The Second Date on Which I Became Selene
After that first afternoon that split Adrián’s life in two, the messages did not stop. On the contrary: every night, when he turned off the light in the bedroom, the phone lit up with Bruno’s name on the screen. The conversation, which at first had been timid, grew more intimate, more shameless, more impossible to ignore.
—I can’t stop thinking about how you looked in that burgundy lace, Selene —he wrote, with a tone that felt firm even in letters—. I want to see you again. I want all of you.
Adrián reread those messages again and again, his heart hammering against his ribs. At first he replied with short phrases, almost ashamed, deleting each word twice before sending it. But Bruno’s confidence, that way of saying things without asking permission, gradually disarmed him. There was something about knowing himself desired that way, without masks or explanations, that loosened him from within.
And then he wrote as Selene. As Selene, he allowed himself things Adrián would never have dared say out loud, phrases that by day would have seemed impossible to him and that in the middle of the night came out on their own, as if they belonged to someone else living inside him who only Bruno knew how to awaken.
—Soon, Bruno. I want to give you so much more —he typed one night, feeling his body ignite just from imagining it.
***
Two weeks passed of dirty talk, of discreet photos sent from the darkness of his room, of voice notes in which Bruno’s deep voice made his skin prickle until he was left breathless. He learned to recognize the rhythm of his messages, the hours when he wrote, the way he moved from sweetness to command in a single line. Every conversation left him more convinced that this was not a passing whim.
Until, finally, they agreed on a second meeting. This time it would be at his apartment, on a Saturday night. Adrián marked the date in his head the way one counts down the days to something that frightens and excites him in equal measure.
Adrián arrived at the building with his pulse racing and a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. Inside he carried his other skin, bought in secret during those two weeks, in stores he entered while looking over his shoulder: a black satin corset, matching lace panties, long stockings with garters, and a pair of heels he had barely practiced walking in down the hallway of his house, in the dark, so no one would hear him.
He took the elevator up repeating the floor number to himself, even though it was burned into his mind. In front of the door he stood still for a second, with his finger an inch from the bell. He did not want simply to be liked. He wanted to give himself completely, without reservations, and that certainty weighed on him more than fear. He rang.
Bruno opened the door wearing a fitted T-shirt that showed off his broad chest, his firm forearms, a shadow of beard that gave him the air of a man used to getting his way. His dark eyes ran over Adrián from head to toe, blending tenderness with something much hungrier.
—Come in —he said, and the word sounded like an order wrapped in silk.
As soon as the door closed, Bruno took him by the waist and pulled him against his body. Adrián felt his warmth through the clothes, the scent of wood and clean skin.
—Tonight you’re mine, Selene —Bruno whispered against his ear.
Trembling with anticipation, Adrián could only nod. His cheeks burned.
***
The bedroom was dim, lit only by a couple of candles on the dresser. Bruno gestured toward the bathroom door with a tilt of his head, and Adrián understood without needing words. He went in with the bag, closed the door, and looked at himself in the mirror for a long moment, breathing deeply.
He dressed slowly, garment by garment, feeling how with each one the nervousness transformed into a strange kind of calm. The cold satin against his skin, the brush of lace, the firm squeeze of the corset that cut his breath a little and forced him to stand straighter. He painted his lips with an unsteady hand and touched up his makeup until the image in the mirror no longer belonged entirely to him.
When he came out again, he was no longer Adrián. He was Selene.
The corset cinched his waist and drew a new silhouette, the stockings hugged his legs like a close caress, the heels forced him to move with a different slowness, more aware of every step. Bruno was waiting seated on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, gaze fixed.
—Come here —he said, without raising his voice.
Selene moved forward slowly. The clicking of her heels echoed in the silence of the room, and each tap reminded her where she was and to whom she belonged that night. Bruno took her hand and spun her slowly, studying every detail like someone admiring something he had been waiting for a long time.
—Perfect —he murmured.
And before she could answer, he pulled her toward him and kissed her with an intensity that tore a sharp moan from the depths of her throat.
***
Bruno was dominant, but he was not rough. His large hands traveled over Selene’s body with a mix of firmness and reverence, as if he knew exactly how much pressure to apply and when to stop. He began untying the corset laces with an almost cruel slowness, loosening one loop, then another, while her breathing grew more broken.
—Take off your panties —he ordered—. Keep the stockings on.
With trembling hands, Selene obeyed. She felt exposed and, at the same time, strangely powerful under the full attention of that man. Naked except for the stockings and heels, she let him guide her to the bed and place her on her knees in front of him.
—Look at me —Bruno said.
When she lifted her gaze, he undid his belt with deliberate calm, buckle after buckle, unhurried, holding her eyes the whole time. He didn’t need to say anything: each slow gesture made it clear who held control that night. Selene felt the air thicken in her chest and, far from making her uncomfortable, that surrender lit her up like nothing ever had.
***
The first position was intense. Bruno, still half dressed, leaned over Selene while she held herself face down, hands gripping the sheets. He lifted her hips only slightly and began to prepare her with his fingers, slick with lube, with a patience that contrasted with the urgency betrayed by his breathing.
—Relax —he murmured—. I’ve got you.
Selene moaned, her voice breaking into high notes that shattered the silence. Every movement of his was precise. And when he finally entered her, she let out a muffled cry, a mix of surprise and pleasure that filled the entire room. Bruno set a slow rhythm at first, his hands squeezing her hips, guiding her back with each thrust.
—Like that, Selene —he growled—. Just like that.
She moaned uncontrollably, the sounds rising in pitch with each movement, until she no longer knew where her body ended and his began. She felt Bruno’s breath at the nape of her neck, the rough words he dropped into her ear, and found herself pushing back, seeking him, surrendering a little more with every thrust.
***
Then Bruno changed the dynamic. He turned her with an ease that left her breathless, laid her on her back, and lifted her legs onto his shoulders. The new position let him sink deeper, and Selene, eyes half closed and face flushed, let out cry after cry.
—Bruno, please… more —she begged, her voice in tatters.
He answered with a growl and sped up, his hands gripping her thighs, leaving soft marks on her skin. The bed creaked under the weight of both of them, and the air filled with the sound of bodies crashing together and her desperate moans, which she no longer tried to hold back.
***
Always in control, Bruno wanted more. He put her on all fours, a position that made her feel completely at his mercy.
—You’re mine, Selene —he said, his voice turned into a low roar.
He took her hard, one hand tangled in her hair, tugging just enough to arch her back. Selene’s moans were already uncontrollable, a mix of pleasure and absolute surrender. The undone corset hung from her body like a physical reminder of the transformation, of the before and after that separated Adrián from the woman giving herself that night.
—Yes, Bruno, don’t stop —she shrieked, her hands clawing at the sheets.
***
Exhausted but still insatiable, they changed positions one last time. Bruno sat on the edge of the bed and settled her on his lap, face to face. The lace stockings rubbed against his firm thighs, adding another layer of sensation to every movement. Selene rocked herself with desperation, guided by the hands holding her by the hips, while he looked at her with an intensity that made her feel adored and possessed at the same time.
—Look at me while you do it —Bruno ordered.
And she, lost in pleasure, obeyed. Her moans turned into short, broken gasps until both of them reached the edge almost at the same time. Selene trembled in his arms, her voice reduced to a soft sob that died against his neck.
***
When it was all over, Bruno wrapped her in a sheet. He was still dominant, but now there was a new tenderness in his gestures, in the hand that caressed her back while she caught her breath.
—You’re incredible, Selene —he whispered.
And she, with a shy smile she could not quite believe herself, curled up against his chest. She listened to Bruno’s heartbeat beneath her cheek, still racing, and felt it gradually calm. For the first time in a long time, there was nothing to hide and nothing to pretend.
Outside, the city went on with its Saturday-night murmur, oblivious to everything. Inside, under the sheet and the dying candlelight, there was only that total, complete surrender, and the strange, warm certainty of feeling, at last, desired and loved exactly as she was. Tomorrow she would be Adrián again. Tonight, however, she was entirely Selene, and she did not want to be anywhere else in the world.
