My girlfriend put on a show for strangers in the middle of the night

Valeria and I had been together for almost two years when exhibitionism stopped being just an idea that hovered around our conversations in the dark. It wasn’t a decision we made all at once, nor a formal agreement. It was something that grew between us gradually, as the things that are built for real usually do: first she went out without underwear one Sunday afternoon, then it was walking to the car with her blouse barely fastened while some neighbor watched from the porch, then it became something more. Always something more.

She was bolder than I was in these things. I came up with the ideas and she took them farther than I dared imagine. That dynamic worked well for us. We both knew exactly what we were after and didn’t need to explain it with too many words. She liked being looked at; I liked looking at her while she was being looked at. When we fucked after one of those outings, she would tell me in exacting detail about every eye that had locked onto her tits or her ass, and I’d fuck her thinking of those men imagining her.

So when the cold front warning came and Valeria’s family organized a late-night blanket drive for homeless people, my mind went straight to a place that had nothing to do with charity.

That afternoon I called her.

—You know we’re going to be alone, at night, out on the street?

There was a brief pause.

—I’m bringing the separate clothes —she replied.

—And no panties?

—No panties, no bra, nothing —she said, and hung up.

My cock was hard before I even put the phone away.

***

The adults took the city center, which was more troublesome and more complicated to cover. Valeria and I were assigned the southern area, a sector of streets with abandoned buildings and half-finished walls where a homeless community had lived for years. We left at nine-thirty in her father’s truck, with four boxes of blankets stacked in the back and the night closing in on both sides of the road.

Valeria came out dressed for the occasion: dark pants, long-sleeved blouse, comfortable sneakers. An image of a responsible volunteer. Her mother saw her off at the door with a blessing. Valeria smiled at her, kissed her cheek, and climbed into the truck. In her backpack she had another outfit.

About ten minutes from the destination, with the landscape already dark and the houses getting farther and farther apart, she started changing in the passenger seat without asking me to look away. First the pants. She lowered the zipper slowly, lifted her ass off the seat, and slid them off her ankles, exposing her shaved cunt, shining under the glow of the dashboard. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath, just as she had predicted. She ran two fingers through her slit while looking at me out of the corner of her eye and took them out wet. She brought them to her mouth and sucked them slowly.

—I’m soaked already —she said—. Since we left.

Then the blouse. She pulled it off over her head and her tits fell free, her nipples hard from the cool air through the cracked window. She pinched them between her fingers until they turned red, never taking her eyes off the road.

—Do you want me to suck you before we get out? —she asked, her hand already finding my crotch.

—After —I told her, gripping her wrist—. If you suck me now, I won’t last at all.

She laughed softly. She took a denim miniskirt from the backpack that stopped halfway down her thigh and a loose, wide-strapped blouse, several sizes too big. She put it on without a bra. Nothing underneath the skirt.

—What’s the point of the loose blouse? —I asked—. If that covers everything.

She fixed her hair and looked ahead with a small smile.

—Wait and see.

***

The area was called The Esplanade, though no one knew exactly since when. A cluster of unfinished lots the city had informally ceded to those who had nowhere else to go. The groups were scattered in clusters of three to five people, marked by small fires or the glow of a flashlight. I parked in an open space between two walls and lifted the first box from the back.

I opened it with a pocketknife. When I looked up, Valeria was already bent over the box taking out three blankets, without bending her knees. The loose, strappy blouse fell forward under the weight. From above, from any elevated angle, it showed everything: the hard nipples, the fullness of her breasts, the skin from her neck down to her belly.

A group of men about forty feet away had their eyes fixed on her. One licked his lips. Another grabbed the bulge in his pants without even trying to hide it.

I laughed under my breath.

—Now I get the blouse.

She winked, tucked the blankets under her arm, and went to the first group.

I sat on the edge of the trunk to watch the show.

The first group received her in silence. They weren’t expecting a young girl dressed like that at that hour and in that place. Valeria greeted them naturally, handed out the blankets, asked if they needed anything else. When she bent down to pick up one that had fallen to the ground, the skirt rode up enough to show the beginning of her ass and the edge of her cunt slit. The men exchanged glances. None of them said anything at that moment. One adjusted his cock over his pants without taking his eyes off her ass.

In the second group there were four men, two seated and two lying down. Valeria crouched in front of them to hand things out from below, at face level. The skirt rose. The ones on the ground had her cunt right at eye level, less than two feet away, open by the posture, shining with dampness. One of them stopped speaking halfway through a sentence and never finished it. The other slowly licked his lips. She took longer than necessary searching in the box, and from where I stood I could see her spread her knees a little wider, deliberately, to give them a full view.

I was still on the trunk with my cock hard against my zipper. The adrenaline made a dull noise in my ears and I did nothing to quiet it. I palmed myself over my pants, imagining those two men masturbating to the sight of her all night long.

It was like that with every group we visited. Some men said things in low voices while she walked away. Valeria would later tell me some of the lines she had heard: “Nice legs, pretty girl,” “You’re so hot, baby,” “That little pussy looks nice and tight,” and one more direct guy who told her that with that ass she ought to be handing out more than blankets, that she needed to spread her legs and let every man in the neighborhood fuck her. She answered them all with a smile. Nothing more. That was enough for both of us.

There was something particular about watching her from a distance: the way she walked among the groups with total normalcy, as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing when she knew perfectly well what she was doing. That was what I liked most about her in those moments.

By eleven we had emptied one whole box and handed out half of another. There was time before we had to return to the meeting point. I walked up to her.

—You’ve done your part —I whispered in her ear, squeezing one of her tits over the blouse—. Now you’re going to suck me off and then I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.

Valeria looked at me with that expression I already knew: the question disguised as certainty.

—Where?

—At the end of the street.

***

I drove two blocks deeper into the area, toward where the walls were higher and the streetlights scarcer. I turned the lights off before parking. I maneuvered until I was wedged between a wall and the edge of the dirt road in an L shape: from no visible outside point could the back of the truck be seen. The only witness was a streetlamp that flickered every so often with its yellow, tired light.

Valeria got out of the cab without me saying a word. She stood in front of the open trunk and, with the same precise movements she had used to change clothes hours earlier in the passenger seat, took off her blouse. Then the skirt. She stood completely naked in the middle of the night, the cold beginning to settle over her skin and her nipples rising in the icy air.

She wasn’t shivering.

She knelt in the dirt in front of me without being asked. She pulled down my zipper with her teeth and yanked my cock out. It had been dripping for a while already. She looked up at me with those dark eyes and took the whole thing in her mouth in one go, all the way down, until I felt the tip hit the back of her throat and she gagged just a little before swallowing and continuing.

—It turns me on when you look at me like that —she murmured, pulling off for a second—. It turns me on knowing that back there a dozen guys are thinking about fucking me.

I grabbed her hair and pushed her head back down. She let me, her hands braced on my thighs, her tongue working underneath, her throat opening every time I pushed. She sucked hungrily, saliva running down her chin, lips tightening on every retreat as if she didn’t want to let me go. I could hear her swallowing, moaning against my cock, breathing through her nose when I had her all the way inside her mouth.

—Get up —I told her, before I came in her mouth—. Not yet.

She stood. She licked her shiny lips and turned her back to me without being asked. She bent forward into the trunk, rested her forearms on the metal floor, and spread her legs. Her cunt gleamed between her thighs, swollen, open, waiting.

I pulled my pants down to my knees and ran the tip of my cock along her slit, from top to bottom, soaking it in her wetness. She pushed her hips back, impatient.

—Put it in already —she whispered—. I can’t take it.

I gripped her hips with both hands and drove into her in one thrust, all the way in. Valeria let out a long, rough moan that bounced off the wall. I fucked her slowly at first, letting her body adjust around my cock, and then harder, setting a rhythm she matched with her movements backward, pushing her ass against me with every thrust. The truck rocked slightly. The asphalt crunched under my feet each time I shifted my weight. Outside, somewhere in the adjoining streets, the distant murmur of people talking among themselves without hurry could be heard.

I pressed my thumb into her ass, no lube, just the wetness that was dripping down her thighs.

—Not there —she panted, but without moving away.

—Shut up and take it.

She arched her back even more and pushed back against my finger herself. I was fucking her cunt with my cock and her ass with my thumb, and she was moving between the two things as if she couldn’t tell which one she wanted to finish with first. The contrast between the cold air and the heat between us was so concrete it felt physical, something you could touch. Valeria’s breath was coming in broken gasps, words barely understandable.

—Harder —she said—. Fuck me harder. Like it’s them.

—Like who?

—Like the ones back there. The ones who were looking at my cunt while I handed things out. Fuck me like they’re taking turns.

I gave her a sharp slap on the ass that cracked against the wall. I grabbed her hair with my other hand and pulled back, arching her neck. Her back was slightly arched and her breathing was changing rhythm. I’ve known that sign for a long time. She was about to come.

And then, footsteps on the dirt.

And then:

—Excuse me.

We both stopped at the same time, as if someone had cut the power. Me with my cock still buried deep in her cunt. Her with her cheek resting on the trunk floor and her ass raised.

Two men were less than twelve feet away. Older, in worn clothes and with faces that looked like they had walked a long way. We hadn’t heard their footsteps at any point.

I slipped out of her slowly. My cock came out with a wet sound, gleaming with her juices, still hard, pointing forward. I didn’t put it away. I wouldn’t have had time to pull my pants up without everything showing.

Valeria slowly sat up. She turned until she was seated on the edge of the trunk, her legs slightly apart and her arms resting at her sides. She didn’t try to cover herself. There was nothing at hand to do it with, and I think she understood that any sudden movement would only have made the situation stranger than it already was. Her tits trembled slightly with her heavy breathing. Between her thighs, the open, soaked cunt shone under the lamp’s yellow light.

One of the men kept his eyes down from the start and never looked up.

The other did not.

—You’re the ones handing out the blankets —said the one who was looking, tone unchanged, eyes locked on her hard nipples.

—Yes —I replied, with the calmest voice I could muster, my cock still hard and wet hanging between my legs—. That’s us.

—There’s another group farther up that didn’t get any. On Sixth Street.

—Sixth? —I asked—. We thought there were five streets.

—Everybody thinks that —he said, never taking his eyes off Valeria’s cunt—. That’s why we always end up without any.

I went to the cab to get the knife, pulling my pants up as I walked. It was between the front seats. It took me longer than expected to find it. I pulled two blankets from the back-seat box and went back to the trunk.

When I got there, Valeria was still sitting on the edge of the trunk, talking to the man who kept looking at the ground. He answered in monosyllables, never lifting his gaze, clearly uncomfortable or embarrassed or both at once.

The other took the two blankets. He stood there for a moment without moving. His eyes ran over Valeria’s body from top to bottom, unhurried and with no attempt at discretion, stopping on her tits, then on her open cunt, then on her tits again. She let him look. She even spread her knees just a little wider, as if by accident.

Then he nodded, muttered something like thanks, and left with the other one along the dirt road.

***

Back in the truck, on the way to the meeting point, Valeria changed into her normal clothes in silence. When she finished buttoning her blouse, she stared out the window for a long, long few minutes. The streets passed by dark on the right-hand side.

Then she spoke:

—The one who stayed touched me.

She said it without emphasis. As if she were informing me of something minor, the price of something at the market.

—When?

—When you went to get the knife. I was sitting on the trunk and he came over. First he put his hand on my knee. Then he moved it up.

I breathed slowly through my nose.

—And?

—And I stayed still. He put two fingers in. Just like that, without asking, without saying anything. He shoved them in to the knuckles and moved them around inside me. I was so wet they went in all the way on the first try.

—Go on.

—He pulled them out and put them in his mouth. He sucked them slowly, looking at me. Then he put them back in, and with the other hand he pulled his cock out of his pants. He had it hard, thick, thicker than yours. He scooted a little closer. He used his knee to open my legs a little. I think he wanted to try it. I think he was going to put it in right there, in the trunk, without caring about anything.

—What did you do?

—I sat up slowly, like I was looking for something among the blankets. He understood. He settled himself and moved away. But before putting it away he ran the tip along my thigh. He left me a wet mark. I still have it.

She opened her skirt for a second and showed me the shiny stain on the skin of her inner thigh. Then she closed it again.

The steering wheel was warm under my hands but I felt it cold. Or maybe it was the other way around and I couldn’t really tell at that moment. My cock had gone hard again.

—Did you stop him because you didn’t want to, or because you heard I was coming back?

Valeria smiled, looking ahead at the dark road.

—Those are the same answer in a different order.

We drove three or four more minutes without speaking. Then she asked:

—What would you have done? If I had let him keep going. If you had seen him fucking me deep in the trunk of the truck.

I didn’t answer right away. The question wasn’t simple, even if it sounded simple. The honest answer was hard for me to say out loud, not because it was bad, but because I liked it more than I had expected to like it.

—I would’ve watched —I said at last—. I would’ve watched him put it in you and then I would’ve fucked you myself on top, with his cum still inside you.

Valeria let out the breath she had been holding. She ran her hand over her thigh, over the skirt, squeezing her thighs together.

—I’m soaked again —she said—. Again.

We got to the meeting point, handed over the remaining boxes, and reported the Sixth Street no one had visited. Only two groups of us needed to return a second night. The adults in the center, us in the south.

On the way back to the car, Valeria took my arm and said quietly:

—Tomorrow there’s a second round. And there are three boxes left.

—And Sixth Street —I added.

—And Sixth Street —she repeated—. And this time I’m wearing an even shorter skirt.

She leaned back in the passenger seat and closed her eyes for the rest of the ride. Her hand was between her thighs under the skirt and she didn’t take it out until we got home. I kept driving and tried not to think too much about what I was thinking, but once I started I couldn’t stop.

That night I got home with my head full of images of what could happen, not what had happened. What had happened was only the beginning.

The night after was still waiting to be written.