Short story about surreal eroticism.Everyone was

Short story about surreal eroticism. Everyone was celebrating, the room was overflowing with healthy and intense fun, which came from the conversations and laughter of those present. Even so, it was a small room, which only fit a huge table and its chairs, a couple of pieces of furniture and the two doors that communicated with the rest of the house. It was a long, rectangular table, with the instruments, plates, glasses and food in disarray, after a long dinner. The atmosphere was stuffy, without windows; Everyone had been smoking, and the light was dim, as if the lamps hanging from the ceiling were lighting with candles. The combination of the reddish wood of the furniture and the floor, and the old maroon color of the wallpaper, gave the room a timeless, rustic and cozy air, at the same time strange and intriguing, almost magical. Anything could happen in that place. She had drunk; He almost never drank enough to enter that state of peace, strange and exciting, that makes you feel, at the same time, that you are more alive and more asleep than ever. But that day he had let himself be carried away by the romantic and relaxed atmosphere of the room, that little bubble within his life. She knew that that night she would sleep with one of those men, she knew that she would choose one and seduce him; She really wanted to find an emotion that made her feel special, that made her listen to her body and the sound of the vibration of pleasure, the delicious darkness of closing her eyes tightly and simply feeling the other person and herself as a body. She didn't usually do those things, in fact it was the first time she thought and separated feelings from physical pleasure; and that's why it was so exciting. There were eyes looking deeply at her from across the table. Large, slanted brown eyes looked at him as if they could see beyond his own, as if they could see further; his thoughts, dirty and strange, which were not revealed through his external attitude. Those eyes made her feel like they were stripping her naked without even touching her, and that turned her on a lot. She felt like that presence was special, as if everything around her was much faster than them, linked in the murmuring silence by the invisible union of a gaze that exerted a deep and hypnotic attraction on her. That sensation suddenly scared her, and she turned her gaze to other possibilities. Next to him was a handsome, young man, with dark skin and a maroon shirt, green eyes and hair black and shiny as jet. He liked her neck, her skin that seemed to shine in contrast to the shirt, the end of her dark hair that made a last curl before dying on her back, wide and attractive. He put his hand on the man's leg without thinking twice, and he turned around in surprise. She didn't make any strange movements in the eyes of others, and he laughed at her shamelessness. Without stopping looking at her with those green eyes, he took her hand and put it back on his legs, returning everything to its place. He didn't want to play with her that night, but he was disconcerted by her mischievous look as he returned her own hand. He left his hand placed on her legs; He had not wanted to put everything in its place, but rather found himself facing a real counterattack. She smiled again, still not looking at him. He left his hand for a long time, without moving it, although she felt it getting warmer and hotter on her leg; He was big, with strong and long fingers. He didn't dare move the whole time, thinking that any small movement would be interpreted as a gesture of discomfort or rejection, and he would remove it from his leg. That excited him even more deeply. He looked at her neck again, and couldn't help but move his hips a little, repositioning the junction of his legs. The hand moved, getting closer to the inside of her skirt. The skirt was tight, and could only touch skin if it fell towards the center. It was enormously exciting to do all that between the conversations of all those people, and the gaze of brown eyes revealing their thoughts, each time clearer and dirtier. She didn't want to look at the face of that man next door even at the moment when she needed to open her legs so that his hand could fit her, like a strange provocation, a game. She raised her skirt, covering herself with the tablecloth, and hid her face with her hand and her hair, which fell over her eyes. She spread her legs as wide as she could, and suddenly her hand stopped moving; clearly expecting a look of surprise and pleading. She smiled, without looking at him, and took his still hand in hers, as if it were an inert toy that she used as she pleased. He ran his two middle fingers over her underwear, with more intensity each time he drew on the clothing, finally stopping at that small mound that always gave him so much pleasure. The hand moved again; she had won. He heard the man's chair approach carelessly and the other hand took his to place it on the front of his tight, black pants. Then she noticed the result of all those silent moments, but she continued doing nothing but smile. He moved his hand freely, playing with pressing the rubber of her underwear against the sensitive and thin skin, and then moving it away so he could caress her directly with his finger. That drove her crazy, and she squeezed her legs tightly without being able to contain herself. She also caressed his pants, but instinctively, almost without being able to think. The touch of a hand on her back startled her. It was a person who had taken the bottle of wine, and had leaned on his shoulder for a moment, without imagining what was happening under the tablecloth. Seeing her with her face in her hands and hair, he asked her if she was okay, and she responded with a yes that was as sincere as it was unconvincing, which was still enough for them to leave her alone again. Suddenly the hand stopped, and this time she couldn't help but look into his eyes. He smiled, elated, and suddenly stood up from the chair. She watched him as he walked out the door, giving him a provocative look before leaving it ajar. It took her a few seconds to adjust her skirt and decide to follow him. Almost unable to walk, he got up, walked to the door, and gently opened it while the gaze of brown eyes fixed on his back for the last time.