I Desired Her in Silence Until That Morning in the Coffee Grove

The roosters crowed every five minutes, as if they had a clock tucked into their feathers. Camila heard them from bed, with that mountain chill seeping all the way to her bones. The rooster crowed again and she refused to move, but the sky began to brighten and the light slipped through the crack in the window. It was useless to keep lying there.

She threw off the covers in stages, first down to her waist, fighting the urge to stay curled up beneath the blanket. And then one single thought stabbed through her head like a pin: Aurora.

To hell with laziness, to hell with the cold. She sprang up, opened her bedroom door, and stepped out into the corridor. The morning was dim, the fog had not yet lifted, and smoke from the stove was rising from the kitchen. Her eyes swept the whole corridor and did not find her. Aurora’s bedroom door was open too. Damn it, she thought, realizing she had taken too long and the other woman was already in the bathroom.

If there was one thing she loved about mornings, it was seeing Aurora just up, wearing that short robe that reached her knees and outlined every curve. The fabric clung to her chest and showed the nipples drawn up against the cotton, big, hard from the cold. The V-neck barely hinted at the swell of her breasts, as if inviting the gaze to linger there. Sometimes, when she lifted her arms to gather up her hair, the sleeve would shift for a second and reveal more than it should. Aurora hated sleeping in a bra, and that habit was Camila’s small blessing.

She did not have a huge bust, but it was firm, enough to attract attention. And what she lacked up top, she had in her hips: round, wide, imposing. The robe would ride between her ass cheeks as she walked, and there was very little left to the imagination. Her straight black hair fell down her back, her small slanted eyes gave her a sweet air, her lashes were long, her skin fair. Every detail of her was, to Camila, magnetic, impossible not to look at.

Aurora, Aurora, Aurora. What an irresistible woman. Too bad she could not stare at her forever. More than once she had gotten so lost looking that she ended up meeting the other woman’s piercing gaze, that silent look of reproach at being examined from head to toe. Because of all those times, Camila had learned to settle for furtive glances, split seconds in which she took her in whole from head to toe.

And she had wanted her from the very first day. What a bitter fate hers was: burning up in silence, settling for sidelong looks, masturbating at night while imagining her naked, fantasizing about a miserable kiss. Sometimes she cried alone in her room, wondering why God had not made her desire men, who did nothing for her. Several had courted her and all she could give them was a bored kind of contempt. But with Aurora, her eyes shone, her words stuck in her throat.

And what else could she do, the two of them stranded deep in the mountains, surrounded by coffee plants, seeing each other from dawn until night. They had breakfast together, ate lunch together, worked together. Camila delighted in combing her hair, leaning in close enough to steal the scent from it; she painted her nails just to feel the softness of her fingers; she listened to her talk about the boys who courted her, swallowing her bitterness, staring at her lips while fantasizing about kissing them. In the isolation of the estate, sometimes she wished she were one of those men just so she could court her the way she deserved. But no. That thought filled her with helplessness. Oh, Aurora, if only you knew how much I want you.

That morning, after sweeping the corridor with her eyes and giving her up for lost in the bathroom, she saw her come out of the kitchen. Her robe snug, her feet bare, her nipples swollen from the cold and her skin goosebumped, her hair disheveled. Beautiful. She took her in from head to toe before greeting her.

—How did you sleep, girl? —Aurora asked.

—Freezing my ass off. And you?

—Same here.

A hug, a peck on the cheek. Camila was content with those crumbs, and the small joy of feeling Aurora’s chest against hers was enough to hold back the emotion rising up her throat. She went into the kitchen to drink a cup of black coffee before bathing, grateful for the warmth of the firewood after the hug.

***

After the usual routine—bath and breakfast—Camila was in high spirits. That day the two of them were assigned to harvest alone in the upper part of the coffee grove, far from the house. The whole day just for them. She loved it because every so often she could stand there entranced watching Aurora fill the basket, with that strength and determination she had, working like any man but without losing a gram of delicacy.

The sun was already up, not a cloud in the sky, and it was hot as hell. Aurora was picking coffee under that merciless sun, completely soaked in sweat. It was delicious to watch the beads run down her neck, down her face, to watch her sweat-soaked shirt cling to her back. Camila did not know what it was about that woman, but she found it impossible to look away, even at the risk of being caught again at any moment if Aurora turned around.

She scrutinized her from head to toe. And looking, looking, an idea began to grow inside her with a new force. She stopped holding it back. She dropped the basket, moved behind Aurora, and ran her tongue along her neck while taking her breasts in both hands.

Aurora, as in control of herself as always, turned around and looked her straight in the eyes.

—Why did you do that? —she said—. Are you crazy?

—Yeah. Crazy for you —Camila replied.

—Can’t you see that’s a sin, you fool?

—I’d happily burn in hell for you.

Aurora remained impassive, stunned. For all the affection she had for her, it was impossible for her to treat her badly.

—I want to know why you did it —she insisted.

—Because ever since I met you, I’ve wanted you. It’s something that consumes me every time I see you, every time I touch you, every time I talk to you. At night I think about you. It’s stronger than me; that desire burns me, torments me nonstop. And I’d rather have you hate me than stay silent one more day.

Aurora fell silent, turning the confession over in her mind. For all the love she felt for her, she was not capable of getting angry. And there was something else: she had liked what she felt. No one had ever kissed her neck before, and that had made her feel something special. The idea of sin tormented her, but she could not deny it: that tongue and those hands had excited her. She could feel her sex throbbing between her legs. And she felt flattered; she would never have imagined that Camila desired her like that, or the courage it had taken to say it.

Seeing that Aurora was not getting mad, Camila took her hands and brought them back to her own breasts. Aurora squeezed them and let go at once. She had liked it. Her blood was boiling, and the truth was she had never been a prude: she loved thrills. But she did not want to let herself be ruled by what she felt.

Camila made a second attempt. She squeezed her chest again, gently, and when she saw she was allowing it, she kissed her neck once more. This time Aurora went completely slack, her body trembled at that tongue, and she understood that the other woman must want her badly to kiss her sweaty neck without the slightest disgust.

—We’re going to burn in hell —Aurora said, but now in acceptance.

—I already told you that as long as I’m with you, I’ll burn forever.

Camila understood that she had surrendered. She took her hands back to her breasts, and this time Aurora did not remove them. She took her by the chin and placed her lips on hers, slowly. She repeated it, and on the second kiss she bit her lower lip. Aurora kissed her back the same way, and then they were kissing hungrily. Camila’s heart was pounding a mile a minute; she could not believe such bliss, but she did not want to scare her off. She slid her hands under her shirt, then under her bra, and started stroking her breasts.

Aurora was speechless, overtaken by emotion, only the large gulps of air she kept taking over and over could be heard. She, who was never intimidated by anything, at that moment had no idea what to do. The only clear thing was that she did not want to stop kissing her. What softness, what delicacy, that wet tongue tracing her lips, bumping against her own. Camila was in heaven: her greatest desire was coming true and they had the whole day to themselves. At the house she could never have had her, but in the coffee grove she could. No one was going to bother them. They could give themselves over to whatever they wanted, moan without anyone hearing them. It was a dream come true.

Camila began to undress her, uncertain, thinking that at any moment Aurora would get scared and leave her halfway there. That was why she kept kissing her, running her fingers along her back. She lifted her shirt slowly; Aurora raised her arms and let her. Camila brought it to her face and smelled it while looking her in the eyes, drunk on the knowledge that her beloved was soaked in sweat and that that cloudless sun would have them sweating in streams. She wrapped an arm around her back and unclasped her bra. Aurora looked at her, and Camila, understanding she was stepping into unfamiliar territory, kissed her again and took off her own shirt and bra too, so as not to make things hard for her.

It was heaven. So many times staring at those breasts out of the corner of her eye, and now she had them there, all for her. Pink nipples, swollen, inviting her to suck them. Camila gathered her patience. She kissed her again, traced her neck with her tongue, sucked on it, licked it, and Aurora only writhed in those contortions so typical of pleasure. Without breaking contact with her mouth, she went down to her breasts and at last was able to suck those nipples. She closed her eyes and surrendered: she licked them, sucked them, slid her tongue up and down, in circles, gave little bites, moved from one to the other, her hands roaming her back. Aurora moaned in full ecstasy.

She was not even thinking anymore. No man had ever made her feel like that, and Camila’s lips were so soft, with no beard stubble scratching at her. Every so often the thought of sin would reach her, but it would die away with the next caress. If this is what sin feels like, she thought, let the devil take it, because I’ve never felt anything so good. Those electric shocks of pleasure were new and marvelous: the neck, the nipples, the fingers roaming her sweat-drenched body under the sun. And the more she sweated, the more enchanted Camila seemed.

Having received so much, Aurora wanted to give back. Since what undid her most were kisses on the neck, she started there. She stuck out her tongue, and when it touched skin she tasted that salty flavor of sweat; she told herself that if Camila did not mind hers, then she would not mind the other woman’s either. And she surrendered, imitating everything that had been done to her: she kissed it, sucked it, licked it. Like in a crash course, she had Camila soaring through the clouds. And when she started sucking her breasts—generous, full, those of that imposing mulatta—both of them only grew hotter.

Camila moved behind her and ran her tongue along her back, went up to her neck, down again, and Aurora kept moaning nonstop, rolling among the coffee plants, all for the two of them. She hesitated for a moment, but then she went for it: she slid her hand down her pants and felt Aurora’s hand stop her cold.

—No, not there —she said.

—Relax. I promise I’m going to make you come —Camila murmured, dying to.

—Are you sure? We’re going to be damned?

—I already told you that as long as I’m with you I’ll be damned a thousand times over. Quit being silly; this is going to be the hottest thing you’ve ever felt in your life.

She slipped her hand in again, felt her underwear, Aurora trembled. Camila pushed the fabric aside, slid her fingers in, and what a joy it was to find that sex flooded with moisture, throbbing. What happiness. So many times she had imagined it while touching herself thinking of her, and now she felt it for real, so wet she knew she was capable of making the object of her desire come.

She started at the beginning: she searched for the clitoris, found it hard, stroked it, went a little lower, slid her fingers in, then went back to playing up top, while with her other hand she held a breast and sucked her neck. The goal was to make her finish before going any deeper. With such stimulation, Aurora trembled, moaned, and, as turned on as she was, in a flash she came in Camila’s arms with the first orgasm of her life with a woman.

Camila stood up and took off her pants and underwear. She did it first so Aurora would let herself be stripped too, still startled. She removed her boots, made her stand up, slowly lowered her pants. Aurora had no idea what was coming. She let herself be undressed, Camila laid her on her spread shirt and kept touching her sex while sucking her breasts. She spread her legs, slowly lowered her tongue, never stopping the caresses, passed over her belly button, kept going down. Aurora sat up, frightened; Camila pushed her gently and laid her back down. With both hands she opened her legs, looked her in the eyes, and with that look told her everything. She pressed her mouth to that sex.

Aurora let out a scream and sat up again, but this time Camila firmly pushed her legs apart so she would not close them and took her pleasure. She moved her tongue up and down, sucked, felt the sweat and the sweet taste, pressed her nose there and got drunk on her scent. She was in paradise: what she had dreamed of so long, made real, and not even in her dreams had she imagined that any ordinary morning would end like this. She slid in two fingers without stopping sucking, searched for that inner spot until she found it, and Aurora thrust her hips each time she touched it, her whole body tightening. She too was in heaven; she never imagined it could feel like this much. She pushed her hips in an involuntary motion, her whole body tensed, stretched, curled, rolled in Camila’s hands, and had a long, deep orgasm that left her trembling from head to toe. Camila wanted to make her come again, but when she brushed the clitoris Aurora screamed and pushed her head away: she was too sensitive. Then she rose up and gave her a long kiss so she could taste her own flavor.

Now it was Camila who was desperate, and what she had always fantasized about while touching herself was rolling around on Aurora’s mouth. Without stopping to think whether Aurora would like it, she laid her down and climbed on top of her. To her surprise, Aurora received her with her tongue out, like a diligent student who had paid attention and was now putting it into practice. Camila moved her hips while Aurora ran her tongue over her clitoris, lifted it, lowered it, sucked it with a skill that did not seem beginner’s at all. With the heat she had and knowing it was the mouth of her beloved that was tasting her for the first time, Camila could not hold out: she came with the slightest effort, writhing in full ecstasy.

And Aurora, who in her life had never tasted or even smelled another woman’s sex, realized that that taste came from Camila, and in her innocence did not know what name to give it, but said nothing for fear of seeming foolish. She liked the flavor left in her mouth. Camila collapsed on top of her, kissed her deep, tongue sliding through, letting her know that she too loved tasting what desire left behind.

After all that excitement, Camila lay there on top of her for a few minutes, kissing her and stroking her hair. The moment was so sublime that words were unnecessary, the two of them stretched out among the coffee plants, the sun beating down on them and the whole day ahead of them.