The Trans Woman Who Posted the Wrong Photo to the Group

Valeria had just pressed the send button. The coral crop top outlined her nipples, already hardened by the fan’s air, and the high-waisted shorts traced every line of her hips and the obvious bulge hidden beneath the stretchy fabric. She looked herself over one more time in the hall mirror, tilted her hip, and bit her lower lip with a smile that had nothing innocent about it.

Today I’m too turned on to sit still.

The photo was already in the group. Twelve people, maybe more, seeing her leaning against the sink in that studied pose. She knew exactly what she provoked every time she posted an image like that. It was an invitation thrown out into the air, and there was always someone willing to catch it.

Less than three minutes passed before she heard the key turning in the lock.

It was Mateo, her friends-with-benefits hookup of almost a year. Tall, with forearms covered in tattoos, always smelling of an expensive perfume and something harder to name: pure intent. He came in without greeting her, shut the door with his heel, and stopped in the hallway, taking her in from head to toe with deliberate slowness.

—I saw the photo in the group —he said, his voice already rough—. Was that an invitation, or did you just want me to imagine things?

Valeria turned slowly, resting her hip against the edge of the sink, letting the bulge show even more against the fabric.

—What if it was both? —she answered softly, holding his gaze—. What would you do?

Mateo crossed the hallway in two strides. A second later he was pressed against her back, his hands closing over her hips, shoving her against the mirror. The cold glass brushed her nipples through the top and a shiver ran up her spine.

—First —he murmured against the nape of her neck—, this.

He yanked her shorts down in one motion, to mid-thigh. Valeria felt the cool air against her skin and then Mateo’s hand sliding in. He didn’t say anything else yet; he just breathed against her neck, letting anticipation do its work.

—I always forget how good you look in those shorts —he said, his fingers tracing the curve of her ass— and how fast they stop being something I want on you.

Valeria planted her palms on the mirror, arched her back, and pushed her hips back until she brushed his crotch through his pants. She could feel him hard, urgent, barely holding back.

—Then don’t waste any more time —she whispered—. I want to feel you for real.

Mateo unbuttoned his pants with one hand while with the other he spread her cheeks. He wet his fingers, prepared her patiently, tracing slow circles until she let her breath out and stopped tensing. Only then did he line the tip up against her.

—Ready? —he asked, and in that one word there was a promise.

—Been ready for a while —Valeria answered, almost voiceless.

***

He pushed in all at once, slowly, without pausing, making his way in millimeter by millimeter. Valeria let out a long, broken moan, her eyes fixed on her own reflection, watching Mateo’s face contort behind hers.

—Slowly… like that… —she panted—. Don’t rush.

Mateo growled against her shoulder, biting the skin right where her neck met muscle. He started moving with a short, deep rhythm, his hips slamming into her with a wet sound that echoed off the bathroom tiles.

—You’re so tight today —he murmured—. Did you touch yourself before posting the photo?

—Yes —she admitted, breathless, without looking away from the mirror—. I came thinking about this. But it wasn’t enough.

—It never is.

The thrusts grew firmer. Valeria could feel each one traveling through her whole body, from where they joined to the nape of her neck. Her own fingers slid against the glass fogged by the heat from both of them.

—Harder —she asked—. Please.

Mateo obeyed. He grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled her back, forcing her to look at herself, to see the face she made with pleasure while he took her without mercy. With the other hand he slid down her belly and wrapped around his cock, already hard and dripping against the edge of the sink.

—Look at yourself —he told her in her ear, his voice hoarse—. Look how good you are at this.

Valeria could barely hold his gaze. Every time he drove into her to the hilt, her eyelids fell shut of their own accord and a deep sound rose from her chest. Mateo’s hand moved in the same rhythm, squeezing exactly at the right point each time he withdrew almost completely.

—You’re shaking —he teased, breathing hard—. That fast?

—It’s your fault —she panted—. Always your fault.

The rhythm sped up. Mateo’s hips struck her with a constant, hard smack, and the mirror threw back the image of the two bodies moving as one. Valeria felt the tension gathering in her lower belly, a pressure that grew with every thrust.

—I’m going to come —she warned, her voice breaking—. Don’t stop now.

—Come in my hand —Mateo ordered, speeding everything up at once—. I want to feel you clench while I do it.

Valeria went taut all over. The orgasm hit her like a current, long and sharp, and she spilled hot over his fingers and against the mirror. Her body contracted again and again around Mateo, who held out only a few seconds longer.

—Me too… —he growled, plunging all the way in.

He stayed like that, trembling, emptying into her in deep spasms. Valeria felt each hot pulse filling her and let out a satisfied, exhausted moan, her muscles finally loosening.

—That feels so good —she murmured, eyes glazed—. Don’t move yet.

They stayed pressed against the fogged mirror, their broken breaths mingling. Mateo left a slow kiss on her neck and spoke against her skin:

—Delete that photo from the group. This is mine.

Valeria smiled, her eyes still shining, her voice rough from moaning.

—Too late. Everyone’s already seen it. You’ll have to work harder next time if you want them to forget.

Mateo let out a low, dark laugh and gave her ass a loud smack.

—Challenge accepted.

***

He didn’t pull out. He stayed inside, still half hard, moving only a little, just enough to keep her open while Valeria caught her breath. The mirror was splattered and clouded by both their steam. Her legs were trembling, but the hunger in her gaze hadn’t faded even a little.

Mateo gave her another firm smack, and the sound bounced down the hallway.

—We’re not done yet —he said, slowly withdrawing until only the tip was left inside—. Turn around. I want to see your face this time.

Valeria obeyed, turning on legs that could barely hold her up. She climbed onto the edge of the sink, spread her thighs as far as she could, and gripped the marble with both hands. His cock was still firm, dripping onto his own abdomen, and between her ass cheeks the skin shone, sensitive and reddened from what had just happened.

—Look at me —she asked, her voice thick with need—. I want you to do it while looking me in the eyes.

Mateo came closer, lifted one leg, and rested it over his shoulder. He thrust in with a hard shove, without preliminaries this time. Valeria threw her head back, gently hitting the mirror, and what began as a muffled cry ended in a long, torn moan.

—So deep… —she managed to say—. Don’t hold back.

He started pounding into her hard, his hips striking hers without mercy. The wet, obscene sound filled the entire bathroom, mixed with both their ragged breathing.

—Let me hear you —Mateo ordered, wrapping one hand around her throat without quite squeezing, while with the other he pinched a nipple through the top—. I want the whole building to know.

Valeria couldn’t hold back anymore. Every thrust tore a louder, more broken sound from her.

—Yes… more… just like that… —she panted, the words slipping out between moans—. Don’t stop.

Mateo sped up. Sweat ran down his chest and dripped onto her belly. He let go of her throat and wrapped around his cock, moving to the same rhythm, syncing each snap of his hips with each stroke of his hand.

—Tell me how much you like it —he panted, his voice choppy—. Tell me.

—You drive me crazy —Valeria whimpered, her eyes wet with pure pleasure—. You’re driving me crazy. I’m going again… I’m going…

She went taut all over, her body arched like a drawn bow. The second orgasm shook her harder than the first. A deep, prolonged moan rose from her throat as she spilled hot over Mateo’s chest, over the sink, over the mirror. Her body clenched in spasms around him, milking him.

—Like that, yes… —Mateo groaned, almost out of breath—. You’re dragging me with you.

He sank all the way in with one last brutal thrust and stayed there, shuddering, emptying himself again with force. Valeria felt every hot wave slamming into her from inside until it started to slide down the insides of her thighs.

—Fill me —she begged, her voice already broken and satisfied—. Don’t come out yet. Stay.

They stayed stuck together, panting, their chests rising and falling in the same rhythm. Mateo kissed her hungrily on the mouth, biting her lower lip, and murmured against her lips:

—You’re impossible. And I’m not stopping until you can’t even stand up.

Valeria smiled, exhausted but with the same fire still lit in her eyes. She hooked her legs around his hips, keeping him inside.

—Then take me to bed —she whispered, hoarse—. I want to finish what that photo started.

Mateo let out a low laugh, lifted her off the sink without pulling out, and started walking toward the bedroom. Each step made her moan against his neck.

—Get ready —he told her in her ear—. Because tonight we’re not sleeping.

And the moans started up again, lower, deeper, as the bedroom door closed behind them and the group photo remained intact, still getting comments neither of them was going to read that night.