24. September 17th
Rafael
When we get home, she pulls into the single car garage and kills the engine. But as soon as she shuts her car door, I’m on her, pushing her into the side and caging her in. “Hey,” I rumble.
“Really? Right now?”
“Do you have any idea how turned on I was watching you negotiate?” I hum against her warm neck, her peachy perfume still lingering behind her ear after all that’s happened today.
“That got you going?” She may be questioning me, but her hands are sliding up to my chest and she tilts her head, offering me better access.
“Mhmm. Would you like for me to be your good boy?” I need to remember she calls the shots here. Ever since our sleepover at my moms’, I’ve been too reckless with the rules. But how can I not? I think about her constantly. I fantasize about her. I fantasize about what astonishing scenes she wants to try and somehow, she still surprises me. Now that I’ve seen this wild, lusty side of her, what we do together is anything but transactional. This isn’t me simply taking care of her needs—this is me desiring her and needing to please her. It doesn’t fucking matter if it’s through domination or submission because every little touch from her is like a craving being fulfilled.
A breathy whimper escapes her, “Yes.”
“You wanna christen the car?”
“Fuck yes.”
“Let me make room,” I huff and then quickly open the back door to fold the backseats down. Angie takes the opportunity to close the garage door so our neighbors don’t get a full view of us going at it. After opening the hatchback and laying the back seats down, I guide her inside. She lays back against the floor and I take her mouth with mine before she can even rest her head back.
Fuck. Every time I get to kiss these plush lips I’m transported to a better place. A place of soft, ooey-gooey sweetness and magic. A place I didn’t know existed until her.
“You were incredible today,” I murmur against her full lips and her legs spread even wider for me to settle into, her dress hiking up to her waist. Her stomach is getting larger by the day, but there’s still plenty of room for us like this. “The way you took charge and got exactly what you wanted,” I groan and grind my dick against her. “So sexy.”
“And you think I get turned on by strange stuff,” she mocks.
“It made me want to get on my knees for you right there in the showroom.”
Her hips begin to match my grinding. “Oh yeah? You would have looked so pretty like that. Showing everyone who fucking owns you.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I moan, crumbling at her words and every shred of dignity and control evaporating from my being—desperation taking its place as I lick down the column of her neck. “Am I your baby?”
I feel her swallow thickly against the light suction I’m applying. “Yes,” she sighs, her hands making their way into my hair and massaging. “Yes,” she repeats, and her body relaxes more before treating my ears to her melodic praise. “Baby, that feels so good.”
“Can I lick your pussy, Ma’am? Please.”
“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” I can practically hear her smirk.
“Thank you,” I say eagerly, kissing and kneading my way down her heaving body, stopping to pay attention to her baby bump. With both hands, I press gently against it and close my eyes before silently adding another thank you.
My hands glide down her hips and I slip her sheer pink panties off and pocket them. There isn’t enough room for me to sit back on my knees and watch her the way I want to, but there is enough room with the hatch open to plant one foot on the garage floor and the other knee bent up to hold myself in place before her, marveling as I push her stretchy cotton dress up and over her stomach.
This. View.
Fuck.
My cock is leaking precum as I stare at my best friend—her round middle and glistening pussy causing me to lose every logical thought I possess. “Eres bella.”
“So is your mouth. Use it.”
My stomach drops and the pool of arousal in my groin deepens.
Damn, Angie.
Before I can get a taste, the warm, earthy smell of her cunt washes over my senses, heightening my need for her. I gently lick a stripe through her slit, collecting and following her wetness as it leads me home. I tease her clit with a hardened, fluttering tongue and once again, her fingers slice through my hair and clutch in, the sound of her heavy breathing stirring my own desire.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it,” she gasps. “Oh my god, I’m almost there,” she says like she can’t believe it herself. But getting her off as fast as possible and as many times as I can manage has been my own personal goal. Sure, sometimes I like to tease her and build her up until she’s reduced to nothing more than a whining, whimpering sub begging for relief. But most of the time, I want her to light up in ecstasy until she’s whining and whimpering for me to stop.
I thrust two fingers inside her and curl them across that rough patch. “Please come on my face, Ma’am. Ungh, use me.”
“Fuck,” she chokes out, pulling hair until I feel the sting lance through my scalp and down my neck. Her whole body clenches, everything from her shoulders to cunt to her feet constrict, trying its best to keep me right where I am.
Far be it from me to deny her body what it wants.
My hand fucks her through her orgasm and I suck her clit harder, growling into her spasming flesh until she’s crying from overstimulation several minutes later.
“I can’t take any more,” she exclaims, pushing my head away from her warm center as a trail of saliva forms a bowed line between us. Her hooded eyes and gaping mouth stare at me. “That… You’re… You’re a very good boy.”
Her words comfort and reward me. “Gracias.”
But when she sits up abruptly and takes my belt in both hands, I think she’s about to rip my pants off so that I can bury myself inside her. Instead, she whips my throbbing erection out and proceeds to push me down to where she was just laying, and quickly swallows the head of my cock.
“Oh fuck,” I whisper out of shock. “You don’t have to do this, Ang.” In all our time fooling around with each other, I’ve been hesitant to let her go down on me. It feels too mutual for what we’re doing. But when her velvety wet tongue slides down my shaft, her face softens, her eyes close, and she fucking purrs.
Dios Mio, que rico se siente. Mi angelita con esos labios tan pecadores / Oh my god, it feels so good. My little angel with those sinful lips.
Her slick hand slowly jerks me as she takes her mouth off just long enough to say, “I want to, baby. I want this so bad. Give me this.”
The last thread of my resolve gives a valiant if not pathetic sounding reply. “Do you… Don’t you want me inside you?”
Her mouth pops off my cockhead, but she nuzzles her face against my shaft like it’s a jade face roller and it’s going to cure all her skincare needs. “I want this more,” she pants, then her seductive gaze shoots to mine. “Tell me you want this too, Raf.”
Raf.
Me.
She could have said slut—my subby name I love but has a clear distinction of what roles we play. She could have said baby—the name that makes me soar with giddy pleasure but leaves me a little confused still. Maybe that’s because we only say it in the heat of the moment. When she says it, the door to my vulnerability blows open, and it’s precisely because of that exposure that I submit and fall into her.
But Raf. I’m always Raf to her. That’s who she knows outside the bedroom, the car, the games. That is who she trusts. That is who dances with her. That is who will raise children with her.
Maybe I’m thinking too much. Maybe I’m reading into nothing and I should simply erase my intrusive thoughts and mindlessly give in to the hedonistic pleasure she’s eager to give me.
“I want it,” I whisper, deciding to think about this later because the idea of stopping her right now is a crime.
Angie’s mouth envelopes me once again and her tight right fist strokes down to the base and back up to meet her lips. She slides her other fingers through the dripping saliva, and then presses her fingertips against my taint, slowly stroking me and causing me to moan louder than I expect.
She pops off my cock for a second—only an inch or two away—to marvel at me while still stroking my shaft and kneading behind my balls. “Look at you, taking my mouth like a good boy.”
Oh shit.I’ve never heard someone phrase it like that and it sets me off even more. Me voy a morir / I’m going to die.
Once again pushing her tight mouth around my length, she slides herself down and takes as much as she can fit. This might be the sloppiest blowjob I’ve ever had, which is to say the best. It’s so precise, but wet, nasty, and erotic at the same time. Her left hand searches up from my taint to my tightening sac and she plays with my balls, all while moaning around my cock.
“Goddammit, Ang. I mean Ma’am,” I correct. She doesn’t lift off but I can feel her smile. I want to praise her, but that’s not what this is. “Thank you so much, Ma’am. Thank you. Thank you,” I chant. I don’t know how many more times I thank her because my brain is gone, replaced by my impending climax curling into a tight pressurized bundle in my stomach.
“I’m going to come,” I grit. “Where do you want it?” Her stunning blue eyes fixate on mine and it’s a death glare if I ever saw one. Hoping I’m reading the right message she’s sending, I ask, “You want me to come in your mouth?” She nods like of course I do and if youdon’t, I’ll murder you. “You got it,” I breathe. “Fuck. Yes, yes…” I moan through my release as it shoots out and paints the inside of her luscious pink mouth.
Her eyes roll back and her throat works as she drinks me down. She waits a long, drawn-out moment before she slowly and torturously takes one last suck, then pulls off. Her playful tongue gives my cock one last lick as I lay here in blissful disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Ang. That was the best blowjob of my life.”
“That’s high praise,” she smirks.
“Come here,” I growl and force her to fall next to me so I can kiss the living daylights out of her, my thoughts on what we should and should not do be damned.
“Let’s go inside,” Angie says, melting into my touch. “I’m not done with you yet.”
A little while later I’m laying naked as the day I was born, fresh from a quick shower and on Angie’s soft pink and white duvet. “When did you get that?” I ask in surprise, as my soft cock stiffens again watching her take out and step into a beautiful purple strap-on.
She tightens the jock-like harness snugly against her hips. “A little while ago. Cora sent it to me.”
That part has me raising an eyebrow. “Is there anything off limits between you two? Is there no room for mystery?”
“Why would we do that? That’s no fun. Besides, she swears by this,” Angie gestures at her hips and gives a test thrust, letting the lengthy dildo swish around. “And I’ve always been curious,” she says with a roguish grin.
Throwing my hands behind my head on the pillow, I settle back and admire the view of my best friend in nothing but a sheer pink bra and a fitted strap standing before me, excitement bursting from her face. “It won’t be my first time getting bent over and fucked, but it will be getting pegged.”
Crawling onto the bed, Angie straddles my lap and lets the strap rest on my stomach. “When was the last time you had something inside you?” she asks carefully.
“It’s been a while. Maybe six months.”
Her fingertips ghost over my abdomen and chest before she asks, “You never played with yourself since then?”
“I don’t know if you know this, Angie, but you’ve been occupying all my free time and siphoning every ounce of sexual energy I’m capable of. I haven’t felt the need to do that in a long time.”
“Is that something you miss? Being penetrated?” she asks with a softness in her eyes.
“Not until this very moment, watching you parade around here with this thing.”
“Yeah? You wanna take my cock, Raf?” she says in a sing-song tone.
My hands fly to her hips and my fingers slide between her skin and the thick black straps; all traces of my smile are gone. “Yes, I do.”
“You want this soft, pregnant woman to fuck your little hole like the slut you are?”
“Stop teasing me, Ma’am,” I say as defiantly as I’m willing to get. She leans over to grab the lube she’s already placed on the edge of the bed and I take the opportunity to caress her large ass as she brushes her belly against mine.
“Getting handsy I see,” she admonishes, but the smile she tries to hide betrays her dominance.
“You’re worth getting in trouble for,” I quip.
“If you keep doing as you please, you’re going to find yourself with a red backside and a cock in your ass.”
Throwing her off me, I quickly flip over, press my forearms into the bed and arch my back with my ass on full glorious display. “Oh no,” I whine, my butt swaying side to side. “I would hate that.”
Angie dissolves into a puddle of laughter forcing me to follow suit. “Stop,” she musters out. “I can’t be a good Domme if you make me laugh like this.”
“Are comedic brats a thing?” I chuckle.
“I’m not sure,” she says, trying to catch her breath. “I’ve never read about them.”
“Time to create some original content. Save it for your spank bank.”
She finally sits up to kneel behind me, smoothing her hands over my ass, and then dragging her nails against my skin. “Oh, I’ll be depositing spankings alright. What’s your safeword, Raf?”
“Kenny Rogers,” I answer, quirking an eyebrow. “Are you—fuck,” I hiss after her hand makes abrupt contact with my right cheek, and my smile packs its bags as the sting sinks in and the heat rises.
“Wow,” she says calmly. “That deposit was pretty easy. I think I’ll make some more,” and she smacks me again. Her slaps have me clenching my whole body in pain and anticipation. “This is by far the dumbest tattoo you have,” she says affectionately while taking a break to graze her fingers over the word butt inked on my right cheek. “I think the funniest part is that the font is comic sans.”
I got it after scoring my first try freshman year. Most teams make their rookies run a naked zulu lap after scoring their first try on a team, but not Penn Valley University Men”s Rugby Team. Oh no. They make you get a tattoo of the veterans’ choosing, inked right there at the social immediately following the game. I could have opted out and run a naked lap, but I thought this sounded more interesting.
It was my first tattoo and I remember Angie dying with laughter when I showed her. Soon after that, the tattoos came more frequently. The team crest on my thigh, Prison Mike from The Office on my inner bicep—that was quickly surrounded by the Japanese waves cascading down my upper arm when I studied abroad there for a semester sophomore year.
But none of my tattoos mean as much as the letter J inked over my heart. The same one Angie has slightly below her left collar bone in a more delicate font. It was our gift to each other when we graduated from undergrad—a testament to our friendship both for the past and the future.
Johanssen and Jimenez. We were always meant to stay together.
Were we always meant to become this? A couple of friends playing with Dom/sub dynamics and wild fantasies? Having children together? Being so intertwined into each other’s lives that removal would be unfathomable?
Did I ever think my pretty best friend would see me as this? No. I was perfectly happy being a bachelor. But here I am, laying naked in front of her, wishing for her to spank me, praise me, degrade me, put me in a hog-tie and attach a vibrator to my balls, not because of the arrangement we struck, but because I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else—with anyone else.
The thought of going back to what I was before getting Angie pregnant has lost all its appeal. Maybe that’s because I can’t see myself leaving for a hookup while being a new father. Maybe it’s because the feeling I get from those hookups is no more exciting than dragging a lit sparkler through dusk. When I’m with Angie, it”s like a grand finale of fireworks.
Out of nowhere, my father’s voice rings like it always has. Women will only ruin your life, mijo. Never get close.
And for the first time since he told me that when I was fourteen, I question it. It’s the smallest of irritations, like a tiny pebble stuck in my shoe, just bothersome enough that I could easily ignore it for another time, perhaps when Angie isn’t about to push a purple dildo inside me.
“Are you ready, baby?” she asks in a sultry tone as the kiss of a slick phallus grazes against my back entrance.
Yeah, now’s not the time for this mental unpacking.
Angie
“Yes,” he sighs. For a moment there I was concerned he wanted to stop. He seemed like he was lost in thought.
“I’ll go slow,” I coo. I’ve already applied the lube directly to him and my strap, but I take the time to insert one then two fingers, scissoring his tight hole until it gives way for a third. Rafael doesn’t need any instruction from me to relax—he definitely knows what to do. I’ve never experienced this side of things, but watching him breathe deep and moan as I gently massage him open is beyond my wildest fantasies. I’m in awe. “You’re doing so good, Raf.”
“I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Please,” he whines and spreads his long, toned legs even further apart to line up with me.
Grabbing my fake shaft, I can only see the end of it past my stomach, but I press the tip against his hole again, this time pushing in ever so slightly. “Oh shit,” he whispers, and his right hand fists the pillow. “Yes. Don’t stop.” I’m not, but I’m still taking my time entering him at a glacial pace. When I’m mostly in, his entire body relaxes. I’m having a hard time playing Domme right now because I’m mesmerized by what’s happening before me.
I intend to use the little remote to turn on a vibration setting, but I didn’t expect to actually feel something while wearing this. It’s not stimulating my clit, but there’s this phantom feeling when I drag out and push in. Maybe it’s all in my head; but it’s the way the hip straps bite at my flesh when I’m pulling out of him and the way his hot skin kisses my thighs when they meet—it’s so damn beautiful and real.
“Oh my god,” I whisper. “I feel so…fucking powerful like this.” I start to thrust in earnest, and Rafael”s moans are his only reply. “Talk to me, baby. Where are you?”
“I’m so…so good,” he says, followed by a string of mumbled expletives.
“You like taking my cock, you little slut?” I bite out.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“That’s right,” I say, running my hands on the side of his ass to his narrow hips and holding tight, using his body as leverage to pump harder and faster.
A round of applause to tops, though, because this is a lot harder than it looks. I get winded so easily these days. This is taking a lot of strength.
Grabbing the little black remote next to my knee, I press the button and quickly find the right vibration setting.
Why sex toy manufacturers give us more than two options is beyond me. Low and high. That’s it. I don’t need Morse code to get me off.
I’m pleasantly surprised at the amount of sensation against the outside of my pussy—and Raf is too. He gasps, “Sí sí sí. Unghh.”
“Touch yourself. Stroke that pathetic little cock you have.” He obeys and shoves a hand between his legs. A tendril of perverse thrill rushes through me after degrading him like that.
“You’re so good to me, Ma’am. Thank you.”
I grind my hips against him to capture more pressure and rub the harness material into my clit. “Shit,” I hiss. “That’s so good, baby.” I’m vaguely aware that I might be getting fast and loose with the baby’s but I can’t care when he’s grinding against me too.
Out of nowhere, Raf slips away, gets to his knees and pushes me down on the bed. “That’s enough,” he growls and his eyes are like burning pools of desire. He looks feral as he spreads my legs open and moves the thin harness strap away from my pussy. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
Apparently I’m not a very good Domme because I fold instantly, slipping into submission effortlessly. I barely squeak out a yes,Sir before he’s thrusting inside of me in one powerful stroke and I’m gasping for air.
“Ay dios mío. Mierda. Estás bienmojada, ángel / Oh my god. Shit. You’re so wet, Angel.”
He sounds so sexy when he speaks in Spanish. “Sí. Siga hablando en espa?ol, por favor / Yes. Keep speaking in Spanish, please,” I whine.
His large hands glide into the crevice between my hips and thighs, squeezing me and pulling me into him. “Este co?o es perfecto. Eres tan hermosa así. / Your cunt is perfect. You’re so beautiful like this.”
As Rafael pumps into me I find pleasure not only in what he’s doing to me, but what he’s giving. His handsome face contorts like it pains him to have this much pleasure.
This, though. This power exchange. This switching of roles and the push and pull we have with each other—it makes so much sense for us. We are a million things, him and I. We don’t fit in any one category or genre. Our interests are vast and our curiosities insatiable.
He adds a thumb to my clit and I buck into his touch, chasing my orgasm like a moth to flame. “Oh Se?or, sí. Más. ?Me voy a correr! Mierda. ?Sí! / Oh Sir, yes. More. I’m going to come! Fuck. Yes!” I whimper, and clench around him, arching my back and digging my hands into my tender breasts. But he doesn’t stop, doesn’t relent. He fucks me harder, making my orgasm span out and I’m free falling with no end in sight.
“Eso es mi ángel, úsame para tu placer. Quiero que te sigas viniendo en mi verga. Quiero que siempre estés llena de mi esencia. Dime que tu lo quieres también. / That’s it my angel, use me to please yourself. I want you to keep coming on my cock. I want you to always be full of my essence. Tell me you want it too.”
“Sí,” I whimper.
Suddenly he leans over, arching over my bump and takes my mouth in a frenzied kiss. His arm braces on one side of my head and his other hand clasps behind my neck. He bites my lips like they’re the only thing anchoring him to this world.
“I have something for you,” he whispers. Before I can form the words to ask what it is, he’s pulling something out from under his pillow. His face lifts from mine just enough for me to turn and see him holding a blue and red water gun.
“No,” I bellow in laughter as my orgasm finally dips.
“Yes,” he replies, eyes wide and grin wider. “You asked for it and this is what I’m comfortable with.”
“Oh my god. I applaud the commitment. Let’s fucking do it.”
“What’s the scene, Angel?”
Plucking the fantasy from my mental bookshelf, I say, “Your father is the city’s crime boss and you’re his heir. I’m just a girl in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed too much. You’ve been sent to kidnap and torture me to get information. But I’m tougher than I look! You’re beguiled by my beauty and brains, so you try to seduce-torture me with your cock and your glock.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Ang.”
“It’s hot, I know.”
He starts to peel off my strap. “Maybe someday I could be a kraken crime boss.”
I go silent as the wheels turn in my brain. “That’s not a bad idea.”
Tossing my lady cock and harness to the side, he then trails the tip of the gun against my inner thigh. “The bad idea,” his voice dropping, caressing my ears like velvet. “is me leaving here without any answers.” The gun then taps at my wet center and my entire lower half tightens in fear. He throws my hands above my head and pins them down with one of his. Faster than I thought possible, I immerse myself into the scene. “So you can either tell me what you saw by the docks, or we can play Russian roulette with your cunt,” he growls.
He. Growls.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, and then dry swallow. “I told you; I didn’t see anything.”
“You’re fucking lying, and you’re lying to yourself that I don’t turn you on. You think you’re so innocent, but you”re a thief. You have information that doesn’t belong to you.” The gun thrusts inside me and the foreign object is every bit as intrusive, bizarre, and hot as I dreamed it.
My whimpers are lost under his commanding voice again when he says, “I’ll give you one minute after each pulled trigger to try and get off.” He pulls the gun out of my pussy and replaces it with his own thick length, then presses the gun firmly against my clit, making me shiver. He smirks. “You’ll have up to six minutes or no time at all.” Then he pulls back the trigger and a shot of cool water scares the living spirit out of me.
My chest frantically shakes as I try to catch my breath. Shit. I did not think I’d be this frightened, but my raging lady boner is hard as a rock, and I’m not talking about the purple dildo sitting next to me.
“Do you understand me, little thief?” he bites out, then throws his hips against me with the gun rocking against my clit.
“Yes!”
He’s caging me in, forcing me to submit like a captive as I let the fear amp up my arousal. The gun’s ridges and unforgiving material bite against my sensitive flesh. Panic sets in with every passing second that I don’t come; and when he slows his thrusts to pull the trigger again, I’m reaching for his wrists and squeezing them like they’re going to save me. The shot of cool water once again shocks me, but it’s the dripping water down my ass that has me focusing on the task at hand.
“You don’t have to do this,” I plead.
“Of course I do. They’ll kill me if I don’t come back with answers, and then they’ll kill you—and they won’t be so nice about it,” he snarls. The speed and pressure of his gun against my pussy increases to a painfully pleasant experience to which I’m grateful because before the next shot, I’m wrapping my legs around his waist, locking him in place as I reach my climax and ride it out. Between his dick buried to the hilt and the hilt of the gun in his hand being shoved against my soft sensitive flesh, I rock and clench into him.
With only a few more thrusts, he releases himself inside me with labored grunts as my own orgasm finally makes its slow decrescendo.
Moments later, his mouth finds mine and our bodies relax. Our kiss becomes kisses. Small. Sweet. Tender. Rafael rolls us to our sides but our faces stay pressed together. When his hand moves near my pussy, I think he’s about to fuck me with the gun again; instead, with a steady hand, he pushes all four fingers against my slit, pushing his release back inside me.
Kill me now.
It’s all part of the game,I tell myself weakly. But the hormones clap back. Breed me, Rafael.
“Who’s turn is it for aftercare?” he smiles against my lips and I snort.
“I think after that we’re both due.”
We take turns cleaning the other and soothing any sore spots. We check in on our experiences and where our emotional loads lie. Like always, I tell him the truth, but only enough to not disrupt the delicate ecosystem of our friendship.
When we’ve both washed up and used the bathroom, then brushed our teeth next to one another, we make our way into bed with fresh pajamas and satisfied bodies. He places an antacid chew in my hands because he knows I get raging heartburn at night and I chew it with a smile. Then he wraps me up in his arms and Razz—all twenty pounds of him—jumps up to join us.
Has he been in here the whole time? Yeesh, how much did he hear?
My boy nuzzles and purrs his way into the space between my chest and pillow as Rafael spoons us and pets Razzle’s one-eyed face.
It’s so painfully right.
“I was thinking,” he murmurs into my hair. “Since we’re moving into the house on Chestnut before the babies come, would you like to help decorate?”
“Really?”
“Yeah. It’s going to be as much your home as it is mine.”
“Well, that’s not true at all. You own it. And aren’t you going to sell it when the market is right?”
“I don’t know,” he hums. “It’s growing on me. I feel like we could really lay down some roots there.” My heart pitter-patters at his future plans—the future plans he has for us.
“Um…okay,” I smile because what else does one do when the person they love most wants you to make his home yours? “So like, furniture and stuff?”
“Furniture, paint colors, light fixtures, you name it. Whatever you want, I want that too.”
If only that were true outside the context of our house,I think to myself.
“I’d love that,” I say with heartbreaking honesty and guilt swirling together in my gut.
“Good. It’ll probably help with your nesting habits too.”
“What are you talking about?”
He stiffens slightly. “The…weekly deep cleans of the entire townhouse? You cleaned the tops of the cabinets and the legs of the dining chairs. You steam-cleaned every piece of upholstery last weekend.”
“That’s not nesting,” I drawl. “I’m just a clean person.”
He chuckles. “We have a housekeeper, Ang.” He might have a point. “We can go over there soon and let Joaquín know our choices.”
“Oh really? I can paint. I love painting actually.”
“Ang, you get winded taking the laundry out of the dryer these days.”
“Hey,” I playfully scold. “I can handle a little paint.”