The Rabbit-Like Intimacy of Our Lives

The truth is, we are like two rabbits, just like we used to be before. We have sex in the shower before going to work, in the kitchen after doing the dinner dishes, and before going to sleep.



We even have sex during our lunch break, just like now when I'm eagerly pleasuring my husband under his work desk while his phone rings and is ignored by Carlos, who is holding my hair, savoring the sight.



"I think you should answer it," I say, using my hands to please him. "It might be important."



"Nothing... is... more important... than... you..." Carlos says with difficulty. "The phone will stop..."



He lifts me onto the table, tossing his papers on the floor, and then slips between my legs, thrusting forcefully. He opens my blouse, sucking on my breasts afterward. Then the phone rings again:



"You... need... to... answer," I say, with my voice breaking as I hold onto my husband's back.



"Answer," Carlos whispers in my ear.



"What?" I whisper, feeling his lips gliding across my neck.



He turns me around on the table, takes the phone off the hook, and then hands it to me. I put it to my ear, and Carlos starts thrusting even harder, making it nearly impossible for me to talk on the phone:



"Hello..." I manage to say while Carlos pulls my hair. "Carlos Salazar's office..."



"Good afternoon, Cristina, how are you?" the man on the other end of the line assumes I'm my husband's secretary, who is probably calmly having lunch somewhere right now.



"It's... not... Cristina," I say, trying to put my hand behind me to touch my husband's chest and get him to stop just for a moment. "It's... the... wife..."



"Dália, how are you?" the man asks. "This is Rubens, head of the acquisitions and mergers department..."



"Hi... Rubens..." I say with great difficulty. But when I mention Rubens' name, my husband stops automatically. "Just a minute, I'll pass the phone to Carlos."



"Hi, Rubens, how are you?" my husband asks, moving away from me. His expression becomes serious, but he keeps his voice unchanged as if he wasn't having sex with me a few moments ago. "Yes... Of course... I understand... I know, yes... Well, I'm on my lunch break, but I can come there. Just give me about..." My husband looks me up and down, and I nod with a laugh. "I need about twenty minutes. Okay, it's important... then ten minutes. We'll talk in ten minutes." Carlos hangs up the phone and watches me as I adjust my clothes. "What are you doing?"



"I'm leaving. Apparently, you have a meeting in ten minutes, and I don't want to bother you," I reply, passing by him, and he grabs my arm. "What's wrong?"



"Love, have you ever heard of a quickie?" my husband asks, not even waiting for an answer, and bends me over the table.

***

During the day, Carlos informed me that he couldn't pick up Juan; apparently, the meeting with Rubens wasn't as straightforward as my husband thought. After work, I picked up our son, who is getting smarter every day. At the daycare, he learned several new words and even started combining some of them.



"Sister," Juan says as I settle him into his high chair. He pulls my blouse near my belly and continues talking and laughing, "Sister."



"I'm Mommy," I say, kissing him. "Now say 'daddy'..."



"Sister," Juan repeats, looking at me as if challenging me.



"Okay, little boy, I'll let you win this one. But you'll have to say 'daddy' at some point."



I take my seat and start driving towards our house. Once we arrive, I take Juan straight to the bath and then leave him playing in the living room while I prepare dinner. Carlos arrived, and I handed him a glass of white wine. I found him already sitting on the sofa, loosening his tie, and observing Juan, who is attempting to do somersaults.



"Hello, love," I say, handing him the glass.



"Hello," Carlos responds, giving me a thankful kiss.



"So, how was it with Rubens?" I ask, looking at Juan, who is now with his bottom up and head between his legs, observing us.



"It was... interesting," my husband says, resting his head on one hand as he settles more comfortably on the sofa. "Today's meeting was about Portugal."



"Portugal?" I repeat, narrowing my eyes, already imagining what will come next.



"Yes, they want to send someone there because apparently, the person in charge isn't managing everything," Carlos replies, taking a sip of wine.



I can tell his words are carefully chosen, avoiding mentioning the name of the person in charge—the name that is now part of our postnuptial agreement. We haven't touched on this subject again, but it was to be expected that it would come up one day. I take a deep breath and then take the wine glass from my husband's hand and take a sip.



"Duny," I say, looking at him. "The robot woman isn't cutting it, and they want you there with her, is that it?"



"No... Rubens asked me if I could go, and I was very honest, telling him that it wouldn't be possible," Carlos says, taking another sip of wine.



I can sense that his words were chosen carefully, avoiding touching on the name of the person responsible. The name is now part of our post-nuptial agreement. We haven't talked about this topic since then, but it was to be expected that it would come up eventually. I take a deep breath and then take the wine glass from my husband's hand and take a sip.



"Duny," I say, looking at him. "The robot woman isn't cutting it, and they want you there with her, is that it?"



"No... Rubens asked me if I could go, and I was very honest, telling him that it wouldn't be possible. He said he needed to find someone who could relocate there. We spent the afternoon analyzing profiles, and I believe Bernard would be ideal."



"Bernard? The one who bought the apartment with me?" I asked, surprised.



"Yes, that's him," my husband confirms, taking a deep breath and taking the glass from my hands. "They just bought a house... they're still settling in."



"I feel sorry for them. I know what Portugal did to us, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone," I begin to say, feeling empathy for them.



"Dália, either he goes... or it'll be me," my husband says, holding my hand.



"Until when do you have to convince them?"



"I have the next two or three months, I'm not sure," Carlos says, watching Juan get up and approach us, all cheerful.



"We can invite them to Juan's birthday, and Rubens too. I believe that when they see our family, they'll realize you can't go to another country," I explain, holding Juan in my hands.



"I hope it works," Carlos says.



"Sister," Juan says, laughing and pointing at me.



"Not sister," Carlos corrects, "This is Mommy."



"Sister!" Juan repeats, laughing.



"Let it be, Carlos. Juan probably heard Valeria calling me that and now he's mimicking. You know, when my parents were teaching Valeria to speak, they called themselves 'mommy' and 'daddy.' What do you think about starting to call each other that?"



"Okay," Carlos accepts, looking at me. He holds my chin and then releases it, whispering, "Mommy..."



"You're terrible," I comment, laughing. I get up from the sofa with Juan in my arms. "Come on, let's eat, Daddy."



"Hmm... I like it when you call me daddy," Carlos comments, getting up. "Say it again..."



"Daddy..." I say, walking toward the dining room. "Daddy... Daddy... Daddy..."



"Daddy!!! Daddy!!! Oh, Daddy!!!" I moan while riding on top of my husband, hours after dinner.



Carlos holds me, thrusting his body against mine, moaning with desire.



"Yes, Mommy. Ride on Daddy," he says.



In a matter of minutes, he climaxes, and we lay on our bed, ecstatic.