What My Husband and I Do Behind Closed Doors

There’s a version of me that almost nobody knows. The one who smiles at office dinners, the one who greets the neighbors in the elevator, the one who gives back too much change at the bakery. That woman is real, but she’s only half the story. The other half lives behind closed doors, in the bedroom I share with Bruno, and she’s quite a bit dirtier than anyone would imagine.

I’ve always been a woman of appetites. From a young age I was drawn to everything everyone else considered too much, to anything that was one step beyond what was decent. When I met Bruno and discovered that he had the same bottomless curiosity, I knew I’d found my accomplice. We moved forward slowly, testing, adding, until we got to what really turns us on: the filthiest game of all, the one that blends absolute control with total surrender.

That Saturday afternoon we planned it calmly. We’d eaten heavily at midday, a dish of stewed chickpeas and a heavy cut of meat, knowing what would come later. We closed the curtains, disconnected the phones, and spread an old towel over the mattress. The anticipation was almost worse than the act itself. All through the afternoon slump I’d been pressing my thighs together under the table.

—Ready? —Bruno asked me, taking off his T-shirt beside the bed.

—I’ve been ready since we set the table —I answered.

***

We started as always, with what we already knew, to light the fuse slowly. I knelt in front of him and took his cock into my mouth. Bruno held my hair in one hand, not tugging yet, setting the rhythm gently. I sucked him eagerly, looking up at him, enjoying the way his eyes half-closed. I left his shaft gleaming with spit before letting it go with a wet sound.

—Now you —he said, pushing me gently toward the mattress.

I lay on my back and he settled between my legs. I felt his breath first, then his tongue. He moved it slowly over my clit, drawing circles that forced my back to arch. Bruno knew exactly what to do; years of practice had taught him every one of my spots. He licked me hungrily, sinking in, while I pinched my nipples, which had hardened until they hurt.

I can’t take much more like this.

When he noticed I was close, he stopped. It was part of the game: bringing me to the edge and letting me drop into the void without finishing. He put on a condom and entered me in one single thrust. His face was only inches from mine. I stuck out my tongue brazenly and he bit it before kissing me.

—You’re a slut —he whispered in my ear—. My slut.

—Say it again —I begged, gasping.

He fucked me with a force that made the bed creak. I moaned uncontrollably, clinging to his shoulders, digging my nails into him. Bruno talked dirty to me, a stream of obscenities that turned me on as much as his movements did. He kept at it for several minutes, until he pulled out before coming. We didn’t want to finish yet; the best was still to come.

***

—Get on all fours —he ordered, and I obeyed without thinking.

I rested my forehead against the headboard and arched my back, offering him my ass. I felt his tongue run along my slit, stopping at my asshole, lingering there patiently. He spread my cheeks with both hands to get deeper. The sensation ran up my spine like an electric current. When he decided I was lubricated enough, he straightened and fucked me from behind.

The impact tore a muffled cry from me. Bruno went in and out without mercy, and the collision of his body against mine filled the room with an obscene noise that made me even hornier. He slapped one cheek, then the other, until they burned. I pushed back, seeking more depth, lost in the mix of pain and pleasure.

—Turn around —he said suddenly, his voice hoarse—. I’ve got a sudden urge.

My pulse sped up. That phrase was the signal, the door that led to what we were really waiting for. I lay on my back in the middle of the mattress and watched him climb astride me, crouching there with his ass right above my face.

***

I opened my mouth and waited. Bruno started by letting out a couple of farts, which I took the opportunity to inhale deeply. The smell, intense and harsh, flooded my head with an excitement I don’t know how to explain to anyone who doesn’t share this with us. For us there’s nothing disgusting about it; it’s the most intimate thing, the most ours, the last secret we don’t show anyone.

—Hold still —he murmured, straining.

I touched my clit with my hand while he pushed. I watched his body tense, the muscle giving way little by little. The first piece emerged slowly, thick, and fell straight between my parted lips. The weight, the warm texture, the earthy taste hit me all at once. I swallowed what I could and what slipped away I let run down the corner of my mouth and onto my neck.

Bruno wasn’t done. He lifted his hips a little more and pushed again. The second piece dropped onto my forehead and slid down to my nose. I stuck out my tongue and raised it to catch it, not losing a single drop of that surrender. He looked down at me from above with a mixture of pride and desire that made me feel like the most worshiped woman and the most degraded one at the same time. That contradiction is exactly what we’re after.

He straightened, grabbed what was left, and started rubbing it over my body. Over my breasts, my belly, my thighs. I moaned, completely surrendered, smearing myself with it, coating myself in his smell. The whole room stank, and that aroma drove us wild.

***

—Now it’s my turn to feed you —I said, pushing him down so he’d lie on his back.

Bruno let himself fall, smiling, his eyes bright with raw hunger. I crouched over his face, just as he had done with me, and left my ass a couple of centimeters from his open mouth. He grabbed my hips, impatient, pulling me downward.

I started straining. First came a few farts, which my husband sniffed like a madman, burying his nose between my cheeks. I kept pushing for a good while, feeling everything force its way out. Bruno waited with his tongue out, hungry. When at last the first piece gave way and fell into his mouth, I heard him sigh in pleasure and start tasting it slowly.

I gave him no respite. A second push filled that open mouth again. Bruno was masturbating while swallowing as best he could, his face completely devoted to his fetish. Watching him like that, lost, beside himself, brought me to the brink again and again. I straightened a little and shifted until I left my ass on his torso, where I deposited one last piece that he spread over his chest and stomach with both hands, imitating what I had done before.

I leaned down and started licking his torso, tracing every centimeter of that mixture that was ours. The taste, the smell, the heat of his skin trembling beneath my tongue. Bruno couldn’t take it anymore.

***

—I’m coming —he warned with a long moan.

His semen came in spurts and mixed with everything else on his belly. A few seconds later, still panting, he also let out a stream of urine that washed some of his body clean, running down his sides to the towel. I watched him, satisfied, still feeling the tingling between my legs.

—I’m next —I said.

I crawled until I positioned my pussy over his face. Bruno understood at once and held my thighs. I let go, pissing over his face while he opened his mouth to drink whatever he could. I finished with a shudder that ran from head to toe, the orgasm I’d been holding back the entire session finally exploding.

We stayed still for a moment, catching our breath, looking at each other like two accomplices who have just committed a delicious crime. The sheets were ruined, the room was a mess, and we were both complete pigs. And yet, or precisely because of that, there were not two people in the world more closely united than we were in that instant.

—We’ll have to put all this in the washing machine —Bruno said, laughing.

—After —I replied—. First, a shower together.

***

We got under the hot water and soaped each other up slowly, groping one another between laughs and caresses. The dirty part was over, and now came the tenderness, which for us is just as important. Bruno hugged me from behind, kissed my neck, and whispered in my ear something he’d been turning over in his mind for a while.

—What if next time we go up a level?

—What are you thinking? —I asked, turning toward him.

He told me, a new idea, even more extreme, one I’d rather keep to ourselves. I bit his lip in reply. There was no need to say yes out loud.

That’s the truth of our marriage, the one that doesn’t appear in the dinner photos or the elevator greetings. Behind closed doors we are something else: two people who stopped being embarrassed by each other long ago, who found their own language in what’s forbidden. As long as we can close that door, we’ll keep seeking together how far desire goes when all the brakes are taken off. And believe me: we haven’t found the bottom yet.