What My Lover’s Companion Was Hiding

The trip came together at the last minute. They told me on a Thursday afternoon that I had to be in Guadalajara early Saturday, and by then there wasn’t a flight or bus that would do me any good. I had no choice but to pull the car out of the parking lot, stuff a backpack in a hurry, and drive alone for however many hours it took.

The only good thing about it was that my lover lived halfway there. I wrote to him that same night to tell him I’d be passing nearby, hoping to steal at least an afternoon with him. Mora worked from home and could get around without having to explain herself to anyone, so the idea delighted him. But before saying yes, he asked me for a favor.

—I’ve got a friend stranded in a town on your way —he wrote me—. Will you pick him up and bring him to me? It’ll only divert you two or three hours, nothing more. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.

I knew that word in his mouth. When Mora promised to make something worth your while, you ended up gladly paying twice what you’d given. I said yes without thinking.

The map took me straight to the town store where we’d agreed to meet. I saw him from a distance, from behind, leaning against the wall with a bag slung over his shoulder. He was wearing tight white jeans, a blue shirt clinging to his body, and a vest in the same shade. It took me a while to realize it was him: from behind, with that narrow waist and that round ass, anyone would have sworn he was a woman.

When he turned around, he smiled as if he’d known me forever.

—You’re Tomás —he said—. He sent me your photo. —And before I could answer, he gave me a much longer, warmer hug than I’d expected from a stranger.

—Easy, easy —I laughed, gently pulling back—. Let’s get your things into the trunk.

He bent down to take a pair of sunglasses out of the suitcase, and with the movement his pants slipped down over his hip. I caught a glimpse of a red thong made of thin straps, held in front by a small shiny ring. I looked away, but it was too late: the detail had already burned itself into my mind.

—Do you want anything from the store? —I asked, to play it off.

—A pack of mints and some beers, if you don’t mind.

I bought the mints, a discount cooler with twelve beers, a bottle of tequila, and some snacks. I figured that would save me from having to stop later to buy more things. When I got back to the car, he was already settled in the front passenger seat, shoes off and bare feet up on the dashboard. His toenails were painted pale pink, two bracelets around each ankle, each with a little gold heart.

—Oops, I got comfortable —he said without a trace of embarrassment—. If it bothers you, say so.

—Not at all —I replied, and started the car.

***

The trouble began twenty minutes later. Not knowing the area, I’d taken the free road instead of the bypass that led to the highway, and to make things worse, in the rush and the detour, I’d forgotten to fill the tank. The needle was on reserve.

—Hey —I said, trying not to let the panic show—. We’ve been on reserve for a while now. If we don’t find gas soon, we’ll be stranded, and I have no idea where this road even goes.

—Damn, you should’ve told me —he answered—. Everybody sells gas in town. There’s one or two stations a bit farther on, but I don’t know if they’re still open. They closed during the shortage.

—If we’re lucky, they’ve reopened by now.

They hadn’t reopened. We covered the last kilometer in silence, slowly, squeezing out every drop, until we reached an old gas station with rusted signs and the shutter down. Closed, just as he’d predicted.

I parked so we could see the road both ways, in case someone passed by willing to sell us a little fuel. We got out. I took two beers from the cooler and tossed one to him.

—Cheers. Not much else to do now.

—Cheers —he answered.

I went to piss against the wall of what had once been the store. He came over, checked his phone, and let out a laugh.

—I don’t have signal! Check yours.

And then, a few feet from me, he turned his back to the wall, lowered his pants and thong, and squatted to pee. When he stood back up, I caught an accidental glimpse of his crotch: his shaved cock, enclosed in a small pink acrylic cage. That was why he did it squatting, I realized. I checked my phone to pretend I wasn’t looking. I had no signal either.

***

It was still early and the sun was strong enough to make the beers go down by themselves. The conversation was all small talk —the heat, the road— until he asked me how I’d met Mora.

—Online —I said—. We started chatting, built trust, confessed a few fantasies to each other, and one day we got brave enough to meet. We live in different cities and honestly it works for us that way: the distance is what keeps us wanting each other.

—And you and her? —I shot back.

—Well, as handsome as I am, I wasn’t always like this —he smiled, and took a long drink—. I’m going to confess a secret, but little by little, so I don’t scare you. —He made a theatrical pause—. I’m not gay.

I couldn’t help laughing.

—Sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude, but now that we’re being honest… you’ve got your toenails painted, those little chains, the thong, and that thing on your shaved cock.

—Ha. I know how it looks —he admitted—. Look, I can take a good man in my mouth and even let myself get fucked, but I’m not gay. I don’t even know how to define it. —He opened another beer and handed it to me—. What I’m into is being submissive. My name’s Mauricio, by the way. Mau.

—Tomás.

—Mora and I used to date —he went on—. She probably didn’t tell you. We lived together, almost got married. I was a spoiled pretty-boy and kind of clueless; she was a fire in bed. She was always left wanting more. That’s how she got addicted to toys. That’s why we have a toy business now: I test them and write the reviews.

—Seriously?

—One day, without warning, she put all my underwear in the wash. When it was time for me to leave for work, she told me, with a face like butter wouldn’t melt, that she’d forgotten to hang it out, and that I should go out with nothing on or put on one of her panties. —He smiled wickedly—. She let me choose which ones, and promised that when she got back she was going to eat me whole. I, annoyed at first, opened her drawer. And that day, without either of us knowing it, a transformation began that we never imagined.

***

The heat and the beers were loosening us up. Mau told me how, little by little, he swapped underwear for stockings, shoes for heels, and how he stopped penetrating Mora with his cock and started doing it with harnesses and dildos, while letting her stretch him open. Every memory raised the temperature between us.

—What I’ve got on is a cage —he explained, gesturing to himself—. I’m her submissive, and she loves feminizing me. When I’m with Mora I dress like a goddess. It’s been a long time since I’ve fucked her with this; I keep it locked up for days and I love it.

—Isn’t that dangerous?

—Not at all. You do it little by little, carefully. When I unlock it, I get a normal erection. —He leaned toward me—. Want to see it?

By then I’d had several beers and curiosity outweighed caution. I said yes. He knelt up on the seat to get at a better height, lowered his pants and thong, and showed me his hairless, soft pubic area, the little cock wrapped in its pink capsule, secured by a ring to his shaved balls and locked with a tiny padlock.

—And who has the key?

—There are three sets. She has one. I keep another, only for emergencies. And the third is left free, for whoever she authorizes. —He twisted between the seats to reach another beer, and when he did he gave me a full view of his bare ass and a shiny jewel plugging his hole.

—And that?

—I knew you’d ask. —He spread his ass cheeks with both hands—. It’s a plug. I use it to stay constantly turned on and constantly stretched. This one’s new; I have to review it.

Without thinking, I slapped his ass and asked for the peanuts. He laughed, ran the cold can over the cheek I’d just marked, and looked at me over his shoulder.

—You’ve got a good hand, huh. —He took a drink—. You know? Whoever treats me like a man, I treat like a friend. Whoever treats me like a lady, I treat like a king. But whoever treats me like a slut, I treat like a god.

***

He stayed seated with the thong around his ankles, not bothering to get dressed. I didn’t know what to do with my hands or where to look.

—Aren’t you going to get dressed? —I asked.

—It’s your car, your rules. And you asked to see my little sweet thing —he replied, amused—. Don’t worry. It’s still early and anything can happen.

“Anything can happen.” The phrase kept circling in my head like an echo. While I chewed on it, I started connecting dots that didn’t quite fit, but the heat and the alcohol pushed them to the bottom.

Later I went back to the wall. He followed me.

—You won’t be scared if I come with you, right?

—I’ve already seen you. You’ve got nothing to hide —I said.

—Then can I see you too?

I didn’t answer. When he reached my side, he’d taken off the vest and undone the first buttons of his shirt, revealing two small, firm breasts. I couldn’t tell whether they were prosthetic or the result of some treatment. They looked real, perfect on his slender body.

—I think I saw an open window in back —he said, pointing at the building—. I’m slimmer, I can get in and open it from the inside. Anyway, we’ve been here for hours and nobody’s passed by. This road barely gets used.

We found the window and forced it just enough. Mau slipped through. I heard a crash of things falling and a shout.

—Are you okay?

—Yeah, I just got soaked through.

Minutes later he opened a side door, dripping wet, with the grin of a naughty little boy. Inside was some kind of storeroom with a room and a bathroom. I found the fuse box and managed to switch on a couple of lights. While he looked for something to change into, I checked the rest: candles, glasses, a few heavy jackets, cans of food, and in one corner, a twenty-liter jerrycan of gasoline.

I was about to shout the good news when I heard heels.

***

He came out of the room transformed into someone else. A straight black wig with bangs, eyes painted in gradients from black to lilac, lips barely pink and glossy. A lilac sequined dress, fitted, backless, with a sweetheart neckline framing those small breasts. And sky-high, slender gold heels that matched the bracelets on his ankles.

I was speechless. If I’d passed him on the street, I would never have thought he was a guy.

—King or god. Your rules, your desires —he said, walking toward me with his hips swaying.

—You’re a real temptation —was all I could manage to say.

—And what are you going to call me while I’m like this? You can call me Lulú. Or whatever you feel like.

He grabbed the phone, put on some ballads, and wrapped his arms around my neck. I took him by the waist. He poured two tequilas, put a mint between his lips, and, while he barely kissed me, slid his hand over my pants. Slowly he undid my belt, the button, the zipper.

—You’re the first man I’ve ever been with for real —he whispered.

—But you said…

—I said I swallow the loads other guys leave in our reviews, and that only she’s ever penetrated me —he answered in my ear, stroking me slowly—. The closest I’ve come to a cock was one day when she and I were doing sixty-nine while a friend was fucking her from behind. So today you’ve got a virgin, in a manner of speaking.

He knelt in front of me and took me into his mouth with a grace I hadn’t imagined he had. The cold mint multiplied every sensation. He ran his tongue along the length of me, took me all the way to the base, alternating soft and rough. When I told him I was about to come, he didn’t pull away. Afterward he dressed me calmly, stood up, and downed his tequila in one swallow.

—Do you like mints? —he asked, licking his lip.

—I hadn’t tried them like that. I think they’re my favorite now.

***

I froze, not knowing how to react.

—Relax —he said—. It’s my first time too. Not just with a man, but without my mistress present. Come on, let’s dance.

As we swayed, my mind finished putting the puzzle together. I hadn’t checked my phone since halfway through the trip. The cans thrown inside, the bucket of water, but no puddle. The music was coming from an app, not from the phone’s memory. We’d never actually lost signal; maybe I had, at some point. Everything, from the beginning, had been set up.

Before I could say anything, he took my hand to his chest and with the other pulled me against him.

—Relax. Enjoy it. I’m yours.

I kissed him hungrily. I slid my hand down his thigh to his ass, squeezed the softness there, and my fingers brushed the plug. I played with it, tugging slightly.

—Slowly —he begged—. You’ve never played with one before?

—No.

He took off my shirt. I pulled the side zipper of his dress down and the sequins fell to the floor, leaving him in lingerie: a pink thong embroidered with flowers, sheer in back, and a demi-cup bra that showed two tiny piercings in his nipples.

—Keep the heels on —I told him.

I drew him in to kiss him for real, and when he pressed against me I felt the cage of his cock against mine. A new sensation ran through me, unfamiliar and electric.

And just then I heard a voice I knew.

It was Mora, walking into the place in black heeled sandals, dust from the road on her legs. A short leather skirt, a white lace corset-style blouse, black hair tied back in a ponytail. She was smiling like someone arriving at a show staged for her.

—This is how I wanted to catch you, slut —she said—. Fucking my man. In position.

Lulú spun on his heels, knelt down with his hands behind him, and lowered his face, though without taking his eyes off me, still wearing that wicked smile.

—My love, what a pleasure to see you —Mora said to me, coming over to kiss me—. I see this little slut has already seduced you. He’s a greedy whore; he’d seduce the Pope if he could. But today I’m in charge. —She nudged Lulú aside with the sole of her shoe and, never taking her eyes off me, unfastened her shorts and pulled them down along with her thong—. Want an ass to fuck? Take mine. But first —she ordered, pointing at Lulú—, eat his ass until he comes. Then I’ll fuck him myself.

What happened the rest of that weekend, and the other stories that came after, I’ll tell little by little.