The Traveler
Adrian walked up to the counter with his wallet in hand, his body still light from the beer but his eyes already heavy with fatigue. He wore worn-out jeans, dirty sneakers, and an unbuttoned flannel shirt over a Nirvana T-shirt, the look of a broke student who didn’t bother pretending to be anything else.
His dark brown hair fell in messy waves over his forehead, which he kept pushing back with his fingers in an unconscious habit. There was something in his eyes, something between distracted and hungry, that made certain women stare at him a second longer than they intended.
He didn’t know that.
Or maybe he did, and just pretended not to.
It was while he was waiting for change, his arm leaning on the counter and his gaze fixed at the bottom of his glass, that he saw her.
Not entering, but already there, as if the world had shifted slightly to frame her.
She stood in the darkest corner of the bar, one leg crossed over the other, arms resting loosely at her sides, like someone who had nothing to defend herself from. The tight, sleeveless black dress seemed sewn together from silhouette and silence, and the fabric carried a subtle, almost metallic sheen, like something from the future. Or from a dream.
Her short black hair framed a perfectly drawn face, lips slightly parted, and eyes that seemed to know exactly what would happen next. She looked a little older than him, maybe 28.
She didn’t scan the room. She chose when to look.
And at that moment, she looked at him.
Adrian decided to take his shot.
“You know I can predict the future,” he said, with a half-smile.
She smiled.
“Good. Because where I come from, we already know how it goes.”
Adrian smiled back.
“What’s your name?” he asked, raising his voice above the music.
“Noys. And you?”
“Damn, she’s gorgeous, but what kind of name is that?” Adrian thought.
“I’m Adrian. And where I come from, I predict we’re going to have one hell of an ending to this night.”
Noys smiled, her eyes sparkling. She knew she could keep the wordplay going. But she also knew pulling him into a kiss would be far more effective. This was the right time, and the right era, to let things escalate fast.
Adrian used the rest of his money to pay for a cab to the nearest cheap motel. The desire between them was so palpable the driver felt it in the air and pressed harder on the gas, uncomfortable, maybe even a little aroused by the urgency in the backseat.
They picked up the key at reception. The door opened. The explosion began.
Adrian tore off his own clothes; Noys stripped out of hers. In seconds, they were naked on the bed, lost in burning kisses and desperate touches, as if time itself were against them.
Noys went down, gripped his cock firmly, and started sucking him with hunger, deep, eager, relentless. Adrian, almost in a trance, slid his fingers into her wet pussy, and soon they were locked in a furious 69, devouring each other.
Adrian flipped her onto all fours and began fucking her hard, gripping her hips as her body surrendered. He came like he was being consumed.
But it was only the beginning.
Exhausted and sweating, they collapsed to the side. Noys traced her hand across his chest, and just from looking at her face, Adrian was hard again.
She climbed on top of him, slowly, deliberately, and started riding. He held her hips, watching this gorgeous, impossible woman take him back to climax.
They spent the night like that. Inside each other. On each other’s tongues. Breathing each other’s scent.
They spoke with their eyes, with their moans, with bodies that didn’t yet realize this was the first, and maybe the last, night.
It was just another Sunday night in 2015. Adrian, 43 years old, divorced architect. He had just dropped off Felipe and Andreia, his two teenage children, at their mother’s place. Now he was heading home to another lonely Sunday night, bracing himself for the start of another week.
By now he had a routine: stopping at the same roadside diner, ordering a burger, fries, and a Coke. Sitting there, watching the cars go by, contemplating the slow death of the weekend.
“Hello, Adrian.”
He froze, eyes widening. It was her. Noys. Twenty years later. She wore a similar dress, maybe a little more golden this time. But it was the same face, the same body, even the same scent… She still looked twenty-eight, younger than him now.
“It’s you?” he said, stunned. “Noys?!” He had never forgotten her name.
“Yes.” She gave him the most beautiful smile in the world.
“What are you doing here?” Adrian asked.
“My organization has business here.”
“Here?! At a roadside diner?”
“No. Here, in 2015,” she answered with sincere eyes. “I wasn’t joking, and I didn’t lie to you that night… I really am a time traveler. For you it’s been twenty years, for me it’s been, well… about a week.”
Adrian’s mind resisted, but there was no rational explanation for this woman showing up exactly the same, two decades later. Some people aged slowly, sure. But this? Impossible. Maybe it was a game, a lie, but she was something delicious from his past. And why not step back into it? Why not play along?
“And why after so long? A week…” he laughed nervously. “You came back to see me again?”
“Adrian,” she said, “in my organization, in the work we do to keep the timelines intact, we can’t marry or get deeply involved with anyone, not in our time, not in any other. But sometimes we need relief. Calculations were made, and it was proven: being sexually involved with you every twenty years doesn’t alter any timeline. You’re safe. For me, and for eternity. And I won’t lie: I still find you attractive. As you were twenty years ago. As you are now.”
Adrian smiled, embarrassed and flattered. And then, after twenty years for him, and a week for her, they kissed.
Adrian was no longer the impulsive young man. He didn’t drag her to the car or a motel. Instead, he ordered another meal. They had dinner together.
Night fell slowly as the car slid back along the dark streets. Adrian drove with one hand on the wheel, the other intertwined with Noys’s fingers, resting warm and alive on her bare thigh.
They reached his apartment. No rush, no need for words.
He led her by the hand to his bedroom and, for the first time that night, stopped to really look at her. Not as a mirage or memory, but as something real, tangible, impossible.
Noys smiled, as if she already knew what he was about to do.
Adrian undressed her gently. His fingers slid along the metallic fabric of her dress, which fell away like a secret revealed. He caressed her shoulders, her neck, her breasts, like someone reading a poem backward, trying to find where the spell began.
She answered with a long, deep, silent kiss. And there, in the middle of the room, he undressed as well, effortlessly. He was already hard, not only from desire, but from memory. As if his body, too, remembered.
Lying on the bed, Noys looked the same. But there was something new in her eyes. A curious glow, as if she wanted to see what twenty years had done to that boy.
Adrian touched her slowly. His mouth traveled down her breasts, her sides, her stomach. Then his lips slipped between her thighs until he heard the first stronger moan, until he felt her fingers clutching his hair. His tongue explored her with a calm, steady rhythm, without the urgency of two bodies colliding, now it was different.
She came on his mouth, her head thrown back.
When he entered her, it was with a precise, steady movement, as if they fit together more maturely now. Their sex was slow, deep, with open eyes, hot breath, restrained moans.
He came the first time with her on top, watching her body move with that instinctive naturalness only time and cultivated desire could explain. They stayed like that for a long while, sweaty, breathless, still joined.
“Twenty years,” he said.
She answered with a kiss.
Minutes later, Adrian rolled to the side and pulled her with him. They stayed wrapped together, naked, skin to skin. He kissed her shoulder, her neck. His hand caressed her belly, and she moaned softly as his cock hardened again.
This time, he took her from behind. Their bodies pressed close, his thrusts slow and deep. Her hand locked with his. He came again, dissolving into her, no longer just Adrian, but part of something greater. She welcomed him in silence, eyes closed, a faint smile on her lips.
Later, lying under the sheets, she said, “You’re better than you were twenty years ago.”
“So are you.”
He looked at her and added: “Or maybe I’m just seeing better now.”
The next morning, over breakfast, Adrian and Noys shared kisses and touches. Adrian understood now that Noys hadn’t been arrogant with him back in 1995, just honest. She had her path, and he had his. He sat her on his lap and kissed her deeply.
“What business did you come to handle here, in 2015?” he asked.
“If I tell you what I came to fix in the timeline, it might affect the timeline even more,” she said with a smile.
“Stay a little longer. Stay one more day.”
“I’d love to, but I can’t. Everything has to be calculated to keep the timeline safe.”
“Does that mean we’ll see each other again? In 2035?”
“Probably, yes,” she confirmed.
They kissed goodbye. Noys stood, walked to the door, and closed it behind her. Adrian got up and went to the window to catch one last glimpse… but she had already vanished. Again.
It was a sunny, ordinary Friday afternoon in 2035. Adrian, 63 years old, retired architect.
He spent his time reading books, and on weekends he welcomed visits from his children and grandchildren. He still had the same eyes and the same mouth he’d had at 23, now framed by wrinkles, with slower, more deliberate movements. He knew this was the year she would appear again, but they had never agreed on a date, day, or hour.
That’s why it was a genuine surprise when he saw her, in a shorter dress, still with those metallic details. He didn’t know which future she had come from, but surely those shimmering patterns would be in fashion there.
“You came,” Adrian said, grinning from ear to ear.
“I told you I’d be back. You look beautiful.” And they kissed, intensely.
For him, it had been twenty years since their last meeting. For her, only a few days, enough time to miss him.
People around them stared with admiration, curiosity, and, in some cases, judgment. She looked much younger than him, half his age, maybe less. They didn’t know the story, but they judged anyway.
They walked together to Adrian’s building. Crossed the street among electric cars and charging stations, climbed calmly to the fourth floor. Adrian couldn’t take his eyes off her. Beautiful, young, beautiful, exactly as she had been when he first saw her in 1995, when they had devoured each other in a night of frantic, wordless sex.
Adrian asked her to sit on the bed while he went to the kitchen. He opened the cabinet with a touch of hesitation, poured himself a glass of water, and discreetly swallowed a tadalafil pill. His body was no longer the same, but his desire was. And more than that, so was the feeling.
When he came back, she was watching him with a sweet smile.
Adrian undressed her like someone opening a box of memories. He touched her skin like someone reading the final chapter of a book he always knew would end this way, with reverence and gratitude. Noys was just as stunning as she had been in 1995, but to Adrian’s eyes, she was even more so now. He didn’t even need to wait for the pill to kick in.
Noys went down on him slowly, tenderly. She wanted Adrian to feel it. He closed his eyes and savored the moment, a pleasure that felt almost spiritual. He no longer had the vigor of forty years ago, but in his mind and heart, everything was more intense.
She laid him down on the bed and rode him with smooth, steady movements. From time to time, she pressed her firm, perfect breasts against the face of the man who desired her with the tenderness of someone who knew it would be the last time. Adrian’s heart raced. And then he came. Just once, but deliciously. Of all the orgasms they had shared, this one was the most sublime.
They spent the rest of the time in each other’s arms, trading caresses. Adrian knew by now that Noys would never reveal much about herself or her mission in 2035. But he had so much to tell. So many years, so many stories.
The next morning, Adrian woke early. He prepared breakfast with fruits, cheeses, two kinds of coffee, very different from the simple meal in 1995. They ate together. He sat her on his lap, as he had before. And, as before, she gifted him with a blowjob, slow, tender, making him come in her mouth, for the last time.
“You’re incredible,” Adrian said, smiling, tired but happy.
“And you? What are you?” Noys replied, caressing his face. “You made a woman travel centuries into the future, three times, just to see you.”
It was time to say goodbye.
Adrian walked her to the elevator. The door opened. They shared one final kiss.
“I’ll wait for you in twenty years,” Adrian said.
Noys looked at him, tender but firm.
“No, Adrian. This was our last meeting.”
And the elevator doors closed.
And Noys and Adrian never saw each other again.
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