My Boss Caught Me as a Cross-Dresser at a Club

Tomás walked into Río Norte Tower at seven fifty-five, punctual as a Swiss watch. Dark blue suit two sizes too big, light blue shirt buttoned to the neck, short, neat hair. No one suspected that underneath he was wearing a black lace bodysuit that hugged his small breasts, or that the loose trousers hid fishnet stockings up to the groin and a thread-thin thong that wedged between his ass cheeks with every step.

In locker number one hundred and eighty-four at the basement gym, he left the hard-sided suitcase every morning. The same one he picked up on the way out, after six.

That afternoon he changed in the accessible bathroom at Costanera Mall. He locked the door, opened the suitcase, and took a deep breath. First he took everything off. He stood naked in front of the mirror: olive skin, golden, not a single hair since he was sixteen. Firm breasts, a narrow waist, wide hips, and a round, high ass that turned heads in the street even dressed as a man. Between his legs, his small pink sex, always half-awake from the hormones he’d been taking since he was fourteen.

He put on the tight black dress, with sheer mesh at the sides. No bra: the dark nipples showed through perfectly. Underneath, only a red lace thong and twelve-centimeter heels that lengthened his legs. Black eyeliner, false lashes, dark red lips. His hair loose, wavy, halfway down his back.

He was no longer Tomás, senior emerging-markets analyst.

He was Nadia.

***

She walked along the Rambla feeling the cool air on her thighs, the wet thong rubbing her sex with every step. Adrenaline climbed through her until she was dizzy. A taxi dropped her at the back door of El Reflejo, the club that operated beneath the old Hotel Lumière and admitted only members and invited guests.

Inside, it smelled of expensive perfume and desire. Purple lights, mirrors on every wall, half-dressed bodies moving to the beat of the bass. Nadia had barely crossed the velvet curtain when she felt the first hands. A gray-haired man in a suit brushed her waist as he passed. Another, younger one, whispered something about her ass in her ear while squeezing one cheek. She smiled and kept walking, swaying her hips.

At the bar she ordered a gin and tonic. She didn’t get to taste it: a tall, dark man with his white shirt open came up behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist.

—I saw you come in and I already imagined everything —he told her in her ear, his voice deep.

Nadia turned her face, looked at him with those honey-colored eyes inherited from her Lebanese mother, and answered:

—Then stop imagining and do it for real.

***

Five minutes later they were in one of the dark back rooms. He shoved her against the padded wall, hiked her dress up to her waist, and let out a growl when he saw the red thong buried between her buttocks.

—Look at this ass —he said, dropping to his knees.

He yanked the thong down and buried his face between her glutes. Nadia panted when she felt the hot tongue opening her. Two fingers went in without warning, curling, searching for that spot that made her shiver.

—You’re soaking —he said, getting to his feet.

He took off his trousers, pressed his hard sex against the already-lubricated entrance, and thrust in all at once. Nadia screamed. She felt full, split open, used exactly the way she wanted. He grabbed her hips and started moving hard; every stroke made her breasts bounce and her heels scrape the floor.

—Tell me what you are —he ordered, pulling her hair.

—Yours —Nadia moaned—. I’m yours and I’m dying for more.

He turned her around, put her on her knees, and shoved it into her mouth to the hilt. Nadia relaxed her throat and let him do it, while she touched her small sex, which was dripping like never before.

She was about to come when the door flew open.

***

There was Esteban.

Esteban, head of Treasury. The same man who that morning had asked her for the rate-curve report in a dry, professional tone. Esteban, eyes wide, watching Nadia with a cock in her mouth and the other hand between her legs.

The man fucking her froze. Nadia did not.

She took the cock out of her mouth slowly, a thread of saliva hanging from her red lips, and looked Esteban straight in the eyes.

—Hi, Esteban —she said in a rough, calm voice—. Close the door, please.

Esteban didn’t move.

Nadia stood up, her dress still hiked up, her ass reddened, her sex hard and shining. She took two steps toward him, heels clicking.

—Do you want to watch? Or do you want to participate?

Esteban swallowed. His eyes dropped to the marked nipples, to the dripping sex, to the other man still erect behind her.

—Tomorrow at eight thirty I have the committee meeting —Nadia whispered—. And I’m going to be sitting in front of you with the same body you have in front of you now.

She ran a finger over his lips.

—It’s up to you whether you want to keep pretending you don’t know who I am.

She turned around, braced herself against the wall, arched her back, and looked at the stranger.

—Keep going —she ordered—. And you, Esteban… decide quickly. The door locks from both sides.

***

Esteban stepped inside. The door shut with a sharp click that sounded like a gunshot in the red gloom.

He stood there, breathing hard, his white shirt immaculate, but with his fly already outlining an erection. The stranger smiled crookedly and went back to grabbing Nadia by the hips like nothing had happened.

—Shall we continue? —he asked, brushing against her.

Nadia didn’t answer with words. She pushed her ass back and took the cock in one hard thrust, moaning loudly, looking Esteban in the eye.

Esteban took another step. And another. Until he was less than a meter away. Nadia stretched out a trembling hand and touched the navy tie he was still wearing.

—Take it off —she whispered—. I want to see you without armor, boss.

Esteban obeyed. The tie fell to the floor. Then the buttons, one by one, with clumsy fingers. When he took off his shirt, Nadia saw a pale office torso, no gym, perfectly ordinary. Perfectly aroused.

The stranger pulled out abruptly and put her on her knees in front of Esteban.

—Suck it —he ordered—. I want to see you eat the boss’s cock.

Nadia smiled, lifted her gaze to Esteban, who already had his pants down and his sex pointed at the ceiling, and took him into her mouth without preamble. Esteban let out a broken moan, his hands in Nadia’s hair.

—Tomás… —he began to say, still using the office name.

Nadia pulled the cock out for a second.

—Tomás doesn’t exist here —she said—. Here only Nadia exists. And Nadia is sucking the boss’s cock while another man has her open. Do you like it?

Esteban didn’t answer. He pushed his hips forward and buried himself in her mouth again.

***

The stranger got behind her, hiked the dress all the way up, and entered her again in one thrust. Now Nadia had one cock in her mouth and another in her ass, and she was in heaven.

The two men found a rhythm almost without speaking. When one went in, the other came out. Nadia could only moan, makeup running down her cheeks, throat open, ass clenching and releasing as if she had been born for this.

—Look at her swallowing —the stranger said, slapping her ass with a crack that echoed through the room.

Esteban, lost, grabbed her head with both hands.

—I always knew there was something… —he didn’t finish the sentence.

Nadia came first, without touching herself, just with the two cocks using her. The orgasm went through her whole body; she trembled from head to toe around Esteban’s cock.

That set both of them off. The stranger drove in to the hilt and emptied himself with a growl. Esteban pulled out of her mouth at the last second and finished on her face, on her red lips, her nose, her cheeks. Nadia opened her mouth to receive what she could, licking, moaning.

When they were done, the three of them stayed still for a moment, panting.

***

Esteban was the first to speak, his voice broken.

—Tomorrow… tomorrow at eight thirty…

Nadia wiped her face with the back of her hand, stood up unsteadily, and looked at him fixedly.

—Tomorrow at eight thirty I’ll be sitting in front of you in the boardroom —she said calmly—. In a gray suit, light blue shirt, like always. And you’ll look me in the eyes knowing exactly who I am.

She came closer, left a soft kiss on the corner of his lips, a red, wet trail.

—And if you want to repeat —she whispered—, you know where to find me.

She turned around, adjusted her wrinkled, stained dress, and walked out of the room swaying her hips. She went back to the bar as if nothing had happened and ordered another gin and tonic. And she smiled, because now the two worlds had not only met: they had touched, and neither would ever be the same.

***

At eight twenty-seven the next day, the nineteenth-floor meeting room was already almost full. Cold winter light through the windows, coffee in cups with the bank logo, the smell of expensive cologne and restrained tension.

Tomás entered last, as always. Ironed dark gray suit, white shirt, navy tie: the same one Esteban had left on the floor at El Reflejo. Hair combed back, not a strand out of place. No one would have imagined that twelve hours earlier that mouth had been full of semen.

He sat in his usual place, third chair to the left of the head of the table, directly across from Esteban. Esteban was already there, with slight dark circles under his eyes and a red tie he never wore. When Tomás sat down, their gazes collided for a second too long.

—Good morning —Tomás said in his neutral, professional voice, barely hoarse from a throat still irritated.

Esteban nodded, cleared his throat, and opened the folder. The meeting began.

***

Rate curves, stress tests, dollar liquidity, political noise. Everything fast and dry. Tomás presented with his usual calm, firm voice, hands steady. No one noticed that under his loose trousers he was wearing black lace stockings up to mid-thigh and that the red thong from the previous night was rubbing his sex every time he moved.

Esteban tried to concentrate. But every time Tomás said “market penetration” or “exposed position,” his voice cracked for a millisecond. Only a millisecond. But Tomás noticed it.

At one point, while the rate curve was being projected, Tomás crossed his legs under the table. Slowly. His black shoe brushed Esteban’s ankle, and Esteban jerked almost imperceptibly and looked forward again.

When it was time for questions, Esteban raised his hand with the firmest voice he could manage.

—Tomás, could you go deeper into the impact of a four-hundred-basis-point shock on the overnight position? —he asked, staring straight at him.

Tomás smiled faintly.

—Of course, Esteban. With a shock like that, the position opens up a lot —he said, emphasizing the word “opens” with a slight tilt of his head—. It becomes extremely vulnerable. But if it’s managed well, if you go in and out hard, the pain is brief and the payoff can be very high.

Two seconds of silence. Someone cleared their throat. No one got the private joke. Esteban shifted in his seat. Tomás noticed the erection beginning to press beneath the mahogany table.

***

The meeting went on for twenty more minutes. At the end, when everyone was gathering laptops and folders, Esteban said aloud:

—Tomás, stay a second. I need to review a stress detail.

The others left. The door closed with the same soft click as always. They were alone.

Esteban walked around the table and stood in front of Tomás, who remained seated, calm.

—What was that last night? —he asked quietly, his voice trembling.

Tomás stood up slowly. They were almost the same height. He came close until their ties almost touched.

—Last night you were the one who locked the door from the inside —he said, now in a lower voice, more Nadia than Tomás—. And you ended up on my face while another man filled me. Do you regret it?

Esteban breathed in deeply. His eyes dropped to Tomás’s lips, today with only a neutral balm, but he knew perfectly well how they looked painted red.

—No —he said at last—. I don’t regret it.

***

Tomás smiled. He placed a hand on his chest, over the heart that was pounding like crazy.

—Good —he whispered—. Because when this meeting ends I’m going to the executives’ bathroom on the twenty-first floor. The last stall. Five minutes after I go in, you’re going to knock twice. And you’re going to come in.

—And if someone…? —Esteban began.

—No one’s going to come in —Tomás cut him off—. And if they do, they’ll see exactly what you saw last night: the head of Treasury with the bank’s brightest analyst against the wall.

He brushed the fly of his trousers with the back of his hand. Esteban was already hard.

—Or on the floor. Or on your knees. Depending on how long it takes you to decide.

He stepped away, gathered his laptop, and walked to the door. Before opening it, he turned back.

—Oh, and Esteban… I’ll send you the updated report before noon. As always.

He left.

***

Esteban stood alone in the room, breathing hard, staring at the closed door.

Five and a half minutes later he knocked twice on the door of the last stall in the executives’ bathroom. The door opened from inside. And Tomás, with his shirt unbuttoned to the waist, the black lace bra visible and his sex already hard beneath the red thong, pulled him in and locked it.

Because now the two worlds had not only met. They were looking for each other during office hours. And neither wanted to stop.