The Proposal I Didn’t Expect on My Birthday

The first sign came on a Tuesday afternoon, with a message from my family announcing that on Saturday Sofía and I were expected for my birthday celebration. I told her as soon as I hung up the phone. Her answer was a “that’s great,” said without looking up from the dresser she was tidying. Something in her tone struck me as different. I didn’t say anything else; I left her to it. But I started keeping an eye on her.

The following days passed without any apparent news. Sofía didn’t bring it up, and neither did I. Normal, on the surface. But I know her well, and she was hiding something.

***

On Monday night I came home from work tense. I swore under my breath while trying to chop some onions, and Sofía, who heard me from the living room, came up behind me without making a sound. She wrapped her arms over my shoulders, stroked my breasts with both hands, and kissed my neck slowly.

—What’s wrong? —she whispered in my ear—. Do you want me to fuck you right now?

—Yes, please —I replied without hesitation.

—And why didn’t you ask me before?

I shrugged like a spoiled child. She smiled against my skin and bit my earlobe. With one hand she kept working my breasts over my blouse, squeezing them hard, pinching my nipples until they stood up hard against the fabric; with the other she unbuttoned my pants, slipped her fingers under my underwear, and went straight down, unhurried but without detours. I leaned back against her body, let my head fall and found her mouth with mine. We kissed like that, standing in the kitchen, her tongue in my mouth, while two of her fingers pried my cunt open little by little and her thumb found my clit and started circling that exact spot that makes me forget everything else.

—You’re soaking wet —she whispered in my ear, laughing softly—. Look at how you’re getting my hand wet.

—Shut up —I gasped, squeezing her wrist so she wouldn’t stop.

She slid her fingers all the way in and curled them, searching for me deep inside. I arched against her, braced on the edge of the counter, with the cutting board still full of onion beside us. She fucked me with her hand like that, standing up, calm, while she whispered filthy things in my ear: that she was going to fuck me until I begged her to stop, that she had me on her fingertips, that she could feel me dripping.

—Don’t make me wait any longer —I told her in a broken whisper.

She turned me around, kissed me with her mouth devouring mine, and took me to the sofa with an ease that always undoes me. She threw me onto the cushions, yanked off my pants and panties in one pull, and knelt on the floor between my spread legs. She looked at me for a second, with that half-smile I know so well, and lowered her mouth straight to my cunt.

Sofía’s tongue is something I never get tired of. She started slow, licking me from bottom to top, prying my lips open with her fingers, sucking my clit like it was candy. I grabbed her head with both hands and pushed her face against me. She laughed with her mouth pressed to my flesh and that made my whole body tremble. She slipped two fingers into me again, very deep, while she kept sucking my clit, and I felt the first orgasm coming fast, almost impossible to hold back.

—I’m going to come —I warned her—, I’m going to come in your mouth.

She didn’t stop; on the contrary, she pressed her lips harder against me and drove her tongue in. I came like that, with my legs wrapped around her head, crying out softly so the neighbors wouldn’t hear, and she swallowed everything without taking her fingers out, drawing the orgasm out of me to the last drop.

When she finally lifted her face, it was shiny. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and smiled.

—I’m not done with you yet —she said.

She went to the bedroom to get the harness. When she came back, she already had it on: the thick black silicone cock, the one that looks so good against the pale skin of her pelvis. My mouth watered just seeing it. I knelt on the edge of the sofa and motioned for her to come closer. I grabbed the cock with my hand and took it into my mouth without asking. I knew it drove her wild to see me suck it: she could feel the straps against her vulva, and watching me lick the tip and swallow it whole drove her crazy. I took her hips in both hands and worked it in deeper, my eyes locked on hers, letting my mouth fill with saliva and drip down my chin.

—Like that, like that —she panted, gripping my hair—. Suck it all, my love.

I sucked her for a good while, pulling it out to spit on it and take it back in again, until she yanked my hair and forced me to let go.

—Turn around —she ordered—. On all fours.

I turned around on the sofa, propped against the backrest, my ass lifted toward her and my legs apart. I felt her hand open my cunt lips and the tip of the cock rubbing against me, getting wet. Then she pushed, and drove it into me all the way to the hilt in one stroke. I cried out against the backrest.

—Goooood, Sofi, like that, don’t stop, don’t stop.

She started fucking me hard, her hands clenched on my hips, pulling me back each time she thrust forward. The sound of flesh hitting flesh filled the room. She grabbed my hair with one hand and pulled my head back so I’d arch my spine even more. She slapped my ass, leaving me burning.

—Do you like the way I fuck you? —she asked, panting—. Do you like it, slut?

—Yes, yes, yes —I repeated, unable to say anything else—. Harder.

She drove into me harder, faster, until my legs were shaking on their own. She slid her hand underneath and with two fingers started rubbing my clit to the same rhythm as her thrusts. It was too much. I came again, clenching down on her cock inside me, biting my arm so I wouldn’t scream. She kept fucking me through the orgasm, never slowing down, until she collapsed over my back and came too against me, moving her hips slowly, moaning in my ear.

We stayed like that for a few seconds, her still inside me, both of us panting, sticky and still.

Then Sofía stroked my face and asked if I was better.

—Yes —I admitted—. I was nervous.

—Why? Is something wrong?

I put a finger to her lips before she could go on.

—Nothing serious. I’m just being stupid. I love you.

She looked at me for a few seconds, as if weighing whether to believe me, and decided to let it go. We made dinner together, talked about nothing in particular, laughed. We went to bed wrapped around each other, her warm body pressed against my back, and that was how Monday ended.

***

Tuesday passed without incident. On Wednesday, Sofía messaged me at work to say she’d be going to see her sister Patricia in the afternoon. My suspicions grew a little more. When I got home, she was already back; she told me she’d stopped by to say hello and ask about a health issue. “All good,” she said. Nothing more.

I fell asleep earlier than usual, defeated by the anxiety that had been building for days.

***

Something woke me from sleep. A hand on my shoulder, a voice calling me from close by.

—Baby. Baby, wake up.

I opened my eyes halfway. Sofía was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed, with a smile she made no attempt to hide.

—Happy birthday, my love —she said, and held out a package wrapped in black paper.

I sat up, still drowsy, and opened it. It was a wine-colored slip dress with thin straps and a slit on the right leg. I put it on right there, without waiting. It fit me perfectly.

—I love it —I told her, and hugged her without letting go.

She took my hand and led me to the kitchen. The table was set for breakfast: coffee, toast, sliced fruit. Little things. The best things. We ate breakfast together, got changed, and went to work.

At the office I ordered medialunas to share with my coworkers and received birthday messages throughout the day. It was a good day, though incomplete: Sofía let me know she’d be leaving a little earlier than I would, with no further details. I let her go without asking.

***

I got home as evening fell. I left my bag on the chair in the entryway and started undressing on my way to the bedroom, gathering clothes from the floor. My mind was blank from exhaustion and I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular when I heard it.

A voice. A song. That song.

If I should stay… I would only be in your way…

My hands froze. Everything froze.

I turned slowly. Sofía was standing in the bedroom doorway, her eyes shining and an expression I had never seen before on her face. She came closer without saying a word. And when she reached me, she bent one knee and knelt on the floor, looking up at me.

My hands went straight to my mouth. The tears started before I could do anything to stop them.

Sofía was holding a little box between her fingers. Whitney was still singing in the background.

—Will you marry me? —she said. Just that.

I couldn’t answer right away. My throat was closed, my eyes were full of tears, and my heart was beating too fast. I collapsed to the floor in front of her, on my knees, and hugged her with everything I had.

—Yes —I managed to say—. Yes, I’d marry you a thousand times over.

We stayed like that, hugging on the bedroom floor, both of us crying, both of us laughing at ourselves because of it. Naked and kneeling, unable to stop.

—You surprised me again —I told her when I could speak—. Just like that time you told me you were in love with me.

She wiped away one tear with her thumb and another one slipped from her own eye.

—Does anyone else know? —I asked.

—No one.

—Come here —I said—. Lie on top of me.

We lay down on the floor, her on top of me, skin against skin. I told her that on Monday, when I went looking for her before dinner, I was insane with the mystery. That I sensed she was plotting something but couldn’t put the pieces together.

—I know —she said, laughing—. When I told you about the family gathering, you barely reacted, and I realized I’d ruined it. But I had to stick to the plan.

—Bad girl —I told her, and kissed her.

—But it was worth it.

—More than anything.

***

I asked her for something in a low voice, my face buried in her hair.

—From now on I want to be your wife. You’ll be whatever you want to be for me. You achieved what no one else ever dared to try before.

She held me tighter, saying nothing for a moment.

—I want to be your wife too —she said at last—. And one day I’m going to need us to switch roles. Can I ask you for that?

—Count on it —I replied.

We opened the little box together. Two simple matte silver rings. I turned them over, looking at the inside, and saw the engraving: one said “Sofía” and the other “Carmen.” I had to cover my face again. She chuckled, went to get tissues, and wiped my cheeks with a tenderness that still aches in my chest when I remember it.

—Why didn’t we meet sooner? —I asked her.

—I don’t know. But we’re here now, and nothing is going to separate us.

—Nothing —I repeated.

Sofía stood up, held out her hand, and pulled me to my feet in one swift motion.

—Let’s eat —she said—. I forgot to tell you: Patricia is expecting us for dinner.

I laughed to myself.

—You forgot? I’m a mess, look at my face.

She gave me an affectionate pat on the hip and gently pushed me toward the bathroom.

—You have fifteen minutes. You’re perfect.

While we got ready, I asked if we could tell her sister the news that night. “Absolutely,” she said. “She deserves it more than anyone.”

***

At Patricia’s place they welcomed us with hugs and birthday wishes. They gave me gifts: a cream-colored silk blouse and a little box that I imagined was full of chocolates, but it turned out to be a deep red lingerie set. I blushed and looked for Sofía; she played innocent amid barely contained laughter.

When we sat down to dinner, I asked for the floor.

—Thank you for the gifts and for welcoming us so warmly. I wanted to share something with you that, for me, is the best birthday present I’ve ever received: Sofía proposed to me this afternoon, and I said yes.

Patricia covered her mouth with both hands. Her eyes filled with tears almost before I finished the sentence. She got up from her chair and hugged her sister with such force that the table shook. Roberto, Patricia’s husband, shook my hand warmly and then hugged me. Daniela, who was sitting beside him, got emotional too and squeezed me tightly.

When Patricia pulled away from Sofía, both of them were crying. And seeing them, I started again.

—Let them kiss! —someone called from the other end of the table.

Sofía took me by the waist with one arm and put the other around my neck, tilted me slightly back, and kissed me slowly, without hurry, as if no one else were in the room. Applause. Laughter. More tears.

Dinner went on late into the night, with questions about the date, the place, the plans. We hadn’t decided anything yet, and that was the least important part. We went back to the apartment almost at midnight, with full stomachs and lighter chests than we’d had in weeks.

***

As we rode up in the elevator, Sofía reached for my hand.

—Happy? —she asked.

—Happier than happy —I told her—. I’m on a cloud.

We walked into the apartment. I left my bag in the entryway for the second time that day and turned toward her. I took off my blouse without taking my eyes off her, letting my breasts out inside the new red bra I’d just worn for the first time in Patricia’s bathroom. I unbuttoned my pants and lowered the zipper slowly, holding her gaze, moving my hips so the fabric would fall on its own. She came closer and kissed me at the corner of the mouth, barely brushing it.

—Do you know what I want now? —I asked her.

—I already know —she said—. Me too.

I took her to the bedroom by the hand, we dropped our clothes wherever they landed, and climbed into bed. This time there was no urgency, no accumulated nerves. I laid her on her back and climbed on top of her, straddling her, and stayed like that for a while, looking at her, running my hands over her breasts, her belly, her hips. I leaned down and kissed her mouth, long and deep, tongues, mingled breath. Then I went lower.

I licked her neck, her collarbone, and took my time with her breasts. I sucked one nipple while pinching the other between two fingers, and she arched her back against the mattress. I nipped it lightly, barely, and moved my mouth down her belly, leaving a trail of saliva to her pubis. I parted her legs with my hands and settled myself between them.

Sofía’s cunt is a beautiful thing, and that night it was already shining, before I’d even touched it. I licked her from bottom to top, long and slow, with my tongue flat. She moaned my name. I licked her again, and again, unhurried, playing with her lips, pushing my tongue inside her, sucking her clit with closed lips, letting it go, going back. I gripped her thighs with my open hands and held her against my mouth. She squeezed the back of my neck with her fingers and started moving her hips slowly against my face.

—Like that, my love —she panted—, like that, don’t move.

I slipped in one finger, then two, while still sucking her clit. I felt the walls tighten around my fingers, felt her trembling all over. My tongue got faster, my fingers too, and she came against my mouth with a long moan, gripping my hair, arching her back so hard she lifted off the mattress.

When she came down, still shaking, I climbed up to kiss her and made her taste herself in my mouth. She pushed me down and climbed on top. We embraced in a new way: she spread my legs with hers, pressed her cunt to mine, and started moving. Skin against skin, wet against wet, nothing between us, rubbing slowly at first and then faster. I grabbed her ass with both hands and pulled her against me. Her clit against mine, pushing each other. I looked into her eyes the whole time. She never stopped looking at me.

—I love you —she told me, moving—. I love you, I love you, I love you.

—Me too —I answered, barely.

We came like that, tight and wet, almost at the same time, each other’s name on our lips. She collapsed over me, sweaty, warm, and we stayed wrapped around each other, saying nothing for a long while.

Outside, the city kept going about its business.

Inside, in that bed, the world was exactly the size we needed it to be.