That Night, on the Way Home, I Took Control

The car moved silently through the streets of Seville. Andrés drove, focused, his hands firm on the wheel. I watched through the window as the lights passed in a blur, orange and white melting together in the dark.

It really happened.

Pilar and Gabriel walking toward their home hand in hand. Us heading back to ours. Everything over. Or maybe everything just beginning.

I felt the tiredness in my bones, but not the kind that drains you. It was the exhaustion of having done something important, of having used body and mind to the limit and made it to the other side. And something more. A low, persistent heat that wouldn’t go out.

Andrés glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

—Are you okay? —he asked softly.

—Yes —I said, and it was true—. And you?

—Me too.

He looked back at the road. His profile lit at intervals by the streetlights. Twenty-two years looking at that profile, and now it was as if I were seeing it for the first time in a long while. I reached out and laid my hand on his thigh. Higher than normal.

—Beatriz... —he whispered.

—Keep driving —I said calmly.

I slid my hand up to his crotch. He was already half hard. I squeezed slowly and he let out his breath through clenched teeth.

—Focus on the road —I added, rubbing him over his jeans.

Andrés gripped the wheel with both hands. His knuckles went white. He kept driving, but his breathing had quickened. I undid the button, pulled down the zipper with a metallic sound that filled the car, and slipped my hand inside. The heat of his hard cock against my palm. I took it out right there while he was driving.

I started to jerk him off slowly. Firmly. Squeezing a little harder when I got to the head.

—Fuck, Beatriz... —he gasped. The car swerved slightly and he corrected it at once.

—Focus —I repeated.

I sped up. I felt his whole body tense, his hips pushing helplessly against my hand.

—I’m going to... I’m going to come...

—No —I said—. Not yet.

And just as I felt him swell, seconds from the end, I stopped. I let go of his cock, pulled my hand away. Andrés looked at me for a moment with huge, desperate eyes.

—Beatriz, I was about to...

—I know —I smiled—. Save it for home.

I took my fingers to my mouth and sucked them slowly. He clenched his jaw.

—You’re mean —he panted.

—I’m affectionate —I corrected him—. When we get there, you’re going to fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow. But now, put it away. You can’t get to the building like that.

He obeyed with trembling hands.

***

We got out of the car. Andrés walked awkwardly, taut, while I smiled at the cool night air on my face. In the elevator I pressed against his back and ran my hands over his torso until I grabbed him over his pants.

—Don’t move —I whispered in his ear.

—Beatriz...

—Still. When we get inside, you’re going to do exactly what I tell you. Understand?

—Yes —he gasped.

I pulled my hand away just as the doors opened. We reached the door, he fumbled for the keys, almost missing the lock, and as soon as he shut the door behind us he shoved me against the hallway wall.

—Fuck, Beatriz, I need...

—I know what you need —I said.

His mouth found my neck, urgent. I took off my T-shirt and bra, and he bent to my breasts, sucking hungrily while I pulled his cock out again and jerked him firmly. Then something changed in him. He looked at me with wild eyes. No longer just desperate: pure need.

—I can’t take it anymore —he growled.

He spun me around sharply. My chest against the wall, his hands on my hips.

—I need to fuck you. Now.

And I didn’t stop him.

—Then fuck me —I panted.

He yanked my pants and panties down to my thighs. I leaned forward, braced my hands on the wall, and pushed my ass back, offering myself. One hand on my hip, the other guiding himself, and he drove into me in one thrust, all the way to the hilt.

I screamed. Half pain, half pleasure. I was wet but not ready, and the entry was violent.

—Harder —I panted—. Fuck me harder.

Andrés growled and sped up. His hips slamming into me, his fingers digging into my skin. The wet sound of each thrust filled the hallway.

—Spank me —I asked—. Give me a smack.

He hesitated for a second. Then his hand struck my ass. The sting spread and I moaned louder.

—Again. Harder.

Another smack. And another. My ass burning, every blow driving me more against him.

—I’m going to come —he panted.

—Do it. Come inside me.

He tensed, drove into me one last time to the hilt, and stayed there. I felt his cock throb and the heat filling me. He collapsed against my back, trembling.

—Sorry —he whispered—. I was too rough...

—Don’t apologize. It was perfect.

He withdrew slowly and I felt the semen running down my thigh. I turned, grabbed his cock, still soft, and tugged him along.

—Come.

***

In the bedroom I put my hands on his chest and pushed. He fell back onto the bed. He yanked off his pants in a rush and lay there, naked, waiting. I stripped off what was left tangled around my ankles.

—You know what you’re going to do now, right? —I said.

He looked at my sex, the semen shining on my thighs, and understood.

—I’m going to clean you up —he whispered.

—Everything you marked.

I climbed onto the bed, one knee on each side of his head, and lowered myself. His tongue welcomed me immediately, licking, going in, taking out what he himself had left inside. I gripped the headboard with one hand and with the other held his hair, guiding him.

—Deeper —I ordered.

I started moving against his mouth, dragging my sex from his chin to his forehead, using him. His nose brushed my clit with every motion.

—There —I gasped—. The clit. Suck it.

He took it between his lips and sucked, gently at first, harder when I pressed his head. I felt the orgasm building, fast, intense.

—Don’t stop...

I came screaming, my hips pushing against his face, pleasure crashing through me in waves. He didn’t stop until I was done. When I lifted my hips and looked down, his face was wet and shining, and his eyes were fixed on me with a mix of adoration and need.

—Good boy —I whispered.

And I saw his cock, which had gone soft, start to harden again.

I got off the bed and went to the nightstand. I took out the lubricant, a small vibrator, and the harness with the dildo I had used that night. I came back.

—Turn over —I said.

Andrés obeyed. He ended up face down, his ass exposed. I knelt between his legs, spread his cheeks, and lowered my head. I licked. Slowly, soaking him with saliva, feeling him shudder.

—Relax —I murmured against his skin—. Let me.

He let out his breath and I felt his muscles give. I pressed the tip of my tongue, barely entering, and he moaned and pushed back, wanting more. When he was well wet, I put lubricant on my fingers and slid in my index finger. It went in easily this time. I searched for that spot that drove him crazy and, when I found it, his whole body went rigid.

—There —I said—. Right?

—Yes... fuck, yes.

I rubbed it with my fingertip, slow circles, and he pushed his ass back, asking for more. I added a second finger, slowly, stretching him. His cock was fully hard again, trapped against the bed, dripping.

—Look at you —I whispered—. Hard again already.

I pulled my fingers out, smeared on the vibrator, and pushed it in centimeter by centimeter until it was all the way inside. Then I switched it on. Andrés screamed, his body convulsing, his hands tearing at the sheets.

—I’m going to come like this...

—Not yet —I said, and switched it off.

I withdrew it slowly. His entrance stayed open, dilated, ready. I put on the harness, adjusted the straps at my hips, and coated the dildo generously. Andrés turned his head, saw it, and opened his eyes wide.

—Shhh —I said—. You can do it. You’re ready now.

I knelt behind him, guided the tip to his entrance, and pushed.

—Breathe. Relax for me.

It went in slowly, with more resistance than the vibrator, but his body was open, willing. Centimeter by centimeter, until the harness pressed against his ass. I stayed still, letting him feel it.

—It’s too much... —he groaned.

—It isn’t. You’re taking it all. Look at yourself.

—Do you want me to move? —I asked.

—Yes... please.

I pulled almost all the way out and shoved in again, deep. I started slowly, long, steady thrusts, my hands on his hips. Then faster, harder, the harness slamming against him.

—Harder —he begged—. Please.

I pressed his torso down against the bed, his ass raised, completely surrendered, and sped up mercilessly. I lifted my hand and spanked him. And again. His skin turning red under my marks.

—I’m going to come —he panted—. I’ve never... without touching myself...

—Yes, you can. Come with my cock inside you.

I gave him three final brutal thrusts, driving him into the mattress. Andrés came screaming, his whole body convulsing, shooting onto the sheets without anyone touching him, spurt after spurt. I kept moving slowly through his orgasm, lengthening it, until he collapsed trembling.

I pulled the dildo out carefully, took off the harness, and lay down beside him. I stroked his back in soft circles.

—Good boy —I whispered—. You did so well.

He turned his head toward me, glassy-eyed, lost, happy.

—That was... —he didn’t finish.

—I know —I smiled.

He turned over, hugged me, and kissed me, soft, slow, with love.

—I love you —he murmured.

—Me too.

***

Hot water poured over us. Steam filled the bathroom. Andrés behind me, soaping my back carefully. No urgency, no hunger. Just care. I closed my eyes and let the water wash away the sweat and tiredness, but not the memory. That stayed.

—That was incredible —he whispered—. Tonight... you... us...

—Yes —I said, and fell silent, because I didn’t know how to finish the sentence. It had been more than incredible. Transformative. As if every time we made love, something else opened inside me.

—What are you thinking about? —he asked, stroking my wet hair.

—About Pilar. And Gabriel. About what we did for them. We helped both of them. She’s free now, and he found what he needed. And it makes me feel... useful. As if I’d done something important.

I lifted my head and looked at him.

—I want to do more. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I can help more people. I’ve been thinking about signing up for a course. Home care assistant, something like that. Caring for older people, for people who are alone, who need someone to really see them.

The words came out on their own, as if they had been waiting for a long time.

—And maybe after that setting up something small. A care agency. Professional, but with affection. Does that make sense?

Andrés moved my hair away from my face and smiled.

—It makes perfect sense. You see people like no one else. I saw it with Pilar: how you listened to her, how you helped her find her strength.

—Would you support me? Signing up for a course at fifty-two, going back to study...

—I support you in everything. Always. And I could help you with the technical side, the systems. I have contacts. This could be something big, and I want to be part of it. With you.

He held me tighter under the water, and I clung to him.

I don’t know why I feel this. This need to help. But it’s strong, almost as if it’s what I’m supposed to do. As if I’d been waiting for it my whole life.

—Tomorrow I’m looking for courses —I said against his chest—. And I’m starting.

—Tomorrow —he confirmed.

We dried off and got into bed, with clean sheets and a future that suddenly looked bigger. I fell asleep in his arms with a smile and a peace I hadn’t felt in years.

***

I opened my eyes with the midmorning sun coming through the curtains. Saturday. Andrés was still asleep, calm. I stretched carefully so as not to wake him. My body pleasantly sore, my muscles tired, but everything fine.

When I came back from the bathroom, he was looking at me from the bed with a lazy smile.

—Good morning —he said in a hoarse voice.

I slid back under the sheets and we stayed wrapped in each other for a while.

—We should go see Pilar and Gabriel —I said at last—. I need to know they’re okay. That what happened last night didn’t just stay in the rush of the moment.

—Today? —he asked.

—Let me write to her.

I picked up my phone. “Pilar, good morning. How are you both? Can we come by and see you for a bit?” The reply came almost immediately: “Beatriz! Yes, please, come. Gabriel is making lunch. Around one?”

I showed the message to Andrés, who smiled.

—Things have changed —I said.

—Completely.

***

At ten to one we went upstairs. Pilar opened the door before we’d even finished knocking, with a huge smile and a coral dress with a generous neckline. She hugged both of us and let us in. The apartment smelled like home cooking.

—Gabriel has become quite the chef lately —she said, guiding us to the living room, where the table was set for four.

Gabriel appeared wearing an apron, smiling. He kissed each of us on both cheeks.

—Stewed chicken and baked potatoes —he announced—. My mother’s usual.

We sat down. He poured beers and we chatted about random things: the weather, the neighbors, some work being done on the building. There was complicity between them, something comfortable, new.

After a while Gabriel got up to finish preparing lunch and Andrés offered to help him. Before he went to the kitchen, he held my gaze and smiled. Pilar and I were left alone. Through the kitchen opening I could see them moving about, speaking in low voices.

—They look so good together —Pilar commented, leaning back on the sofa.

—You can tell there’s chemistry.

—There is —she lowered her voice, though they couldn’t hear us—. Last night, when we got home, I expected him to be weird, embarrassed. But no. He took my hand, led me to the bedroom, and really fucked me. Not like before, mechanical. He kissed me until I couldn’t breathe, touched me as if my body were precious.

I felt heat in my chest.

—Tell me more —I asked.

—Then he went down on me without me saying a word and ate me out for half an hour. He made me come three times, and between orgasms he kept telling me he wanted me. This morning I woke up with his tongue on me again. And all this is thanks to you two.

My breathing had quickened. She noticed and smiled wider.

—You know what turns me on? —she whispered—. Watching them. Together. Knowing what they do.

—Me too —I admitted.

We stayed looking at each other, both of us breathing harder, until they came back with the steaming dishes.

—Here it is —Gabriel said, serving—. I hope you like it.

It was delicious, and we told him so. He blushed with pleasure. We ate, and the conversation started out normal —work, plans—, but the energy had changed.

Andrés brushed my leg under the table. Casually. But his hand stayed there, sliding slowly up my thigh. I looked at him and he held my gaze. Meanwhile, Pilar leaned forward and Gabriel couldn’t tear his eyes from her neckline.

—Are you hot? —she asked, fanning herself. Without waiting for an answer, she undid another button. The curve of her breasts came into view.

Andrés’ hand went under my skirt, pushed the fabric aside, and touched me directly. I closed my eyes for a second.

—Beatriz —Pilar whispered. When I looked at her, she knew exactly what was going on—. You’ve gone red.

—The wine —I said, my voice shaking.

She held my gaze and slipped her hand under the table. I saw her arm move. Gabriel stifled a moan.

—It’s hot down here too —she murmured.

—I think —Gabriel said, his voice strangled— that we should finish eating.

—Yes —Pilar replied, not letting him go—. Before things get too hot.

We laughed, but the tension was still there, palpable, electric. Andrés withdrew his hand and I smoothed my skirt discreetly. We finished in a charged silence, every look full of meaning.

When we cleared the plates, Gabriel announced that he was going to make coffee.

—I’ll help —Andrés offered, getting up.

Pilar looked at me from the sofa and bit her lip. I smiled back. This was only just beginning.