The Deal I Closed with a Mature Businessman

I’m back with a story I’d never dared to write before. It happened a couple of years ago, at the beginning of spring. Back then I was signed up on one of those apps for meeting people that market themselves as exclusive: almost all the men on there have money, because the monthly membership costs a small fortune and that, I suppose, filters out the looky-loos.

I joined out of boredom and curiosity. By day I work as a professional, I lead an orderly life, and the idea of opening a window onto another world seemed like a game. Also, I confess, I was intrigued by the possibility of making some money. Not because I needed it, but to see how far that fantasy I’d so often indulged in alone could go.

That’s where Andrés showed up. That’s not his real name, but that’s what I’ll call him. A mature man, in his forties, though he looked better than many men in their thirties. Tall, close to six-foot-three, slim but solid, with dark hair and just a few gray hairs at the temples. He wasn’t handsome in the classic sense, but he had the kind of class that only years and a good suit can give. He was in business, something in real estate, he told me.

He made the first move. He wrote to me, I answered, and we fell into the usual conversation: what was I doing there, what was I looking for, those questions everyone repeats like a script. We talked by message throughout the day, unhurriedly, sizing each other up.

One afternoon I decided to look him up on social media and got a surprise that chilled me to the bone: we had a mutual contact. And not just anyone, but one of the partners at the company where I work. I felt a mix of panic and, I admit, pure adrenaline.

—Andrés, we have a mutual acquaintance —I wrote, my heart in my throat.

—Who? Let me look... —he replied.

—Ah, yes, I know him, we’ve even crossed paths. But don’t worry, I’ll be a vault. It’s not in my interest for this to get out either —he added right away.

—Are you sure? —I wrote, biting my lip—. The truth is, that makes it even hotter for me. But I’m a respectable girl, I take care of my image. Lady by day, something else by night.

—Relax, Renata. This stays between us.

That promise of discretion, instead of calming me, only turned me on more.

***

We agreed to meet. He gave me the address of an apartment he had on one of the city’s most exclusive avenues, in a mixed-use building: on the ground floor, shops and restaurants; above, apartments. The choice was perfect because with so much foot traffic, if anyone saw me go in, I could calmly say I was going to eat at one of the places downstairs.

I was already carrying a bad experience from that kind of encounter. The previous time, the man who showed up looked nothing like the photos on his profile, and my distrust made me turn around and leave. I only lost the afternoon, without doing anything and without getting paid a cent. So this time I set my conditions from the start.

—Hey, one thing: everything upfront —I wrote him, half joking, half serious.

—Of course, don’t worry. I’ll transfer you part of it now and give you the rest in cash when you get here.

And he did. He advanced me a good chunk of what we’d agreed on without my having to ask twice. That gave me confidence. A man who pays before he starts is a man who knows what he wants.

***

I got to the building at nightfall and let him know I was downstairs.

—I’m already upstairs too. Come up, I’m waiting for you —he answered.

Like an obedient little girl, I took the elevator, walked down the hall, and knocked on the door. He opened it, and the surprise was pleasant: he was even taller and more imposing than he’d seemed in the photos. This one’s going to leave me a good memory and some cash too, I thought as I smiled at him.

The apartment was beautiful, tastefully decorated, understated and expensive. In the bedroom there was a huge bed and, to one side, a two-seater sofa where he sat after letting me in. We started talking to shake off the nerves. I was wearing a short, tight black dress, matching underwear, and I felt sexy, in control of the situation.

I walked to the sofa and sat on his lap without stopping talking. He looked at me with a calm that was disarming. He leaned in and kissed me, slowly, with his big hands resting on my thighs. That kiss lit me up from within, and when I shifted I felt, beneath my body, how his erection was growing. That drove me wild.

I tried to keep up my role as a refined, experienced woman, that character I’d rehearsed so many times in my head while watching movies alone and mentally taking notes on what I would one day want to try. But reality was better than rehearsal.

We kept kissing for a good while, hungrier and hungrier. His hands started to pry my legs apart with a firmness that admitted no argument. His fingers reached the fabric of my underwear and began moving in slow circles right where I needed it most. I was already completely soaked.

He pushed the fabric aside and I felt the direct touch of his fingertips. He kept up those circles, setting a rhythm that made me arch my back against him. He took advantage of that arch to sink two fingers into me, little by little, until they were all the way inside. I was moaning softly, rubbing the hard bulge through his pants.

I couldn’t take it anymore. With both hands I loosened his belt, unbuttoned his pants, and pulled down the zipper. I reached in and found him exactly as I’d imagined: long and thick, with prominent veins that my fingers traced from top to bottom. I hadn’t even seen it yet and I already knew I was going to like it.

***

He lifted me up and laid me back on the bed in a position where my head hung off the edge of the mattress. He took advantage of that to bring his sex close to my mouth while, from above, he opened my legs again and played with his fingers. I took him in on pure instinct, opening my mouth.

In that position I had no control at all. He set the pace, pushing all the way to the back of my throat and pulling out, again and again. Tears sprang to my eyes and yet I was in a kind of trance, given over completely, not wanting him to stop.

He leaned back, turned me over, finished taking off my last piece of clothing, and put on a condom. He fucked me from behind. I felt every thrust reach the deepest part of me, his body coming in and out with a cadence that mixed force and technique.

He held me by the hair, put a hand on my nape, gave me a few smacks, and all I could do was moan and keep telling him not to stop. I felt like the most desired woman in the world and, at the same time, the most surrendered, lost in every slam of his hips.

Then he lay back on the bed, still hard, and I invited myself to climb on top of him. I settled over him, almost squatting, so I could move freely up and down. I lifted my arms so he could take off my dress, stripped off the rest of my clothes, and started riding him like someone mounting without a brake.

I dropped down hard while watching his eyes narrow and his breathing turn irregular. Until I felt that unmistakable tremor that warns the end is near.

I got up, removed the condom, and finished him with my mouth, because I wanted to feel that warm, thick release until the very last moment. Then I parted my lips in front of him so he could see there was nothing left, kissed him, and let myself fall beside him, exhausted and satisfied.

***

Andrés got up to shower. He came out already dressed, took out a black box, and left it on the bed.

—I have to go —he said, fastening his watch—. Stay as long as you want.

I opened it. Inside was the rest of the agreed-upon money, wrapped with a red ribbon, like a gift. That detail, the way he presented it, made me feel powerful and desired in a way I hadn’t expected.

I stood up, went through the shower, got dressed, and left the building pretending I was coming back from dinner, blending in with the people from the restaurants downstairs.

Now that I’m writing all this, every detail comes back to my head, every image from that night, and I can see that the memory still turns me on just as much as it did then. There are encounters you pay for with money and, even so, you end up taking home much more than you were paid.

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