the phone company to cancel the line so they wouldn’t charge me for someone else’s usage, and while I was at it, I got a new number.

The problem came after that. I had an old notebook with phone numbers written down by hand, and I was transferring them one by one into the contacts on the new phone. All except his. Adrián’s wasn’t anywhere.

I’ve lost him. I’ve lost my boy and I didn’t even say goodbye.

Adrián and I had a clear arrangement from the start: only sex, no promises, no labels. I was a few years older than him and far from making that awkward, it was part of the game. We saw each other three or four times a week, depending on our desire, and it was almost always him who wanted more. Losing him like that, because of a stupid oversight, left a strange emptiness in my chest.

The months passed. I got used to the village, to work, to the long afternoons. But some nights the memory came back hard and I ended up touching myself in bed, remembering his voice, his hands, the way he gave me orders in a low voice. I would masturbate thinking about him and fall asleep with a mix of pleasure and longing.

***

Six months later, while organizing another one of my notebooks, I found an old email account written down with his password. I had used it so little I had almost forgotten it. I tried my luck, more out of curiosity than hope, and it was still active.

Among dozens of old messages there was one I hadn’t expected: an email from a mutual friend telling me Adrián had been asking about me for months, that he didn’t understand my disappearance, that if I ever read it I should write him. My pulse quickened. I replied that very night, with clumsy hands over the keyboard.

Two days later I heard his voice again in a voice note, and I swear my knees went weak. That deep, mocking, confident voice. It’s still him. He still wants me like before. We talked for hours, recovering our old tone, and within a couple of weeks we already had a plan.

Adrián didn’t have a car, so I would be the one driving to Valladolid, where he lived. I would stay at his place all weekend. Just thinking about it made my legs shake. I told him one thing before hanging up:

—I want it to be like the last times. I want to feel desired. And dominated.

He chuckled softly on the other end.

—That can be arranged —he replied.

***

Friday dawned hot. From first thing in the morning I started texting him, just like when we lived in the same city and counted the hours until we saw each other. I sent photos, voice notes, messages that got dirtier and dirtier. He replied with the same intensity, and when one of his messages came through telling me everything he planned to do to me, I couldn’t take it. I locked myself in the bedroom, lay down naked, and touched myself while listening to that audio over and over until I came.

At five in the afternoon I finally got in the car and left. Halfway there I picked the messages back up, telling him where I was and how horny I was. I told him I was wearing the blue strappy dress in which I’d met him. His answer came quickly:

—I want you to arrive wearing only the dress. Nothing underneath. No panties.

I read that at a traffic light and felt my face burn. I told him that if that’s what he wanted, I’d arrive like that. At the first rest area I stopped, got out of the car, and hidden between two vans, started taking off my underwear. They were wet from thinking about him so much. But just then a truck pulled in and I hurriedly pulled them back up, dying of embarrassment, not knowing whether the driver had seen anything. I set off again, this time with my panties still on and my heart racing.

It was after seven when I arrived in Valladolid. I parked near his building, took out the small suitcase with just enough for the weekend, and walked down the street with shaky legs. I buzzed him and he didn’t need to think about it.

—Yes? —that was all he said, but his voice went straight through me.

—Hi, my boy. I’m here.

He let me in without another word.

***

I went up in the elevator to the second floor and, when the doors opened, his apartment door was already ajar. I couldn’t see him, but I could make out his silhouette behind it. I stepped in, dragging the suitcase, and when I turned to close the door I found him leaning against the wall, completely naked.

I put my free hand to my mouth.

—Good God, what a blessing —I blurted out, unable to look away from him.

He closed the door, came closer slowly, and wrapped his arms around me.

—I’ve wanted to have you here again so badly —he murmured against my hair.

—Me too —I managed to say before his mouth closed over mine.

He kissed me as if he wanted to recover the six lost months in a single kiss. One hand ran down my back, the other took my suitcase and dropped it aside. He pulled away for barely a second.

—Look how worked up you already have me —he said, and I felt his body pressed tight against mine.

—I can feel it —I answered in a breathless whisper.

He gripped me hard and lifted me a few inches off the floor while kissing me again. When I realized it, my back was against the hallway wall. He set me down again, took my chin, and looked me in the eyes.

—Are you ready for what comes next?

I could only answer with a muffled moan. His hands slid under the dress and, suddenly, stopped. He smiled crookedly.

—You’ve been a bad girl. You came wearing panties. That’s unforgivable.

I blushed with embarrassment and excitement at the same time. He yanked the dress over my head in one pull and left me standing against the wall, wearing only the underwear he had forbidden me to wear. He looked me over from head to toe, unhurried, enjoying my discomfort. Then he turned me to face the wall.

The first slap made me jerk. The second drew a moan from me. He pressed against my back, put his mouth to my ear, and whispered:

—Let’s begin. And I expect you to keep being my hot woman, like always.

He started kissing my neck, which is exactly where he knows I melt. One hand climbed to my breast and the other slid down my stomach to stroke me over the already soaked fabric. All I could do was rest my forehead against the wall and breathe in short, ragged bursts, letting him do as he pleased.

***

What came after was a whirlwind. He dragged me, still not letting go, into the bedroom, laid me on the bed, and climbed on top of me. He finally tore off my underwear and parted my legs with his knee. He entered me slowly, looking into my eyes, and I still remember the long sigh that escaped me when I felt him all the way inside. I had missed him so much I almost wanted to cry from sheer relief.

He started with a slow, almost cruel rhythm, making me feel every inch before pulling out. I dug my nails into his back, begged for more with my hips, and he laughed at my desperation.

—You wanted it, huh? Tell me how much you wanted it.

—So much —I panted—. You have no idea how much.

Then he stopped playing. He drove into me hard, holding my wrists down against the mattress, and the room filled with the sound of our bodies and my moans. I came like that, with him inside me, trembling from head to toe, unable to hold back a cry that must surely have been heard all the way in the landing. He held out a little longer, until with the last thrusts he emptied himself inside me and went still, his forehead resting on my shoulder.

We stayed wrapped around each other, catching our breath, laughing like little kids.

***

Later we decided to have something light for dinner and watch a movie. None of them appealed to us, so Adrián picked some random one and we sprawled on the sofa, me with my head resting on his chest. We stayed still until about halfway through. Then his hand began teasing my breast over the dress I had put back on.

—Keep still and don’t do your usual thing —I protested, not very convincingly.

He stopped for a while. Ten minutes later the hand was back, this time sliding down my stomach and slipping between my legs. He stroked me over my clothes while pretending to watch the screen, and all my heat came flooding back at once. I didn’t last long. I sat up and faced him.

—Is this what you want? Then get ready.

I slid to the floor, yanked down his shorts and underwear in one pull, and found him already hard. I took him firmly and started licking him slowly, looking him in the eyes. He threw his head back.

—You’ve got such a fucking mouth —he murmured, tangling his fingers in my hair.

He guided my head, setting the pace, thrusting deep, until I had to pull back to breathe. I stood up, took off my panties myself, and straddled him. I lowered myself slowly, feeling him make his way in, and stayed still for a few seconds, kissing him while he held me tightly by the hips.

It was him who started moving me, lifting me just enough to let me fall back down. I rode him until I set the rhythm, faster and faster, not wanting it to end, until a second orgasm shook me from head to toe and left me trembling against his chest.

***

Without leaving me, he sat up with me in his arms, showing off a strength that has always undone me, and kept pounding me standing in the middle of the living room. Then he took me to the bedroom and laid me down carefully, picking up the rhythm again on top of me. He was hitting me so hard the bed knocked against the wall and I felt like a doll at his mercy, until with one last thrust he spilled inside and collapsed beside me.

I got up to clean myself off for a moment. When I came back, he was still awake, waiting for me again, ready. I didn’t need to be asked twice: I went straight down to prepare him with my mouth before climbing back on top of him. That second round was slower, more intimate, full of kisses on the neck and his words in my ear telling me how incredible I was. He ended up putting me on all fours and entering me in one single thrust that tore the usual moan from me. In the bedroom there was nothing but the sound of our bodies colliding and my gasps.

—Fuck, that’s so good, keep going —I begged him—, don’t stop.

I reached an orgasm that left me collapsing onto the mattress. He held on for a few more seconds, gripping my hips, until he emptied himself again. We ended up exhausted, wrapped around each other, and fell asleep without even realizing it. I was shattered from the trip and the week of work, but happier than I had felt in months.

***

I woke at dawn to close the bedroom door so I could keep sleeping. Before getting back into bed I stood there looking at him for a moment, the sheet tangled around my legs, and I couldn’t help glancing down.

Good God, he’s still hard even asleep. I have no idea how I’m going to survive this weekend.

I laughed to myself and curled up against him.

We woke after eleven. Adrián, still half asleep, asked me what I wanted for breakfast. I answered by taking him in my hand under the sheet.

—This. This is going to be my breakfast.

I went down without any further preamble and started eating him slowly. At first he was stroking my back, my hair, distracted. But as his breathing quickened he stopped caressing me and started holding my head, setting the pace himself, until I was no longer the one in control. He finished like that, with a rough groan, and I didn’t pull away until I had swallowed the last drop.

Far from calming him down, that only made him hotter. He threw himself over me, ran his mouth over my breasts, and as soon as he felt I was ready, put me back on all fours in front of the headboard. I gripped it with both hands while he entered me slowly, with the difficulty of the first time that day, and as soon as he was inside he landed a loud slap on my ass.

—Now that’s a way to start the morning —he said.

We had barely been awake for a few minutes and I was already being taken again. Without having eaten anything, he found strength from somewhere to keep a steady, hard pace, while all I could do was keep repeating for him not to stop. I reached the first orgasm of the day with my whole body shaking, barely able to hold myself up, but he held me firm by the hips and kept going until he emptied himself inside me.

At last we got up to wash. We had a proper breakfast, because we were going to need it, and went out for a walk to buy what we needed for the rest of the weekend. Walking hand in hand through his neighborhood, with my legs still weak and a stupid smile on my face, I thought I had done the right thing in crossing three provinces for him. And that this was only the beginning of a weekend I had no intention of forgetting.