MarianaJacky

I'll tell you the whole story, because these things are more enjoyable when you don't skip any details.Foreword. It all started on a Friday night.. I didn't have any grand plans, but I got dressed in that kind of clothes that make you feel like you're in control of the world the moment you look in the mirror: a shirt a little more open than usual, the perfume applied just right to the key points (neck, wrists), and that attitude of "let's see what the night has in store for me."". The meeting point was an underground bar, hidden behind an ordinary facade in the city center.. As you descended the stairs, the atmosphere already enveloped you: exposed brick walls, very dim reddish lighting, and soft jazz in the background that put you in the right mood.. We sat at a small table, so small that our knees bumped into each other at the very first moment.. Instead of distancing myself, I maintained contact.. That's where the game began.

The journey and the loss of control: Asking for the bill was almost a desperate act. We went out onto the street, and the cold midnight breeze hit us, but I was on fire. We asked for a car to take us to my apartment. During the ride, the silence in the back seat was deafening. No one said anything, but our hands were intertwined, squeezing with an urgency that grew with each red light. I glanced sideways atreflection of the city lights in the window, holding my breath. As soon as we crossed the threshold of my door, the door hadn't even fully closed when we were already on top of each other.. They cornered me against the wall in the hallway.. I felt the firm impact of her body against mine, leaving me almost breathless, and that first hungry mouth searching for my neck.. My hands, which just a moment ago were maintaining composure, plunged into her hair in desperation, pulling slightly, responding to the same urgency..

The backstage game has a more daring touch. It happened during a private party in an art gallery, a place full of people, loud music, and champagne glasses that were constantly being refilled. The flirting had started early with knowing smiles from the other side of the room, but the real climax came when I was subtly signaled to move away from the crowd. We ended up in a hallway.the back area, dimly lit by an emergency light, where the artworks not on display were stored.. What made this experience so intense was the danger of being discovered.. They pushed me against one of the wooden crates holding the sculptures; I managed to say that someone might come, although my tone of voice was actually asking for the opposite.. In response, a hand slowly rose up my thigh, pulling the fabric aside with a confidence that made me bite my lower lip to keep from letting out a moan.. Your heart rate doubles when you know you're only one wall away from a hundred people.. The kisses were silent but fierce, a subtle struggle for control while we kept our ears open for any footsteps in the hallway.. It was a brief, stolen encounter, filled with a wild sensuality.. When we returned to the party, with our hair slightly disheveled and our lip a little swollen, no one noticed anything... except for us, who looked at each other from afar, knowing the secret we shared..

The warmth of the rain. That night, a storm was falling, the kind that paralyzes the city.. I was in the lobby of a boutique hotel, sheltering from the cold with a long coat and a Negroni in my hand.. I had no intention of staying, but then we crossed paths.. It was one of those magnetic glances at the bar, where the noise of the place disappears and you're left measuring the distance between you.. Without saying a single word, the invitation was clear, and we ended up taking the elevator up to one of the highest floors.. The journey of just ten floors felteternal and suffocating, in the best way.. The space was so small that I could feel the heat radiating from her body and the smell of fresh rain that she brought in from the street.. No one spoke, but our breathing became heavier, and just before the doors opened, I felt firm fingers brush against my wrist, completely lowering my guard.. When we entered the room, the large window showed the city, soaked and blurred by the lights.. There wasn't time to light the lamps; my coat ended up on the floor in a second, and my hands found the warm skin beneath their clothes, a perfect contrast to the cold outside.. We moved towards the bed with a clumsy urgency, guided only by the sound of the thunder and the gasps that mingled with the sound of the water hitting the glass.. It was a long night, one of those where there is no rest because every touch seems to ignite a new fire.. At dawn, the storm had passed, but the room was still filled with that humid and electric heat..

Between coffee and overtime: They say the office is a place for routine, but for me, it has become the setting for a private and addictive game that no one else notices. It was past six in the evening. Most people had already left, and the floor was in almost complete silence, broken only by the hum of the air conditioner. I was at my desk, stretching a little after a long day, when I looked up and caught someone's eye across theglass panel. There was that presence, also in front of the screen, but with their eyes fixed on me.. I slowly got up to go to the coffee machine.. While I was filling the cup, I felt some footsteps approaching behind me.. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was; their perfume, woody and subtle, had already completely enveloped me.. She stood right next to me, too close to be "corporate-appropriate," but far enough away to maintain the intrigue.. My breathing quickened a little.. I held the warm cup between my hands and slowly turned around, leaning against the bar.. I held her gaze, that gaze that always challenges me in meetings, but which now had a completely different quality, much darker and more focused.. —""Working late has its advantages," I said in a soft tone, almost a whisper, as I let my eyes drop to her lips for a second before reconnecting with her gaze.. A slow, knowing smile was the response.. The silence between the two became so thick that I swear I could hear the beating of my own heart.. I took a small sip of my coffee, took a step forward, barely brushing against his shoulder as I passed, and returned to my desk without looking back, knowing that overtime was about to become much more interesting..