Chapter 1: Llegando tarde
The last neon sign flickered off outside, plunging the bar into near-darkness save for the dim glow above the sink. Stale beer and lemon disinfectant hung thick in the air. Tati wiped down the counter with rough, practiced strokes, the damp cloth catching on sticky patches of spilled rum. Her black hair, escaping its messy bun, clung to the sweat at her temples. Across the empty room, Marcos nursed his final beer, his gaze tracing the curve of her ass as she bent to stash clean glasses.
"Closing time already?" he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the sudden quiet. He leaned back on the barstool, athletic frame relaxed but eyes sharp. A regular. One of many who watched her.
Tati straightened, tossing the rag into the sink with a wet slap. "Past time, Marcos. You win the prize for lingering champion." She flashed him a grin, sharp and inviting. "Last beer? On the house. Consider it payment for enduring my company."
He chuckled, low and appreciative. "Enduring? Hardly." He pushed his empty bottle towards her. "Company’s the best part of this dive."
She grabbed two fresh bottles, popping the caps with a practiced flick of her wrist. The sharp hiss sounded loud in the silence. Sliding one towards him, she hopped onto the counter opposite, her short skirt riding high on her thighs. She took a long pull from her own bottle, the cool liquid soothing her dry throat. "Peace and quiet," she sighed, kicking her legs lightly against the cabinet below. "Best part of closing."
Marcos mirrored her, leaning forward, elbows on the bar. His eyes dropped momentarily to where her skirt met her thigh before meeting hers again. "Peace is overrated." He took a swig. "Quiet, though… lets you hear things better." His gaze was heavy, deliberate.
Tati felt the familiar thrum of anticipation. This was her playground. She stretched languidly, arching her back slightly, letting him see the swell of her breasts beneath the thin fabric of her work top. "Hear what?" she teased, voice dropping lower.
"The way you breathe," he murmured. "The clink of ice melting in the sink." He reached across the narrow counter, his fingers brushing hers where they rested near her bottle. "The way your heart might be beating a little faster."
She didn’t pull away. Instead, she traced a slow circle on the back of his hand with her fingertip. "Maybe." The air crackled. Outside, the distant thump of bass from another club faded into the city’s hum. Inside, it was just them, the dim light, and the thick, charged silence.
A sharp buzz shattered the moment. Tati flinched, pulling her hand back as if burned. Her phone vibrated insistently on the counter beside her hip. Galder’s name flashed on the screen. Where are you? I’m outside.
Shit. She’d forgotten. Forgotten him waiting, forgotten the promise whispered earlier amidst tangled sheets: Meet me after close. Need you.
Marcos saw the name. Saw the flicker of annoyance, then calculation, cross her face. He leaned back, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Trouble?"
Tati snatched up the phone, her thumbs flying over the screen. Finishing up. Had a drink. Be out soon. She hit send, the lie settling coldly in her gut, instantly drowned by a fresh wave of heat as she looked back at Marcos. Galder could wait. This… this was now. This was the itch she needed scratched.
She tossed the phone aside carelessly. It clattered onto the counter. "Just Galder," she said dismissively, her voice regaining its husky edge. "He can cool his heels."
Marcos raised an eyebrow. "Sure about that?"
"Positive." Tati slid off the counter, landing lightly on her feet. She walked around to his side, the click of her heels unnaturally loud. Standing between his spread knees, she was eye-level with him. The floral scent of her cheap perfume mixed with the beer smell. "Too quiet out here," she murmured, her hand resting on his thigh, high up. "Let’s shut out the world."
She moved past him towards the front door, her hips swaying deliberately. He watched, transfixed, as she grabbed the heavy metal handle of the security shutter. With a grunt, she hauled it down with a loud, rattling clang that echoed through the empty bar. The finality of it sealed them in. The dim light felt even dimmer, more intimate. More dangerous.
Turning back to him, Tati leaned against the now-covered door, the metal cool against her back. Her eyes locked onto his, dark and challenging. "Better." She took another slow sip of her beer, her throat working. Marcos stood up, closing the small distance between them. He placed his hands on the shutter on either side of her head, caging her in. His body heat radiated against her.
"Much better," he agreed, his voice rough. He dipped his head, his breath warm on her neck. She tilted her head, granting him access, a shiver running down her spine that had nothing to do with the cool metal.
He kissed her then, not tentative, but hungry. His mouth claimed hers, tongue pushing past her lips immediately. Tati met him with equal fervor, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands slid down from the shutter, gripping her waist, pulling her hard against him. She could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing insistently against her belly through his jeans. Good.
Her hands roamed down his back, over the firm muscle beneath his shirt, then slid around to his front. Fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, the metal cold against her knuckles. She broke the kiss, panting slightly. "Fuck waiting," she breathed against his lips.
His hands slid down her sides, over her hips, gripping the hem of her short skirt. He started to push it up. Tati stopped him, grabbing his wrists. A wicked smile curved her lips. "Patience." She pushed him back gently, just enough to create space. Holding his gaze, she slowly, deliberately, hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt. Then, spreading her legs wide, she hitched the skirt up to her hips.
The flimsy fabric bunched around her waist. The dim light fell directly on the smooth, bare triangle between her thighs. No lace, no silk. Nothing. Just the shadowed cleft of her sex, exposed.
Marcos froze. His eyes widened, darting down, then back up to her face, stunned. "Jesus Christ, Tati," he breathed, voice thick with disbelief and sudden, intense arousal. "You're… bare?"
Tati laughed, low and throaty. She shifted her weight, letting the light catch the glistening wetness already gathering there. "Surprise." She dropped her hands, leaving herself utterly exposed. "Galder likes it this way. Easier access." She shrugged, the movement making her breasts shift enticingly. "Guess it’s your lucky night too."
Marcos stared, transfixed, his breathing shallow. His cock strained painfully against his zipper. He looked torn between disbelief and raw, primal need. "He’s… he’s waiting outside," he stammered, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face.
Tati stepped forward, closing the gap again. She reached down, her fingers deftly undoing his belt buckle and the button of his jeans this time. The zipper rasped down. "Fuck Galder," she hissed, her hand sliding inside, past the waistband of his briefs. Her fingers wrapped around his hot, hard cock, already slick at the tip. She squeezed, making him gasp. "Right now, Marcos, I want you to fuck me."
The hesitation vanished, incinerated by her touch and her words. A low growl escaped him. He grabbed her hips again, fingers digging into the soft flesh, and spun her around roughly. Her bare ass pressed against his hard cock through the open fly. He shoved her forward, bending her over the sticky bar top. Her breasts flattened against the cool, damp wood. She gasped, more from the suddenness than discomfort, the thrill sparking through her veins.
His hands shoved her skirt higher, bunching it around her waist. He kicked her legs wider apart. The cool air hit her exposed cunt, making her clit throb. She heard the frantic rustle of clothing behind her, then the slick sound of him spitting into his palm. A second later, the thick, blunt head of his cock pressed against her wet opening.
"No foreplay?" she panted, pushing her ass back against him, grinding her slickness onto him. "Just gonna shove it in?"
"Shut up," he grunted, his voice tight with lust. He gripped her hips hard, fingers bruising. "You wanted it raw." He pushed forward, not gently. The thick head stretched her, burned for a second as he breached her tightness. She cried out, a sharp sound swallowed by the empty bar, her fingers scrabbling on the wet countertop.
He didn’t stop. He shoved deeper, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. Tati gasped, her body arching, her cunt clenching around the sudden, overwhelming invasion. It hurt, a delicious, sharp ache mixed with the intense pressure filling her completely. "Fuck! Yes!" she moaned, pushing back against him, taking him deeper still.
Marcos groaned, a deep, guttural sound. He pulled back almost all the way, leaving her clenching around emptiness for a split second, then slammed back in hard. The sound of flesh hitting flesh, wet and rhythmic, filled the small space. Again. And again. He set a punishing pace immediately, hips pistoning, driving into her with deep, hard strokes that shoved her body forward on the bar with each thrust.
Tati braced herself, knuckles white where she gripped the counter edge. Her cheek pressed against the cool, damp wood. Each powerful thrust sent jolts of intense sensation through her – the burn of the stretch, the deep ache as he hit her cervix, the delicious friction against her swollen clit where her body ground against the bar’s edge. Her cunt was soaked, making filthy, squelching sounds with every plunge. Sweat beaded on her forehead, mingling with the condensation on the counter.
"God, your cunt’s so fucking tight," Marcos gasped, his breath hot on her neck. One hand slid from her hip, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her head back sharply. The other hand snaked around her front, roughly groping her breast through her top, pinching her nipple hard. "Taking my cock like a fucking slut."
"Yes!" Tati cried out, the pain-pleasure mix sending sparks behind her eyelids. "Fuck me! Harder! Use me!" She pushed back frantically, meeting each thrust, wanting him deeper, harder. The bar top dug into her hip bones, the discomfort only fueling the raw intensity. She felt utterly filled, utterly used, exactly how she craved it in that moment. The thought of Galder waiting outside, oblivious, sent a fresh wave of illicit heat flooding through her.
Marcos fucked her like he hated her, or maybe like he’d wanted her for years. His hips snapped forward relentlessly, the force making her entire body jerk. His balls slapped against her bare ass with each deep penetration. The wet sounds grew louder, obscene in the enclosed space – the slap of skin, the slick squelch of her cunt taking him, his ragged grunts, her choked moans.
He leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back, increasing the pressure, the confinement. His mouth found the side of her neck, biting down hard enough to leave a mark. Tati cried out again, arching into the pain, her cunt pulsing around his cock. She was close, teetering on the edge, the relentless pounding against her G-spot and the friction on her clit building the coil tight in her belly.
"Gonna come?" he growled against her ear, his thrusts becoming even more frantic, losing rhythm, just desperate pounding. "Gonna come on my cock while your boyfriend waits?"
"Yes!" she shrieked, the words ripped from her. "Fuck! I’m coming! Don’t stop!" Her body seized, her cunt clamping down hard on his invading length in rhythmic, pulsing spasms. Pleasure, sharp and blinding, exploded through her, radiating out from her core, making her legs tremble violently.
Her climax triggered his. With a roar that seemed to shake the bottles behind the bar, Marcos buried himself as deep as he could go and held there. His cock throbbed violently inside her, pumping jet after jet of hot come deep into her clutching cunt. She felt the wet heat flooding her, the pulsing against her sensitive inner walls prolonging her own tremors.
He collapsed heavily onto her back for a moment, his weight pressing her harder into the sticky counter, both of them gasping, slick with sweat. The only sounds were their ragged breathing and the dripping faucet behind the sink.
Slowly, he pulled out. Tati felt the sudden emptiness, the cool air hitting her wet, used cunt, followed by the unmistakable trickle of his release leaking down her inner thigh. She stayed bent over the bar, trembling, trying to catch her breath, the sharp scent of sex thick in the air.
Marcos straightened up behind her, zipping his jeans with a rough sound. He didn’t touch her again. She heard him grab his beer bottle, take a long swallow.
Tati slowly pushed herself upright. Her legs felt shaky. She smoothed her skirt down over her sticky thighs, avoiding looking at him directly. Her phone buzzed again on the counter, Galder’s name flashing insistently.
She picked it up, her fingers trembling slightly. She typed quickly, Almost done. Be right there. She hit send, the lie tasting different now. Ashier.
Turning, she finally looked at Marcos. He was watching her, his expression unreadable in the gloom, a mix of satisfaction and something else – maybe disgust, maybe awe. He drained his beer and set the bottle down with a heavy clunk.
"Well," he said, his voice rough but flat. "That was… something." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "See you around, Tati."
He didn’t wait for a reply. He walked towards the back door, the one leading to the alley. He paused, hand on the knob. "Better clean up," he said over his shoulder, not looking back. "Wouldn’t want Galder wondering why you smell like my dick."
The door opened, letting in a brief gust of cooler, foul-smelling alley air, then slammed shut behind him. Tati was alone. The silence rushed back in, thick and heavy, broken only by the relentless buzz of her phone vibrating against the wet wood. Galder. Waiting. Outside. She stared at the dark screen door Marcos had exited through, the lingering ache between her legs a stark counterpoint to the cold dread starting to coil in her stomach. The beer bottle felt slick in her hand. She lifted it, took a long, shaky swallow. The buzz of the phone was insistent, demanding. She didn’t move. Not yet.