My Girlfriend Surprised Me That Afternoon in the Pine Grove

We’d been in a comfortable rut for months. Carla and I loved each other, that wasn’t in question, but routine had done its quiet work. Dinner, the series, weekend sex always with the same choreography. I sometimes watched her and thought she deserved more, that I deserved more, that we deserved something that would shake us up. I’d told her in a thousand gentle ways. She’d smile, kiss my forehead, and go back to her usual self: affectionate, submissive, willing. But she was never the one who took the initiative to surprise me.

I had noticed the way she looked at Lucía. Not in a stupid way. It was something subtler. When Lucía crossed the room, Carla followed her with her eyes a second too long. And when the four of us were talking and Lucía grabbed my arm while laughing, Carla would clench her jaw a little and then smile as if nothing had happened. We never mentioned it. It was ground neither of us wanted to step on first.

Diego had been my friend since university. Long talks, laughter, whole weekends lost on his sofa. When he started dating Lucía a year ago, he put some distance between us. It wasn’t overnight, but I noticed it. To me, Lucía had always seemed dangerously beautiful. Brown skin, dark curly hair, green eyes, and that way of looking straight at you when she talked. The kind of woman who touches your forearm and pins you with her gaze and you forget what you were saying.

The first dinner at our place was Carla’s idea. They arrived at nine. Lucía was wearing a short black dress, tight, with a neckline that was practically an invitation. I kissed her on both cheeks and caught her perfume, sweet and expensive. Carla hugged her for a long time, told her she looked gorgeous, and led her into the living room.

We drank wine. By the time the second bottle was gone, we were all speaking louder and laughing at nothing. For the first time in a conversation between the four of us, Diego let something slip about the first time he slept with Lucía. She blushed but didn’t stop him. Carla asked questions. Lucía answered with details I hadn’t expected to hear. She confessed she was on the pill, that she had worn thongs only since she was fifteen, and that she liked swallowing Diego’s cum when she was in the mood. My mind drifted somewhere else. I saw Carla glance at me for an instant, read my face, and return to the conversation without saying a word.

I took out my phone and suggested photos. The first were the usual ones: the four of us together, the two couples. Carla got up to fetch dessert and went into the kitchen. I stayed behind, focusing on Lucía. She posed, laughing, tilting her head. I showed her the photo and she liked it. She went back to talking with Diego. The camera was still open in my hands. I took another shot while she was looking elsewhere, without warning. And then, I don’t know whether it was the wine or the conversation or what had been waking up in me for half an hour, I zoomed in and took a close-up of her neckline, of the line of her tits squeezed by the black bra, of the cleavage where two freckles had joined.

Carla passed behind me at that exact moment, carrying the fruit plate in her hands. She saw the screen. She said nothing. She sat down, served the fruit, and changed the subject. I looked at her, searching for some sign, and found none. Tonight, when they leave, I’m getting the lecture of the year. But when we closed the door, Carla only said:

—We need to see them again soon.

***

We got together again three weeks later. It was a hot afternoon in May and Diego came up with the idea of going to the pine grove on the outskirts. A huge vacant lot, with stone tables scattered among the pines, where we used to have barbecues when we were kids. At that hour there was practically nobody there. A couple with a dog in the distance, a group of boys playing football on the other side of the path. Otherwise, our silence and the pines.

We brought beers, a bottle of rum, ice in a cooler, a deck of cards, meat for the barbecue, and a small speaker. Diego lit the coals. Carla and Lucía put on music. I set myself to filling glasses.

An hour later, the four of us were already a bit tipsy. Diego couldn’t hold his alcohol like he used to. You could hear it in his voice, in the way he dragged out his words a little, in the persistence with which he hugged Lucía every two minutes. At first she let him, played along, until he started going too far. He slipped his hand around her waist, kissed her neck in the middle of a sentence, tried to lower the strap of her top and work his fingers inside her shorts, fishing for her cunt over her thong. Lucía brushed his hand away without getting angry, laughing, but now with a hint of annoyance.

Carla and I had also had a bit too much. I looked at her during a song and thought she was more beautiful than the first day I’d met her. She was wearing a thin open shirt over a top, short shorts, her hair tied up, and little earrings that swayed when she laughed. She laughed a lot that afternoon.

I went to the cooler for ice and she came after me. She sat on the bench with her back to the table, facing the trees, while I rummaged around. I picked up a small ice cube and, before she saw it coming, ran it down the back of her neck. She jerked and let out a low laugh.

—Idiot.

I didn’t answer. I lowered my mouth slowly along her neck, just behind her ear, and felt the skin on her forearm prickle. Outwardly she stayed still. Inside, I knew her. I slipped my hands under her shirt, over her top, and grabbed her tits firmly. I knew them well, and that was one of the things I was best at with her. I squeezed them, cupped them, pinched her nipples carefully through the fabric until I felt them harden like little stones, and I heard a long breath escape her through her nose.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Diego and Lucía three meters away, still dancing, him trying to convince her of something and her shaking her head, amused. I used the moment to slip a hand inside her top and grab her tit directly, no fabric. Hot skin, the nipple rock-hard between my fingers. With my other hand I slid down her stomach and pressed her cunt over her shorts. Carla closed her eyes and spread her legs a little without realizing it. She was already wet; you could tell even through the denim.

When she opened them, I saw something different. It wasn’t the soft look of the nights at home. It was something more awake, more determined. She looked at the pines, looked at me, looked at Diego and Lucía, and back at me.

—Come with me —she said.

She got up, took my hand, and pulled. She walked right past Diego and Lucía without slowing and, in a loud, clear voice I had never heard her use before, she said:

—I’m stealing my boyfriend for a bit. I always wanted to suck his cock in this park, and today’s the day.

I let myself be led, so stunned I didn’t even know what expression to make. Diego burst out laughing.

—Jesus, Carla, don’t do this to me, Lucía won’t suck me off even on New Year’s!

Lucía stood there looking at us for a second, lips parted, saying nothing. I saw the tip of her tongue pass over her lower lip. It wasn’t a rehearsed gesture. It was instinct.

Carla took me to a thick pine tree, a few steps from the clearing where they were. Not so far that we’d be hidden, not so close that they’d touch. A place where they could see us and we could see them.

She shoved me against the trunk. She crouched down. In one tug she pulled my shorts down. My cock was already hard, aching, the briefs barely containing it and the tip bulging wet against the fabric. Carla ran it across her face like that, over the cotton, eyes closed, rubbing her cheek and mouth against the bulge as if she were smelling something she’d wanted for months. I can’t believe it. Any second now she’ll stop, laugh, and drag me to the car. But no.

She lifted her face, looked at me straight on, and opened her mouth against the fabric. She smiled. She yanked the briefs down to my knees and my cock sprang free, hard, swollen, pointing at her face. She let out a little laugh, almost with pride, as if it were a prize she’d earned.

—Look at this beautiful cock I’ve got —she murmured, more to herself than to me—. And all mine too.

—Carla —I said, not really sure why.

She shushed me. She stuck out her tongue and gave me a long lick from my balls to the tip, flattening the vein underneath, savoring it. Then another. Then she took my balls into her mouth, one first, then both at once, sucking them with her eyes closed while she held my cock in her hand and jerked it slowly. I felt the heat of her mouth on a place where I’d barely ever put it, and my knees went weak all at once.

—Fuck, Carla.

She slid her tongue up again and took me all the way in. In one stroke. To the throat. I felt her gag for a second, pull back, swallow, and take me in again. All the way down again. And again. As if she were measuring herself, breaking a record nobody had asked her to break.

At first she did it slowly, taking her time, showing off every movement. I felt the temperature of her mouth, the saliva overflowing at the corners and running down her chin in two thick threads, her tongue sweeping over the frenulum every time she came back up. She closed her lips tight around the base and sucked inward as she rose, leaving my cock glossy, sticky, with a filthy wet sound. I sighed and looked over at the other two. They were closer than I’d thought.

***

Diego wasn’t laughing anymore. Now he was speaking to Lucía in a low, insistent voice. He pointed toward us, toward Carla’s mouth full of my cock, toward his own bulge outlined in his pants. Lucía shook her head, looked away, then looked back at us. I could see Carla’s crouched silhouette perfectly from where they were, with her left tit already out of her top, hanging loose, swaying with each movement of her head. She knew it too. And she liked it.

I ran a hand through her hair and set the rhythm, slowly. Carla stopped for a moment, stuck out her tongue, and gave my cock a long lick from the bottom to the tip, leaving a strand of saliva connecting her to her lips. She spat on the tip and used the saliva to jerk me with her hand while turning her head toward the next pine tree. Without letting go of my base, she raised her voice so it would carry to the others:

—Am I the only one who’s going to suck a cock this afternoon?

She took me back in, this time faster, with her hand moving up and down to the rhythm of her mouth, squeezing hard at the base, folding my cock against her palate. My legs were beginning to shake. With her other hand she reached for her tits, pinched the nipple hanging out, and then slid her hand down inside her shorts. I watched her rub her cunt while she sucked me. Her eyes went glassy.

I heard footsteps in the dirt. I looked over. Diego had come closer to the next tree, dragging Lucía with him. Lucía was walking slowly, a little dizzy, biting her lip. Diego leaned against the trunk like I had, whispered something to her, and she finally crouched down, reluctant. She fumbled with his belt and freed his cock. She held it in her hand for a second, examining it, before opening her mouth. I saw her grimace at first, as if fulfilling a promise, and how by the second lick she’d forgotten everything and started sucking him with gusto.

At that distance, I could hear the sound of her blowjob almost as loudly as Carla’s. Two mouths sucking two cocks, two strings of saliva, two hands working two bases. The synchronicity was strange, almost comic, if you weren’t inside the moment. Diego had his eyes closed, head thrown back, panting hard, one hand on the back of Lucía’s neck guiding each thrust into her throat. I assumed he’d been asking her for months. I thought about how absurd it all was and, at the same time, how perfectly arranged it was, as if the script had been written by someone who knew the four of us.

Carla sped up. I lowered my eyes and saw that she was looking up at me from below, mouth full, eyes shining, a string of saliva hanging from her lip to my cock. I ran my hands from her hair to her shoulders, from her shoulders to her chest. I unfastened the rest of the buttons on her shirt and pulled her top down until both her tits were out. Pale nipples, big, hard, pointing at me. I pinched them softly and then harder. I twisted one until she let out a low moan with her mouth still full, a moan that made her throat vibrate around my cock. I pushed my hips a little and fucked her mouth slowly, two, three, four times. She didn’t pull away. On the contrary. She grabbed my thighs and dug in her nails and opened her throat wider.

I looked back at Lucía. And Lucía was looking at me.

Not at Carla. At me. She had Diego’s cock in her mouth halfway down, her curly hair swaying with each movement, a line of spit shining on her chin, and her green eyes fixed on my face. She held my gaze five, six, seven seconds. I didn’t count them but I felt them. Without stopping sucking him, she pulled Diego out for a second, pressed him against her lips and gave him two slow licks, watching me, and then took him back in with her mouth wide open, never looking away. And I knew, with a clarity that stole my breath, that she was thinking exactly the same thing I was. That she was wondering whether the cock in her mouth was her boyfriend’s or mine. That she was imagining mine down her throat, not the one Diego was thrusting into her. That I was imagining hers, tight, with that broad tongue and those thick lips she had. That I was imagining coming inside her and watching the cum leak from the corners of her mouth.

I felt the first surge rise through my legs, clenching my balls. Carla noticed instantly, stopped for a second and, with a voice rough from all the swallowing, still staring at me, asked:

—Do you want to cum in my mouth? Or would you rather cum on my tits so she can see?

—In your mouth —I told her, grabbing the back of her neck—. And you swallow everything. Let her see you swallow it.

She smiled around me. She took me back to the throat, pressed her lips tight, and started sucking inward with a force I’d never seen in her. Her tongue curled underneath me, her teeth brushing carefully at the base every time she came back up. Lucía was still watching me. I saw her clamp her thighs tighter together and rub them against each other, as if something was itching, with Diego’s cock still buried halfway down her throat.

I came while looking into Lucía’s green eyes. I let out a low grunt, clamped my hand on Carla’s neck, and emptied myself into her mouth in four, five long spasms. The first contraction I felt inside Carla’s mouth, hot, on her tongue. The second escaped at the corner of her mouth, reached her lip, her chin, ran down her neck to the tit she had out, and hung from her nipple like a pearl. The third she swallowed whole and I watched her throat moving. The fourth she sucked deliberately, tightening her cheeks. The fifth she pulled out and squeezed it from the tip with her fingers so she wouldn’t lose a single drop. Carla closed one eye, smiling, not letting go entirely. She kissed the tip slowly, like a thank-you, gave the vein underneath a clean lick, and licked the corner of her mouth, taking the thread inside with her finger. I stroked her face, brushed a lock of hair aside. I answered her with the most surrendered smile I had.

—Good girl —I told her softly, and I don’t know where it came from.

She closed her eyes as if the words had hurt her in exactly the right place.

Diego warned Lucía with a rough, almost animal growl. She turned her face away at the last second, jerked his cock with her hand two, three times, very fast, and pointed him toward the pine tree. The first load shot against the bark, the second stained her knuckles, the third she guided off with her thumb and onto the foreskin. Her dress didn’t get dirty. She calculated the angle with a precision that seemed heroic to me. She wiped her fingers on Diego’s shorts, looking straight at me. And with two fingers she ran them over her tongue afterward, very slowly, never breaking eye contact, like someone sending a message that could not be misunderstood.

***

When the four of us went back to the table, nobody said anything for a while. Carla had buttoned her shirt back up but still had a shiny ring on her chin and a dried drop in her cleavage that she hadn’t bothered to clean off completely. Lucía sat across from me. Diego collapsed onto the bench with a blessed expression. I poured ice. My hands shook less than I expected.

Lucía lifted her glass, looked at me over the rim, and took a long drink without breaking eye contact. She ran her tongue over her upper lip, slowly, and I don’t know whether she was cleaning herself or sending me another postcard. Carla grabbed my cock under the table, over my pants, and squeezed it. Not exactly affectionately. More like a signature.

That night, back home, she was waiting for me inside the shower. Naked, her hair soaked and plastered to her face, one nipple still red from the afternoon. She grabbed my cock the moment I stepped in, jerked it slowly under the water, and squeezed it at the base. She pressed herself to me, pushed her tongue into my mouth hungrily, bit my lower lip. She turned me against the tiles, dropped to her knees again, and sucked me fast, filthy, noisy, until she got me hard as a rock. She stood up, pressed her back to the wall, spread her legs, and guided my cock into her cunt herself.

—Fuck me thinking about her —she whispered in my ear—. Don’t stop.

And I gave it to her. I fucked her against the tiles, grabbing her wet tits, biting her neck, while she dug her nails into my ass to make me drive into her harder. All the while she whispered in my ear everything she had seen: Lucía crouching down, Lucía opening her mouth, Lucía letting the spit spill, Lucía looking at me while she sucked Diego off. She came with her legs clamped around my waist, biting my shoulder to keep from screaming. I came inside her a minute later, holding her weight against the tiles, my forehead pressed to hers.

She grabbed me by the neck, her face very close to mine and the water running over both of us, and said:

—Next time I want her. In our bed. Licking my pussy while you fuck her. And then you eat me out with her cunt in your mouth.

And I understood, with a small shiver, that I’d been wrong for months. That Carla had never been submissive. She had only been waiting.