Kneeling, I Realized I No Longer Desired My Boyfriend

The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her nipples hardened the moment she noticed the familiar taste in her mouth. Daniela recognized her body's reaction, that automatic little spark, but something still wasn't quite fitting. The arousal wasn't coming from the taste. It had already been there for a while, and that left her confused.

She stayed there, thinking, with her lips still closed around him. Maybe it wasn't sex itself. Maybe it was the idea of giving someone pleasure, or that strange feeling of making skin contact with another person's body, that gave her goose bumps.

How did this become so routine? It's not like I've been with him that long.

Iván kept moving slowly, in and out of her mouth, oblivious to the fact that she was elsewhere. Daniela did the math without meaning to. Five years sleeping with men. A quarter of my life, practically. And by my count, I'm on number eight. Put like that, it sounds like a lot, and not much at the same time.

She couldn't help smiling.

—You like this, huh? —he said when he saw the expression.

The voice snapped her back into the room. She'd been lost in her head for a couple of minutes while her boyfriend used her mouth as he pleased.

—Look at me —he said.

Daniela obeyed. She pressed her lips against him and lifted her gaze until she met his eyes. She liked obeying; she always had. She was on her knees, just as he'd asked, with her panties tangled around her ankles and a pillow under her knees so she wouldn't dig them into the floor.

The truth was, she didn't mind kneeling in front of her partners. It was even comfortable; it took less effort and kept them happy. With a stranger it was different: with a one-night stand she'd suck him off, yes, but she wouldn't let him use her mouth like it was something else. That was reserved for someone she trusted.

And with Iván she did. They'd been together almost six months, and she felt good at his side. He was an attentive guy, included her in everything, always coming up with plans. That constancy gave her security, and she was grateful for it in intimate moments. That night, too, was special: his birthday was two days away, but they were celebrating early at Daniela's parents' house, where she still lived at twenty-three. Her parents had gone away for the weekend. They knew perfectly well their daughter was going to use the empty house for more than just watching TV.

She worked as a sales assistant for a clothing chain. She'd never been interested in studying, though that year she'd started a business administration course that didn't excite her much either. She had to do something, and then her parents would stop pressing the issue. When she wasn't at the store or in class, she was with Iván or with her friends. At home she helped out a little and spent the rest of her time bored, staring at her phone. Sometimes she wondered whether that was life or just the prelude to something that still hadn't arrived.

—Now the balls, come on —he murmured.

Daniela took him out of her mouth and bent down a little more to lick his scrotum. Luckily he shaved it; she'd asked him to a while back, because otherwise she'd end up with her tongue full of hairs and she wasn't up for that.

Have I sucked them all off, the ones who put it in my mouth? she thought, listening to him gasp above her. What's wrong with me today that I can't stop overthinking everything?

She slipped a hand between her legs to touch herself, to see if that would put her in the mood. Nothing. It was as if everything had turned into a formality. Undress, kneel, spread your legs, move on to the next thing. They'd stayed in for something special for his birthday, and there she was, calculating matches.

He was two years older and was finishing his degree. The following year he was leaving for Rotterdam to do a master's, and they both knew it was going to be difficult. To be honest, Daniela knew she would miss him, but with the crisis she had on her hands at that age, she wasn't sure what would be left of the relationship. And, to this day, she found it hard to admit how much he mattered to her.

—Wait, babe. —Iván gently moved her head away from his thighs. She stopped and waited—. I want to ask you something.

Daniela looked at him without speaking. She already guessed it.

—I want you to try it from behind.

Silence fell completely. Three seconds stretched out as if they were hours.

—Sure. Turn around —she answered.

He turned at once and looked for her over his shoulder.

—Fuck, you're the best. I didn't even know how to ask you. I wanted to do it today, since it's a different kind of day.

—I wanted to take it a step further too —she said—. And you know I've never done it. You'll be the first.

The comment turned him on. It gave him enormous confidence, so much that he grabbed the back of her neck and guided her toward him, eager to feel his girl's tongue on the same spot he'd seen a thousand times in videos.

Since when have I become such a liar? Daniela thought while she moved her tongue up and down, acting like a novice as if she didn't fully know what to do. Her memory brought up, without warning, the asshole of her ex, the one who forced her to do this every time they got into bed.

Well, I was partly to blame too. What did I expect from a guy more than ten years older than me? That he'd treat me like a queen? Of course not. The bastard did whatever he wanted with me, and you have to own that. Four months being someone's rag. At least it taught me something.

—God, you really are the best… —Iván moaned, clutching the headboard.

We'll be done within two weeks of him getting on that plane, she kept thinking with her tongue still against him. It's exactly what I was thinking before: when did it all become so familiar? When did that spark from the beginning go out? Am I getting tired of men? Of sex? Impossible. It has to be something else.

—That's enough —he said after a while, turning back around to put himself in her mouth again and resume the rhythm—. I loved it, babe. Thanks for everything you do for me.

Daniela lifted her gaze, looked him in the eyes with him inside her, and gave him a conspiratorial wink.

—Did you like doing it to me? —he asked.

She nodded and let out an affirmative sound, her hands resting on his ass. Iván took advantage of it to grip her hair and drive harder, faster.

—Ah… I'm going to come. Where do you want me to leave it?

Daniela shrugged. For an instant she feared the gesture might offend him, but the truth was she didn't really care what he did with her. What's happening to me today?

Far from being bothered, he took the shrug as permission to choose. He pulled out, gripped her hair firmly so she wouldn't move, bent his knees a little to aim better, and started jerking himself off quickly, panting right over her face. She stayed watching, waiting for the exact moment. How many times have I put up with this? Do they think I'm one of those women you can do anything to? Maybe I should be firmer.

—Ah… there!

The first warm thread landed on her cheek. Daniela had the sensation that everything was happening in slow motion, that she saw each new spurt before she felt it on her skin. She closed her eyes for a second. The heat slid down her cheekbone.

—Fuck, Daniela… I love you so much. Jesus, what a load!

She felt the liquid slide toward her jaw and brought her hand up to her right cheek before it could drip onto the floor. Iván pressed the tip against her lips and tried to push it into her mouth again.

—Clean me up, come on. And take a little into your mouth, as a reward.

What an asshole. What reward is he talking about? Even so, Daniela obeyed. She ran her tongue around it a couple of times while with the other hand she held what was left on her face so it wouldn't stain the carpet.

—That's it —he said, finally taking it out of her mouth.

Iván fell back onto the bed, satisfied, and stroked her head with a limp hand. She sat up without a word and went to the bathroom to wash up.

Gross, fuck. He got it in my hair too, and it takes forever to get it out of there afterward.

In front of the mirror, she cleaned her face and rinsed her mouth to wash away the rest of that taste. The glass reflected a twenty-three-year-old girl, dark-haired, with generous though not exaggerated breasts, alert eyes and, yet, a dull expression. She stayed looking at herself longer than she'd meant to.

What she was missing wasn't an orgasm. She knew how to handle that on her own, any time. What she was missing was something else, something that room, that nice boy, and that routine could no longer give her. She dried the water from her chin and understood, with uncomfortable clarity, that she'd grown tired of that particular taste.

She went back into the bedroom slowly. Iván was dozing with half a smile, convinced he'd given her a memorable night. Daniela sat on the edge of the bed and looked out the window, counting, this time for real, the days left until he left for Rotterdam. Not from nostalgia. For something that felt a lot like relief.

There'll be a ninth dick, she thought almost tenderly. And a tenth. And maybe, with one of them, I'll feel that way again.

She lay down beside him, turned her back, and closed her eyes. Tomorrow she'd have to pretend everything was still the same. That night, at least, she allowed herself to know it wasn't.