My Roommate Discovered My More Feminine Side

I look like any other man, though I know I don’t quite fit that mold. I like women, that much is true, but there’s a part of me that only settles down when I imagine myself in a man’s arms, caressed, held, desired. It’s something I’ve carried with me for years and that almost no one knows about.

I have a thin, hairless body, naturally smooth. I shave off the little that grows and soften my skin with cream every night. I like how I look that way: sleek, smooth, almost feminine under the warm bathroom light.

In the privacy of my apartment I transform. I put on women’s underwear, sheer stockings, a black garter belt I bought online with my heart racing. I look at myself in the full-length mirror and recognize myself better in that image than in any other. That’s how I truly feel.

I had never shown that side to anyone. I kept that secret locked away, among shut drawers and lonely nights. Until that convention came along.

***

The company organized a several-day gathering every year for all the staff, and that time they held it at a seaside resort on the coast. We were assigned double rooms, two people per room, and I ended up sharing with someone who had recently joined the company.

His name was Damián. A mature man, in his early forties, tall, with well-groomed gray hair and an easy smile. Kind, talkative, with that calm confidence that comes with age. We barely said hello when we arrived, unpacked our bags, and each of us went off to our activities. We didn’t exchange more than four sentences.

The first night I got back to the room early, exhausted. I took a long shower, put on a small pair of sleep shorts, and got into bed. I was half asleep when I heard him come in carefully, making no noise. I didn’t open my eyes.

The second day was the closing event. There was a toast that turned into a party, because the mood was cheerful and the alcohol flowed freely. I drank more than I should have, and at some point I felt dizzy, so I decided to call it a night.

I went back to the room, showered again to clear my head, put on my usual shorts, and lay down on the bed. Damián was still downstairs. Before leaving I’d seen him laughing with a group, dancing with a couple of coworkers, flirting with one of them. I thought maybe he wouldn’t even come back to sleep that night.

I fell asleep without realizing it.

***

I don’t know how much time passed. The noise of the door opening woke me. In the dim light I saw Damián come in with an unsteady step, a glass of liquor in his hand. He walked toward his bed and, with terrible luck, tripped and spilled almost all of it onto the sheets. He muttered a curse under his breath and began feeling the mattress.

—Shit —he murmured—. It’s soaked.

I watched everything with half-closed eyes, pretending to sleep. After a moment he came up to my bed and spoke softly.

—Hey, buddy —he said gently—. Mind making room for me? My bed got wet and there’s no way I can sleep there.

I could have told him no. I could have suggested he call reception to have the sheets changed, or ask for another room. It was three in the morning, but something could have been done.

I did none of that.

Instead I moved over and made space for him. The beds were wide, big ones, plenty of room for the two of us. Why did I do it? Was it really just courtesy?

During the party I’d looked at him more closely. Mature, yes, but with a firm, elegant body, well shaved, impeccably dressed. That morning, when he’d left the room, he’d left behind the scent of an expensive cologne. I found him attractive, and I told myself it would be rude to leave him stranded at that hour. That’s what I told myself.

—Thanks —he whispered, and started taking off his clothes.

Being respectful, I turned my back to him and arranged my pillow as if I were going back to sleep. I felt the weight of his body sink into the mattress, the rustle of the sheets, and then his scent reached me, mixed with the sweet breath of alcohol.

He started talking to me in a murmur. He had a deep, masculine voice, one of those voices that slowly get under your skin. He commented on the meeting, the people he’d met, the night’s anecdotes. I answered with monosyllables, pretending sleep was winning. The truth was different: I was aroused, every part of me on alert from having a man like that so close.

After praising one coworker and another, he asked me directly:

—And you? Which of the girls do you like?

I stayed silent. Silence filled the whole room.

***

Then what I feared most happened. Or what I most desired, I wasn’t sure of the difference anymore.

Damián moved closer. His voice dropped until it was barely a thread by my nape.

—You know? I’ve been watching you —he said—. Last night, when I got in, you were asleep. It was hot and you’d kicked the sheets off. I couldn’t stop looking at you. With those tiny shorts on, your legs looked beautiful. And the rest too.

—Don’t keep going, please —I begged in a thin voice—. You’re drunk.

He came even closer. I was still facing the wall, too afraid to turn around.

—Don’t take this the wrong way —he continued—. I have a gift for knowing when someone likes me, whether it’s a woman or a man. And I know you’d like me to hold you, to kiss you. —He paused—. Besides, I like you too.

With every word he shortened the distance. I, trembling, moved toward the edge of the bed, with no courage to stop him or confront him.

—Come on —he insisted—. Let yourself be loved. I know you want it.

Suddenly he wrapped one arm around me from behind and pulled me against his body. That was when I understood: he was completely naked. I felt his skin against mine, the rough hair on his chest against my back. I went rigid, frozen with surprise, eyes wide, and a small gasp of fright escaped me.

He pressed his mouth to my ear and began speaking softly. I didn’t even register the words. The sensation was pleasurable and terrifying at once. One hand held my waist while he pressed his legs against mine.

I felt like I was dying of shame, modesty, anxiety, and desire, all tangled together. I wanted to get up and run, but my body wouldn’t respond, as if one part of me had decided for the other and was keeping me still on purpose.

***

He brought his pelvis to my backside and I felt the hard bulge of his sex against me. Another moan escaped me, this time involuntary, and that seemed to excite him even more. He started kissing my neck, running an open palm along my legs, while all I could do was breathe hard.

He slid his hand inside my shorts and took hold of me gently. He began to stroke me while continuing to whisper things in my ear, a thousand things tangled up with his warm breath. He kept at it for a good while and I let him, too weak now to resist, surrendered to that voice and that hand.

He tugged my shorts down and, when they reached my knees, I was the one who kicked them off the rest of the way.

—That’s it —he murmured, pleased.

He slipped his right arm under my body to hold me and take me again from the front, and with his left hand he caressed my ass: kneading it, squeezing it, tracing every inch while his mouth stayed on my neck and nape. He had me hypnotized. It was the most intense sensation of my entire life: feeling myself dominated by a man who delighted in every inch of my skin.

After a while, completely naked and given over to him, he pulled away for a moment. He half sat up, placed a cushion behind his back, and leaned against the headboard. Then he guided me to straddle him, my legs on either side of his body, and drew me toward him as if I were fragile. With both hands he took my ass again, kneading it, squeezing it, and I let my head fall on his shoulder, abandoned.

One of his hands searched lower, between my legs, and began to feel for my opening. I jolted, but he hugged me tighter to calm me. He reached for a jar of cream that, conveniently, had appeared on the nightstand, and carefully coated me. He alternated the movements: one hand caressed me, the other prepared me with patience, slowly, without rushing.

When he felt I was ready, he spread some on himself too and guided me little by little. He lined up and, with slow, firm pressure, began to enter. I felt pleasure mixed with a stab of pain that quickly melted away. I sank down millimeter by millimeter until my thighs rested on his.

We stayed still for a moment. Then he began a gentle sway, almost rocking, and the discomfort became imperceptible.

***

He made me lie on my side, facing each other, without separating. He set a slow rhythm, pulling out only slightly before sinking back in, and sighs kept escaping me that I no longer tried to hold back. Then he turned me onto my stomach and settled over me; the feeling of his weight on me, of being completely covered, drove me mad.

He moved with a steady rhythm while I came undone beneath him, floating in that instant of pure pleasure. I was fascinated by surrendering like that, by letting him have control, by being the object of his desire and nothing else.

The moment came when he clung to me hard, tensed his whole body, and with a long shudder reached climax inside me. He stayed still for a while, still joined to my body, catching his breath over my back. Then he withdrew slowly, with a deep sigh.

I didn’t even want to move. I was in a kind of trance, exhausted and happy at the same time. I had fallen helpless before a man who had seduced, dominated, and possessed me in a single night, and the most disturbing part was that I had liked all of it. Every caress, every word in my ear, every second of that surrender.

I stayed face down, breathing slowly, still feeling the heat of what had just happened. I turned my head and looked at Damián, who was already sleeping deeply, oblivious to the whirlwind he had unleashed in me.

I curled up beside him. I tenderly stroked his chest, his belly, while he breathed peacefully. I rested my head on his shoulder and lifted one leg over his, seeking his warmth.

I thought of my locked drawers, of the stockings and garter belt stored at home, of all those years of secrecy. That night, for the first time, someone had seen the person I truly was, and instead of running away, had wanted to stay.

I closed my eyes with a smile and let sleep take me, pressed against the body of the man who, without knowing it, had given me permission to be myself.