The Christmas Eve Gift That Changed Everything Between Us

The last few months of the semester had been exhausting. Juggling classes at the university with my part-time job at the café downtown left me with just enough energy to get back to the apartment and collapse into bed. Even so, I didn’t complain. The routine kept my head straight and kept me from thinking about other things I didn’t want to think about.

In that chaos I made a few friends, but the one who mattered most to me was Camila. She was a reserved girl, with shoulder-length brown hair, thin-framed glasses, and the habit of wearing loose clothes that seemed determined to hide her. We became close almost without noticing: we studied together, drank coffee in her living room, talked about the guys at school and how little we understood about the future.

We usually got together at her apartment because mine was a battlefield. A month earlier I had moved in with two new roommates, and we still hadn’t found our rhythm. There were unopened boxes in the hallway, dirty dishes in the sink, and one of the girls listened to reggaeton at two in the morning. Camila, on the other hand, lived alone and had everything in its place.

She didn’t mind me visiting. She was from out of town, her family was more than a thousand kilometers away, and after the pandemic visits had become scarcer and scarcer. Christmas Eve was looming over her and it would be the first she’d spend away from her own people, so I decided to keep her company. No one should eat dinner alone on the twenty-fourth, and least of all her.

I cooked something simple in her kitchen: pasta with a creamy sauce my grandmother had taught me, fresh-baked bread, and two bottles of red wine I bought at the supermarket on the corner. The overhead light was too harsh, so I turned off the big lamp and left only the candles in the centerpiece and the lights on the tree on. The atmosphere turned warm, almost intimate.

Camila had come out of the bathroom in a long cotton dress, the kind that hangs loosely down to the ankles. I had stayed in a worn-out T-shirt and athletic shorts. We hadn’t planned to dress up. It was dinner just for the two of us, and that was exactly the point.

—How’s the move going? —she asked while looking for two deep plates in the cupboard.

—A neat disaster —I answered—. I’ve already managed to put the bed together, so that’s something.

—They told you way too late about the other girl.

—Yeah. She got a girlfriend, she’s moving in with her in January, and the three of us had to throw everything together in a rush.

—And Mateo? —she said, smiling sideways—. Didn’t you ask him to help?

I felt my cheeks heat up. Mateo was a guy from my program I’d been exchanging messages with for weeks at hours that weren’t exactly decent. She knew it. The faculty was small and rumors moved fast.

—We’ve been talking for a month —I said, laughing—. I’m not bringing him into my house yet. First I want to figure out what this even is.

—Still, he was looking at you like a puppy the last time he came to pick you up.

—Camila.

—It was just a comment.

We both laughed. She brought the pot from the kitchen, set it on a folded cloth so it wouldn’t burn the table, and served generous portions. I handled the wine. We toasted, clinked glasses, and started eating.

Dinner stretched on for hours. We talked about school, about the professors we hated, about the movies we liked, and about older things: the first time each of us had left our parents’ house, teenage crushes, disappointments. Without noticing, we uncorked the second bottle. By one in the morning our words had slowed a little, but neither of us was drunk. Just loose enough to say what we’d otherwise keep to ourselves.

Camila got up and walked over to the tree, which was tiny and resting on a low cabinet. She had decorated it herself with white lights and a few red ornaments.

—I have something for you —she said, bending down.

—You bought me something? I told you not to.

—I know. But I wanted to.

She came back with a small box wrapped in gold paper. She handed it to me and stood there in front of me with her hands folded over her dress. I pulled at the bow and carefully unwrapped the paper. Inside was a delicate silver necklace with a tiny heart-shaped pendant.

I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t gotten her anything and guilt tightened my chest.

—Cami, it’s beautiful, but I…

—Shh. You didn’t have to bring anything. This is for these months. And for tonight.

I hugged her tightly. She smelled like citrus perfume and something warmer I couldn’t quite place. When I pulled back, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright.

—Besides —she added, sitting on the couch—, I bought myself a gift too.

—Yeah? —I sat down in front of her—. What did you buy?

She pulled a rectangular box from behind a cushion, larger than mine, matte black. She set it on the coffee table between us and opened it. It took me two seconds to understand what I was looking at.

It was a vibrator. Small, palm-sized, with an elegant, discreet design. I looked up, searching for an explanation, but her expression wasn’t embarrassed. It was almost proud.

—It was on sale —she said with a shrug—. I never had one. I thought it was about time.

—Camila, are you seriously showing me that now?

—Does it make you uncomfortable?

—It’s not that. It’s just… —I laughed nervously—. I wasn’t expecting this.

—You tell me your things. I tell you mine.

She was right. I had told her more than enough about my dates, about Mateo, about the guy I’d been with in August and preferred not to remember. She, on the other hand, almost never talked about herself in that area. That was why seeing her like this, exposed, surprised me so much.

—And? —I asked—. Have you tried it yet?

—No.

—No?

—I was afraid I wouldn’t know how to use it —she said, and a shy smile slipped out—. I thought maybe you could… explain it to me.

I went quiet. The room was quieter than it should have been. Outside, someone set off a distant firecracker. The tree lights flickered against the ceiling.

—Do you want me to teach you how to use it? —I asked, not sure I’d heard her right.

She nodded. Barely. But she nodded.

***

Something shifted inside me, a mix of surprise and curiosity I had never felt with a woman before. Camila was looking at me from the couch with a determination that contradicted all her shyness. Her cheeks were burning; I could blame the wine, but her eyes were clear.

—Come closer —I said.

She lifted the box off the table and sat beside me. She took out the device and we read the instruction sheet together, a card folded into thirds with simple drawings. Three intensity levels. One button. Rechargeable with a USB cable. Almost a household appliance.

I turned it on at the lowest setting so she could feel the vibration in her palm. Camila rested her hand over mine, hesitated, then let her fingers close around the handle along with mine. The vibration was soft, almost a whisper against the skin.

—See? It doesn’t bite —I said.

—I’m not laughing.

—I know.

I switched it off and set it on the couch. Camila had moved closer without me noticing, or maybe I did notice and just didn’t want to stop her. She leaned her back against my chest, as if she needed to hide from something. Her hair brushed my neck. She smelled like almond shampoo.

I ran a hand through her hair, as slowly as I could. I stroked the side of her neck with my fingertips. She turned her head, searching for me, and I leaned in. The kiss was short at first, more a question than an answer. But she answered it immediately, opening her mouth against mine, letting my tongue in. She tasted like wine and something sweeter that was only hers.

I had never kissed a woman before. And yet it wasn’t strange. It was different. Her mouth was softer than any mouth I could remember, and her hands, when they settled on my waist, didn’t have the masculine urgency I was used to. They had patience, but also a disguised hunger. She slipped her fingers under my T-shirt, brushed my back skin, and sent a shiver through me that made her smile against my mouth.

This wasn’t part of the plan, I thought. And at the same time, it was.

I cupped her face with both hands and kissed her harder, biting her lower lip, sucking it slowly. She moaned softly, a short sound that escaped her without meaning to. I stroked the back of her neck, tangled my fingers in her hair, and tugged just a little, to test it. Camila arched against me as if I’d lit something on fire inside her.

—I didn’t know you’d like it —I whispered in her ear.

—Me neither.

I slid my hand down her stomach, over the dress. The fabric was thin, so thin I could feel the heat of her skin underneath and her breathing speeding up. I reached the hem, hooked it between my fingers, and slowly pulled it upward, exposing first the curve of her thighs, then the white underwear, simple, with a dark wet spot right in the center. Her pussy was soaked just from kissing me.

Camila held her breath. She didn’t say anything. She just opened her legs a little wider and looked at me with a new kind of embarrassment, as if only now she realized what she was asking for.

—You’re drenched —I said, and brushed my thumb over the fabric, pressing lightly.

—Don’t say that.

—Why not?

—Because it makes me even more embarrassed.

—But you are drenched, Cami. Look.

I showed her the tip of my finger, shiny, and ran it over her lower lip. She closed her eyes, stuck out her tongue, and slowly sucked my finger, without rushing, only looking at me when she had swallowed it all the way. Everything in me clenched, from my stomach down lower.

I took the vibrator in one hand and, with the other, stroked over the fabric. Just the fingertips were enough to draw out a sigh that sounded like she’d been holding it in for months. I turned the device on to the lowest setting and slid it slowly over her underwear, without pressure, letting the vibration do the rest. I found her clit through the fabric, found the swollen little bump, and stayed there, barely moving in circles.

—You have to relax —I whispered in her ear, and kissed her neck, sucking at the skin until I left a mark.

—I am relaxed.

—No, you’re not.

She let out a nervous laugh, brief, and closed her eyes. Her legs tensed and loosened, as if the body itself didn’t know what it wanted. I took her free hand and placed it over mine, around the vibrator. I wanted her to learn. I wanted her to understand what she was doing to herself.

—Like this —I said—. No rushing. This is your clit, do you feel it? Right up here. It’s the spot that’ll make you come the most.

—Sofía.

—Say it yourself.

—What?

—Say clitoris. Say it, it doesn’t bite.

—Clitoris —she whispered, and laughed, covering her face with her free hand.

We moved our hands together, in small circles. Camila started breathing with her mouth open, lips parted as if she were going to speak and then forgot each time. Her nipples stood hard through the dress, two sharp points beneath the thin cotton. The skin at her neckline had turned pink, all the way to the swell of her breasts.

I let go of her hand and pulled the dress up over her head in a movement she helped me finish herself. She ended up in a white bra and no panties, because she had already taken them off on her own in a clumsy motion and tossed them to the floor without looking. I unclasped her bra in back and slipped it down slowly. Her breasts were small, round, with pink nipples erect as if they’d been waiting for me for a long time.

—You’re beautiful, Cami.

—Don’t look at me like that.

—I’m going to look at you more than that.

I took one breast in my hand and bent down to suck on the other nipple. I licked it slowly, circling it with the tip of my tongue, then took it fully into my mouth and sucked hard. Camila arched her back and drove one hand into my neck, pressing me against her. I bit her nipple carefully, tugging just a little, and she let out a long moan she’d been swallowing until then.

I raised the vibrator one level and pressed it directly to her clit, this time with no fabric between us. Camila opened her legs as wide as she could, feet planted on the edge of the couch. I could see her pussy spread open, the pink lips shining with wetness, the entrance throbbing each time the device touched her.

—Look how wet you are —I said—. It’s leaking out of you.

—Don’t say that.

—I am saying it. Look.

I dragged the vibrator down over her swollen lips, soaking it in her own juices, and brought it back up to her clit. With my other hand I stroked her entrance, just one finger, not pushing in. She thrust her hips forward, searching for me, and I let the finger sink in under its own weight, slowly entering her hot, tight pussy.

—Oh, God.

—You’re so tight, Cami.

I slid the finger all the way in, slowly, and pulled it back out just as slowly. Then two. With two I drew a deeper sound from her, almost hoarse. I started pumping them in and out with a slow rhythm, feeling her whole body clench every time I pressed the vibrator against her clit at the same time. Her juices ran over my palm, down my wrist. I had never touched another woman like this, and yet my fingers seemed to know exactly where to go.

—Sofía, I’m going to…

—Not yet. Wait.

I pulled my fingers out, switched the vibrator off. Camila opened her eyes, confused, panting.

—Why did you stop?

—Because I want to taste you.

I slid down to the floor between her legs. I grabbed her thighs with both hands and spread them wider. The first close-up view of a woman’s pussy stopped me for a second: pink, swollen, with the clit peeking out from its hood, shiny, waiting for me. I leaned in slowly and gave her a first long lick, bottom to top, gathering all her juice with my tongue.

Camila let out a short cry and closed her legs by reflex, trapping my head. I laughed against her.

—Open up.

—Sorry. I didn’t know you were going to do that.

—Has no one ever eaten you out?

—Once. Badly.

—I’m going to eat you out properly now.

I spread her legs again and buried my tongue in her pussy. I found her clit with the tip, circled it, flattened it with the broad part. I sucked each lip one by one, tugging at them with my own. I pushed my tongue inside as far as I could, tasting her, and then went back to the clit and stayed there, sucking it with short pulls while I slipped two fingers back in.

Camila was unleashed. One hand was clamped to the back of the couch and the other buried in my hair, pulling my face harder and harder against her. Her hips moved on their own, fucking my face, grinding against my tongue with no shame at all. She wasn’t holding her moans back anymore: they spilled out long, high, broken by her gasping breath.

—Oh, Sofi, don’t stop, don’t stop, keep going, like that, there.

I curled my fingers upward, looking for that spot I knew from myself exactly where it was, and found it: a spongy roughness that made her cry out when I pressed it. I massaged it in circles while I kept sucking her clit, and with my other hand I stretched out my arm, grabbed the vibrator from the couch, and turned it to the highest setting.

I pressed it to her clit at the same time I shoved my fingers all the way in and pressed that spot inside her. Camila broke. Her whole body shook, her legs closing over my shoulders, the hand in my hair digging her nails in almost to my scalp. A long, sustained moan escaped from deep in her chest.

—I’m coming, I’m coming, oh God, I’m coming, I’m coming.

I felt her come in my mouth. A stream of warm liquid soaked my fingers, my chin, my neck. I didn’t stop. I kept sucking her clit through the trembling, kept the vibrator on her, pulling my fingers out and pushing them back in until she was nearly sliding off the couch.

—Enough, enough, I can’t take it —she said between laughs and gasps, pushing my face away with both hands.

I switched the device off. I pulled my fingers out slowly. Her face was red, sweaty, her hair stuck to her forehead. She looked down at me with a half-dazed, incredulous smile.

—Was it good? —I asked, resting my cheek on her thigh.

—I’ve never come like that before.

—Never.

—Never in my life.

I climbed back onto the couch and lay down beside her. She took two minutes to recover, breathing deeply, and then rolled onto her side and looked at me with a new determination.

—Now you.

—Cami, you don’t have to.

—Shut up.

She pulled my T-shirt off over my head. I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. She looked at my breasts for a second, almost shyly, and then bent down and sucked one nipple. At first uncertain, then better. Her tongue moved on its own, learning. She pulled down my shorts and panties together, clumsy but determined.

When her mouth slid down my stomach, when she spread my legs and settled between them, I had to bite my lip not to shout. She licked me slowly, curious, tasting me. Then she sucked my clit with the same mouth that had kissed me through months of coffee and confessions, and I understood that Camila learned fast when she wanted to.

She slipped her fingers in just as she figured out the rhythm. She curled them upward the way I had curled mine, looking for the same thing I had searched for in her. And I came under her tongue in less time than I want to admit, moaning her name against the back of the couch, my legs closed around her head.

When we were both done, we ended up sprawled out, one on top of the other, half-naked, with the vibrator forgotten on the coffee table and the candles nearly burned down. I stroked her bare back with my fingertips.

—Thank you —she whispered, still against my shoulder.

—You don’t have to thank me for this.

—Yes, I do.

She lifted her face and kissed me again, this time slower. No urgency. As if the rest of the night belonged to us and there was no rush. She ran her tongue over my mouth and I could still taste her on myself, and she didn’t mind.

I turned the device off completely and left it on the coffee table. Camila settled against me, her legs bent to one side, her head on my chest. I covered her shoulders with a blanket that had been on the back of the couch. Outside, distant firecrackers kept going off. The tree blinked against the ceiling in slow intervals.

I thought about Mateo, about the messages he’d sent me that same afternoon and that I still hadn’t answered. I thought about the next morning, about how we were going to look each other in the eye when the sun came up. I didn’t know what would happen after that. I didn’t care very much.

—Merry Christmas, Cami —I said.

—Merry Christmas, Sofía.

She fell asleep first. I watched her for a while longer, listening to her breathing, and understood that tonight wasn’t enough for me to give the necklace back. I owed her something bigger, and I still didn’t know what it was.