The dark-haired girl on the unlit corner changed my night

It was close to two in the morning and I was driving aimlessly along one of the avenues I know by heart. I’d gone out to clear my head after a long week, with the radio low and the window barely open. At that hour the city becomes something else: empty sidewalks, traffic lights blinking yellow, the asphalt still warm.

I reached a corner with very little light, almost dark, and turned left. The car’s headlights swept the sidewalk and then I saw her for the first time. A tall dark-haired girl with very long legs, standing against a wall in a pose that left no room for doubt. She was offering company in exchange for a few pesos, and she did it like someone who knows perfectly well the effect she has.

I didn’t think about it too much. I braked, rolled down the window, and leaned out.

—Are you cold standing there? —I asked her, more to break the ice than anything else.

—Depends who’s asking —she answered, bending down to the level of the window.

She had a wicked smile, dark eyes heavily lined, and a deep, soft voice at the same time that sent a shiver up my neck. We exchanged a couple of words, I asked the price, she said it straight out, and between glances and smiles I ended up inviting her to spend some time with me. She opened the passenger door and got in as if the car were hers.

—I’m Bianca —she said, adjusting her dress over her thighs.

—Martín —I lied, more or less, because by then I hardly cared about anything except the perfume she’d brought with her.

I asked her where we could go and she pointed her chin toward the outskirts. She knew an open, wooded lot, far from downtown, where local people go looking for privacy. Here everyone calls it “the little woods,” a silly name for a dark, quiet place, perfect for not being seen. I drove the few kilometers while she talked to me about anything at all, resting a hand on my leg that moved up and down with calculated slowness, inching closer and closer to my fly, until her fingers brushed without any attempt at innocence the bulge already forming in my pants.

I parked beneath some trees, away from the road. I switched off the headlights and the world shrank to the inside of the car and the sound of our breathing.

—Come back here —she said, and moved to the back seat before I could answer.

I followed her. As soon as I sat down, her hands were already on me. We started kissing slowly and then not so slowly, while our hands roamed over each other’s bodies through our clothes. I touched her waist, her back, her firm, warm legs. She bit my lip and dug her nails into my neck, and I felt that night was going to be one of those you never forget. Everything looked perfect.

And right at that moment, at the best part, Bianca stopped. She pressed a hand to my chest to put some distance between us and looked at me with a new seriousness.

—You noticed, didn’t you? —she asked.

—Noticed what? —I answered, genuinely confused.

Without saying anything else, she took my wrist and brought my hand between her legs.

What a surprise.

There, under the fabric of the dress, was a hard cock growing as slowly as I took to react. The stunning dark-haired girl who had dazzled me with her figure that night was a trans woman, and the discovery hit me like a bucket of ice water.

***

For a second I didn’t know what to do. I thought about throwing her out of the car, cursing her out, starting the engine and going home as if none of it had happened. My heart was pounding against my ribs and my head was a whirlwind. But at the same time, part of me hadn’t let go of her hand. More than that: my fingers, almost on their own, were still glued to that warm cock over the panties, measuring it, getting to know it, feeling it pulse.

I looked all around. I made sure there wasn’t anyone nearby, no car, no shadow. Only then did I speak.

—So what do we do now? —I asked, and my own question surprised me more than it did her.

Bianca didn’t answer with words. She leaned over my lap, unfastened my pants with calm dexterity, yanked my boxer briefs down, and my cock sprang out, hard and already dripping at the tip. Before doing anything else, she murmured:

—It’s not the end of the world.

And then she started sucking me, deep and unhurried, as if we had the whole night ahead of us. She took the whole thing into her mouth at once, until I felt the tip bump against the back of her throat, and stayed there, squeezing me with her tongue from below, swallowing saliva around my cock. I threw my head back against the seat and stopped thinking. Whatever happens, happens, I told myself. The sensation wiped out in one stroke all the doubts that had crossed my mind a minute before.

Her mouth knew exactly what to do. She moved up and down with a rhythm that stole my breath, closed her lips tight around the shaft, and went back down, drooling over my balls. She stuck out her tongue and licked me from the base to the head, slowly, and then spat on the tip and swallowed me again whole. She stopped just when I felt I couldn’t take it anymore, squeezed the base with her hand so I wouldn’t come yet, and looked up at me with a whore’s smile that knows exactly what it’s doing.

—Not yet —she told me, her voice hoarse, a thread of spit hanging from her chin—. We’ve just started.

I grabbed her hair, dark and thick, wound it around my fist and guided her downward, fucking her mouth slowly, pushing her hips against her face. She took it, moaning with a mouthful, while she held my balls with her other hand and massaged them. Every so often she looked up, eyes glazed and shining in the dimness, and those eyes finished driving me insane.

After a while she straightened up, wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, opened her purse and took out a tube of lube and a couple of condoms. She looked over her shoulder as she settled herself on her knees on the seat, her back to me, and lifted her dress up to her waist. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath except her panties pulled off to one side; her ass opened up round and white in the darkness, and between her legs her cock hung hard, pointing toward the seat.

—Come here —she said simply, and spread one cheek with her hand so I could see her hole shining with lube.

I was still hot, and looking at her like that from behind, with that narrow waist and those hips, all my head registered was a woman asking me to fuck her. I put on the rubber with clumsy fingers, squeezed a generous amount of lube into my palm and smeared her ass, sliding one finger in first, then two, feeling how she opened around my knuckles. She moaned and pushed back against my hand. I coated my cock with what was left in my palm and pressed the head against that tight ring.

I started slowly, carefully, testing the waters. It was hard at first. She breathed deeply, asked me to take it easy, and I did. I felt the resistance, the head of my cock forcing its way in, that incredible heat squeezing me. Little by little I went in, a centimeter, two, three, until suddenly she gave way and swallowed me whole, and I was completely inside, my balls pressed against her ass. Bianca let out a long, guttural moan and pushed back, asking for more.

—Fuck me hard —she panted—, that’s it, come on, tear me up.

I grabbed her waist with both hands and started moving, first with short thrusts and then deeper ones, pulling almost all the way out and sliding back in at once. Her ass clamped around me like a hot, wet fist, and every time I went in deep she moaned and arched her back. I watched my cock go in and out of her open hole, shining with lube, and couldn’t believe what was happening. She matched every movement, pushing back with her hips, moaning, telling me not to stop, to give her more, that I was hers.

***

At some point the strain of the awkward angle got to me. I sat down in the seat and she, without being asked, climbed on top of me facing away, grabbing my cock with one hand and guiding it to her ass. This time she took me without effort, sitting down in one clean drop all the way to the hilt, as if her body had already gotten used to mine, and started riding me with an intensity that left me pinned against the backrest.

She went up and down with a force I hadn’t expected, bracing her hands on my knees to gain momentum, dropping her full weight onto my cock. I could see her ass opening and closing around me with each descent, wet sounds, the skin of her cheeks slapping against my thighs. The car moved with us, the windows fogged up. I grabbed her hips and helped her bounce faster, and with my other hand I grabbed the cock bouncing against her belly, hard and dripping, and started jerking her off in rhythm with the thrusts.

—Like that, like that, don’t stop, make me come —she moaned, throwing her head back over my shoulder, mouth open, voice breaking.

She moaned without holding back; by then she no longer cared if anyone heard. Neither did I. I went along with her, feeling her ass tightening around my cock every time her climax got closer, until I finished first, driving myself in to the hilt, unloading into the rubber with a grunt, exhausted, my breathing ragged and my body limp.

We stayed silent. Bianca sat beside me, my seed still inside the condom dripping between her legs, I lit a cigarette and lowered the window a little so air could get in. She stroked the nape of my neck with a tenderness I hadn’t expected, and I felt strange. Not guilty, but because I’d never been with someone like her and I didn’t quite know what to do with everything I was feeling. She seemed strange too, quiet, as if something were missing.

—What’s wrong? —I asked her.

—Nothing —she said, and after a silence—: I’m still horny. I didn’t come.

I looked at her. She was right: beneath the dress, her cock was still hard, pressing against the fabric. And there, smoking, looking at her from the side in the dimness, I felt a curiosity I had never allowed myself. I crushed the cigarette in the ashtray.

I can’t explain why. I only know I looked all around again, made sure once more that we were alone, and leaned over her. I lifted her dress, pulled her panties aside, and her cock sprang up in front of my face, thick, with a purple head and a drop of liquid glistening at the tip. What a little while before had seemed like the end of the world now felt like an invitation.

I took it into my mouth without thinking too much, awkward at first, choking when I tried to go too deep, finding the rhythm afterward. I felt it pulse against my tongue, hot, salty. Bianca held her breath, surprised, and tangled her fingers in my hair.

—You don’t have to do that —she whispered, but she didn’t push me away; quite the opposite: she gently pushed my head down.

—I want to —I said, pulling it out of my mouth for a second, and it was true.

I went back to sucking her, copying what she had done to me, closing my lips tight around the shaft, playing with my tongue over the head, swallowing her as far as I could. I grabbed her balls with one hand and kneaded them slowly. She started moaning softly, pressing her pelvis against my face, and I let myself go, mouth full, letting my throat be fucked at the rhythm she set.

***

What came after, I decided myself, though to this day I still don’t know exactly where that decision came from. I let her cock slip out of my mouth with a thread of saliva and settled myself on the seat on my knees, facing away from her, pulling my pants down to my ankles. She understood immediately. She took the lube again and spread it over my ass with a delicacy that contrasted with the whole roughness of the night, sliding one finger in first, then two, circling them, opening me up. I didn’t say anything; I just felt my own body give way, a new heat rising from my stomach. I imagined what was coming and, far from stopping me, that anticipation had me hard again.

She put on another condom, lubed her cock well, and gently made my hips turn. She came in slowly, pressing the head against my hole and pushing little by little, attentive to every reaction of mine. I clenched my teeth against the pain at first, silent, letting out only the faintest groan when the head passed the ring. It felt like I was being split in two. Bianca waited for me to get used to it, still, sunk halfway in, one hand on my hip and the other on my back, soothing me.

—Breathe —she told me in my ear, bending over my back—. Relax. The worst part’s over.

I did as she said. I let out the air and felt her sink in a little more, and a little more, until I felt her all the way inside me, her pelvis pressed against my ass. And when the pain began to turn into something else, into a strange, pleasurable pressure I’d never felt before, she moved, first softly, pulling out just a little and pushing back in, then with desire, grabbing my hips with both hands and starting to fuck me for real.

Each thrust tore a moan from me that I didn’t recognize as my own. I grabbed the back of the front seat and lowered my head, letting her fuck me, feeling her cock strike a spot inside me that made me see lights. My own cock had become hard again, hanging between my legs, and she slipped a hand underneath and grabbed it, jerking me off at the same time as she was fucking me from behind.

—You’re so tight —she groaned against my nape, never stopping the thrusts—, you’re going to make me come.

She gave it to me again and again, faster and faster, her thighs slapping against my ass, the car creaking with every drive, until I felt her tense, shove herself in to the hilt, moan long and rough against my nape and finish, trembling, her cock throbbing inside the condom squeezed by my ass. She left my skin hot and wet, her fingers dug into my waist. A second later, with two or three more strokes of her hand on my cock, I came too, spraying onto the seat, emptying myself in a long spasm that left me breathless.

I stayed still for a moment, with her still inside me, panting, processing everything that had just happened. When she finally came out, slowly, I felt a strange emptiness, almost sad.

We got dressed in silence, both of us. She adjusted her dress and her hair in the rearview mirror; I buttoned my pants with my hands still trembling a little. I asked if I should take her somewhere and she asked me to drop her back on her corner, that she had to keep working.

I drove back without speaking. She looked out the window, lost in her thoughts, and I in mine. When we got to the dark corner where I’d picked her up, she stopped my hand when I took out my wallet.

—This one’s on the house —she said, and gave me back the pesos I’d paid her at the start.

Before I could answer, she opened the door, got out, and walked away quickly along the sidewalk. I watched her shrink in the mirror until the darkness of dawn swallowed her completely. I sat there for a while, the car in neutral and the money in my hand, knowing that night had changed something in me that I would no longer be able to ignore.