One night in four voices

One night in four voices

Elena and Marco had been sharing the same floor in Chamberí neighborhood for three years. On Sundays they used to stay in the kitchen drinking wine from a bottle that always took too long to finish. That night, the bottle stayed at the center of the table, between the remains of a chocolate cake and a notebook that Marco had opened. It was the third time they had talked about the subject, but they had never passed the theoretical conversation.

"I want to be clear," said Marco, pencil in hand. "If at any point one of you says the word "lamp," everything stops. No questions, no explanations.

Elena nodded. “She had her hair gathered in a low bow and wore her big sleeping shirt.

"I want you to be in the next room," she added. "You listen, you listen to me. If you hear me say your name quietly, you come in. Only if I say so.

Marco wrote “lamp” and “name” in the notebook. Then they looked up at each other at the same time. They looked at each other and smiled like two accomplices who had just signed a secret reading contract.

The following Saturday, Isabel and Diego arrived on time. They had coincided with Elena and Marco at a dinner of friends months ago. After the coats were hung and the first toast served, Elena proposed going up to the hall instead of staying in the hall.

"Before we start," Diego said, already sitting on the edge of the sofa, "I would like to know if there is anything that neither of the four wants to happen.

Elizabeth raised her hand like the one who asks for the word in class.

"I don't like being covered in my mouth," he said. "I prefer to hear all the words.

Marco nodded.

"We prefer that there be no kisses in the mouth between crossed partners," he replied. "Only between the two of us at the end.

Isabel smiled with complicity.

"Perfect." So, shall we begin?

Elena rose up and turned off the main light. She left alone the flex of the corner, a low light that dyed the amber face of the four. Diego approached her without haste. He asked her if she could unbutton the first button of her blouse. She answered her yes with a quiet voice and, to the second button, added that yes, she would continue. Marco sat on the ear chair, next to Isabel. She took her hand and placed it on her own knee, guiding the contact.

At first, there were only caresses. Diego kissed Elena’s clavicle; she sighed and looked back at Marco, seeking mute permission. He bowed forward and responded with an almost imperceptible gesture: he goes on. Isabel, meanwhile, had started unbuttoning Marco’s shirt, slowly, letting the fresh air of the room rub her skin. No one rushed.

Diego murmured that the next room was ready if they wanted more privacy. Elena nodded. Before crossing the threshold, she looked at Marco and said his name once, quietly. Marco got up. Isabel grabbed him from the elbow and smiled.

"Go with her," he said. "I am waiting for you here."

The guest room had a narrow bed and a navy blue quilt that reflected the light of the street. Diego closed the door without fitting at all. Elena leaned against the edge of the mattress and stood still, letting Diego zip her skirt down. When she was in her underwear, she asked her again if she could continue. She replied yes, that she liked how she asked for things.

Marco opened the door just to listen. He stood at the threshold, without going in at all. From the hall came the voice of Isabel, who hummed an ancient song to herself. The mixture of that distant melody and Elena’s close sounds accelerated her breath. Elena realized that he was there. He reached out and looked for Marco’s hand without looking at it. He pressed it once, signaling that everything was fine.

Diego helped her lie down. She invited her to undress. He obeyed slowly, bending every garment before leaving her in the chair. When she returned to bed, Elena asked her to lie down at her side first, to speak for a moment. Diego accepted. She told her that she liked to be guided, to be told exactly what to do. Elena smiled and whispered to her to kiss her inside the wrist. He did. She then asked her to go down further, to follow her pulse to the elbow. Each instruction was also a way to invite Marco to stay.

Marco decided to enter. He sat on the floor, leaning his back against the wall, without interfering. From there he saw Elena’s legs, the way Diego rubbed them with his lips. Elena raised her head and looked for Marco’s look. He said, clearly:

"Now I want you to go in, Diego, but slowly. Marco, stay looking at me.

Diego waited for confirmation of her before she was placed. Elena led him with her hand, adjusting the rhythm. At each attack her eyes were looking for Marco, who responded with deeper breaths. When she noticed that her pleasure was growing, she spoke again.

"Marco, come here. I want your hand in mine.

Marco got up and approached her. He intertwined his fingers with hers while Diego kept moving. The feeling of the two presences, one inside and one next, took her to the edge. He asked them to stop for a second. Both men obeyed instantly. She breathed deep, smiled and said she wanted to change her posture. She stood on four legs, looking toward the head. Marco knelt down in front of her, close enough that she could support her forehead on her thigh. Diego waited for the signal. She gave it to him with her voice:

• Now, please.

The rhythm became more urgent. Elena felt Marco’s hand on her neck, not to hold her, but to remind her that she was present. Orgasm came with a mixture of groaning and soft laughter. Diego retired when she asked her to. She lay beside her, without touching her until Elena sought her hand and narrowed it.

"Thank you," she said. "It was exactly what I wanted.

Marco offered her a wet towel that she had prepared before. Elena thanked her with a kiss on her cheek. The three remained silent for a few minutes, catching their breath. Then Elena joined in and looked at the door ajar.

"Isabel," he called with a kind voice. "Would you like to come?"

Elizabeth came in barefoot, carrying two glasses of water. She sat on the edge of the bed and gave one to Elena.

"All right?" he asked.

"All perfect," said Marco. "Now we would like you and I to have our moment, if you would like.

Isabel looked at Diego, who nodded. Then she looked at Elena, who smiled.

"See you in the living room in a little while," said Elizabeth, and took Marco by the hand.

Diego and Elena were left alone. He asked him if he needed anything else. She asked him to hug her for a few minutes. Diego fulfilled. The blue quilt crept under their bodies. Elena closed her eyes and let the heat of the other one wrap her. Then, Diego got up to pick up the messy clothes. Elena thanked him again. He returned the garment she had thrown to the ground and waited for her to be ready to go down.

In the living room, Isabel and Marco were sitting on the same sofa, a little rough, laughing at something Isabel had just told. Elena and Diego approached. Marco looked up and reached out to Elena. She grabbed her and sat next to her. For a few minutes they talked about nonsense: the movie that no one had finished watching, the next holiday bridge, the wine that was left in the kitchen. The atmosphere was light, as if they had shared an afternoon of table games instead of a couple exchange.

When Isabel and Diego said goodbye, about midnight, Marco and Elena stayed at the threshold of the door until the elevator closed. Then they returned to the living room. Marco turned off the flexo. They lay on the sofa, she with her head resting on his chest.

"Something you want to tell me?" asked Marco.

Elena thought for a moment.

"I was glad to see you there," he replied. "I was glad to know that you could come in and out when I asked you to."

Marco kissed his crown.

"I liked to hear you say my name," he said. "I liked to know that you were in control even though I wasn't touching you.

Elena went up a little more and kissed him on the lips. The kiss was long and quiet. Later, Marco went to the kitchen and came back with two glasses of water and the blanket of the back. He spread it over the two of them. They stayed that way, speaking short, until the sleep began to close their eyelids. Before falling asleep at all, Elena murmured the word they had agreed to at first, just to check that it was still working.

"Lampara," he said.

Marco smiled in the dark.

"Listened," he replied. "Do you want me to stop something?"

"No," she whispered. "I just wanted to hear what it sounds like when it's no longer necessary.

Marco squeezed his hand under the blanket. Elena sighed, satisfied, and let herself be carried away by the dream. Outside, Madrid was still with her lights on, foreign to the fact that four adults had spent a night talking, listening and caring for each other. Inside the floor, there were only two accompanying breaths and the tacit promise that, if they ever opened the notebook again, the rules would remain the same: to talk before, to stop when it was necessary and, above all, to always return to each other.