I Arrived Early and Found Them at Home

The meeting was canceled halfway through the morning. A problem with the paperwork, the client said on the phone, with that bored voice people get when they’re wasting your time. I sat for a moment in the car, in front of the offices, not knowing what to do with the next four free hours. I decided to go home.

I didn’t call. I didn’t send a message either. I thought I’d surprise Valeria, maybe take her out to lunch somewhere quiet. We’d gone weeks without doing that, with work sucking all the air out from between us.

The garage door was ajar. That should have stopped me. Valeria always locked it when she was alone. I went up the stairs quietly, thinking maybe she’d gone out to the garden for a minute and forgotten the bolt.

The sound came before the image.

I stopped in the hallway, three meters from the door to our bedroom. Half open. Fernando’s voice, Claudia’s husband, our friend for the last six years. And the sounds accompanying that voice left no room for doubt: the wet slapping of flesh against flesh, the steady creak of the bed frame, and above all my wife’s broken breathing, letting out guttural moans every time he slammed into her.

I moved closer without thinking. Part of me was still hoping I was wrong.

I wasn’t wrong.

Valeria was on all fours, her hands braced on the headboard of our bed, taking Fernando from behind as he knelt behind her. Sweat gleamed on her back and ran down the curve of her spine until it disappeared between her spread butt cheeks. Her ass was raised, offered, and from where I stood it was perfectly clear how Fernando’s cock was sliding in and out of her cunt, thick and shiny, coated with my wife’s heavy wet slick. Every thrust made Valeria’s thighs tremble and sent her tits swaying beneath her body, her hard nipples brushing the sheet. His fingers were gripping her hips with a familiarity that made me nauseous, his thumbs dug in beside my wife’s asshole, opening her a little more with each shove. Her face buried in her arms, she was making that whimper I knew so well, the one I’d thought was mine alone, now turned into a filthy, drawn-out gasp that caught in her throat every time he buried himself to the hilt.

—You’re a little cat, Valeria —Fernando said between gasps, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in—. You’re already on round two and it looks like you’re still hungry. Look how this cunt sucks my dick, she doesn’t want to let go of me.

—Don’t stop —she answered in a hoarse voice, arching her back to take him better—. Touch me and squeeze me hard, like that. Put it all in, you son of a bitch, all the way to the balls.

Fernando leaned over her, slid one hand around the front and grabbed a tit, squeezing it viciously as he kept fucking her from behind. With the other hand he yanked her hair, forcing her face up. Valeria opened her mouth and a long, animal moan came out of her.

—Why didn’t we do this sooner? —he whispered in her ear, still pumping into her—. You’d have gotten what you deserve without needing your useless husband. Tell me you like my cock more than his. Say it.

I heard her moan, writhe, shove her ass back against him. I saw Fernando lower one hand to where their bodies joined and rub her clit in circles while he kept fucking her. I saw my wife trembling all over, her whole body shaken by an orgasm, scratching at the sheet, biting her forearm so she wouldn’t scream.

What happened next I didn’t expect.

Valeria let go of the headboard, let herself fall to one side, and turned around suddenly. Fernando’s cock slipped out of her with a wet, dripping sound, still hard and red. Fernando stayed kneeling there, bewildered, staring at her. Her expression was tight, not with shame but with something that looked more like fury, her breasts heaving with her breathing and her thighs spread, glossy.

—Just because I’m behaving badly with you doesn’t give you the right to talk about Andrés like that —she said with a chilling coldness—. He’s your friend. And he’s ten times the man you are.

—But you’re here with me. With my cock inside you.

—Yes, and it’s the worst mistake I’ve ever made in my life. Andrés has no idea what you’re really like.

—After this you’re going to call me again, you’ll see. After coming all over my dick like that, you’re going to call me.

—I’m never going to call you again. What just happened here is not going to happen again. The next time we see each other, it’ll be at dinner with everyone, and you’re going to act like nothing happened. Now I need the bathroom.

I went down the stairs more carefully than I had gone up. Once outside, I got into the car and waited, watching the garage door. Ten minutes later Fernando came out at a quick pace, buttoning his jacket. I watched him turn the corner without looking back.

I waited five more minutes. Then I called Valeria.

—Hello, my love —she answered on the second ring, calm, almost perfect.

—Hi. They finished early. I think I’ll be there in about ten minutes.

—Perfect. I’ll wait for you.

I parked half a block away and watched her through the windshield. Valeria came to the door with wet hair, freshly showered, wearing the clothes she used when she was at home. She kissed me when I walked in. I didn’t pull away.

—I’m glad you were able to come back early —she said—. Get some rest.

—Wait. You smell strange.

She stepped back. Only one step.

—It must be the heat. I’m going to shower right now.

—Let me in first. I’m tired.

I went up to the bedroom. The windows were wide open. The duvet was crumpled. The pillows were out of place. The air had that closed-in, specific smell that can’t be confused with anything else: sweat, wet cunt, semen. I was taking off my jacket when Valeria came in.

—The same smell you’ve got on you is here —I said without looking at her—. Did you take a nap?

—Yes, for a little while.

—You can tell you moved around a lot. —I grabbed one corner of the duvet and pulled back the bedding. The sheets hadn’t been made, with a dark stain still wet in the center—. At least you could’ve made the bed before I got here.

While she headed toward the bathroom, I took one of the sheets and brought it up to my face. The smell was unmistakable: another man’s semen mixed with my wife’s juices. I dropped it back on the bed.

—Take this out and bring it to the laundry room. All of it. The pillowcases too. And don’t put fresh linens on, because the mattress and pillows are going to smell like that too.

She went in with trembling hands and started gathering everything without saying a word. When I came downstairs, showered and in clean clothes, I called a mover from the living room with the speaker on.

—I need to have a two-seater mattress and its pillows taken away. I don’t know where to take them because I want to donate them.

—If they don’t have a destination, I’ll take them and won’t charge you for the trip.

—Perfect. I’ll send you the address now.

Valeria appeared in the doorway to the living room. She was pale.

—Where are we sleeping tonight?

—Me in the guest room. You choose: the sofa, the staff room, or a hotel. Whatever you prefer. And please, take a proper shower. With that smell I couldn’t sleep in the same house.

—You’ve never spoken to me like this.

—There’s a first time for everything.

***

A whole week passed before I bought a new mattress and new pillows. During that time, Valeria slept in the staff room. In the mornings, each of us went to work separately. At night, we ate dinner in silence. Her eyes down, me looking away.

Ten days later, over dinner, she broke the silence.

—It hurts to live like this. It feels like any moment you’re going to ask me to leave.

—I’m not going to ask you to leave.

—Why?

—Because I love you.

She stayed silent for a long moment.

—I love you too. But you won’t even let me get close.

—It’s just that when you get close, that smell comes to me. I know it’s not there anymore, but I feel it anyway. Psychologists call it sensory memory. One sensation triggers the other even if the other one no longer exists.

—When will it go away?

—Maybe when I understand where it came from.

She fell silent. She lowered her eyes to her plate. I went back to my silence. I glanced at her and saw her chin trembling. I set compassion aside. She had to decide when to speak. I wasn’t going to push her.

That went on for two more months.

***

The group dinners with our friends continued, once a week, at different houses. Fernando kept coming with Claudia, just like always. One afternoon, while we were pouring ourselves drinks apart from the others, he came over to me.

—Andrés, I’ve noticed you’ve been acting strange for a while. Like you’re avoiding me.

—I don’t think I’m doing that.

—Then why do I feel like something’s off?

The look that crossed his face was brief but clear. The memory of that afternoon was still there, buried, and the possibility that I knew something made him uncomfortable. I didn’t say anything else. I had no intention of lifting that weight off him.

The following week we met at Rodrigo and Silvia’s house. I was talking to Claudia about something trivial when I heard Valeria’s voice rise.

—Claudia, do you know what your husband just did?

We all turned around.

—No, tell me.

—He put his hand on my thigh while telling me the only thing missing to make the night perfect was taking home a woman like me.

Fernando cleared his throat.

—It was a joke. A tasteless joke, I admit it. I apologize.

Claudia was looking at him with an expression I knew well: that of someone who has been piling up unanswered questions for a long time.

—Andrés —Valeria said, turning to me—, what do you think?

—I’m glad Fernando apologized —I answered—. And I’m very proud of my wife for saying it out loud. —I paused—. And that I trust her completely.

I said the last words looking straight into her eyes. Valeria lowered her head.

—Excuse me, everyone. I don’t feel well. Andrés, will you take me home?

***

I drove in silence. Halfway there, without looking, I saw her wipe her cheek with the back of her hand. I reached out and took her hand. It was the first physical contact in four months. She went still for a second and then wrapped my hand between both of hers, pressed it against her wet cheek, and kissed it.

We went into the house holding hands.

That night, once we were in bed, I held her. Her head rested in the hollow of my shoulder. She stayed silent for a few minutes and then started to cry, first softly, then with sobs shaking her chest. I kissed her forehead and waited.

—I want to tell you —she said when she could speak—. I can’t keep carrying this alone.

—I’m listening.

—I was unfaithful to you. Just once. In the very moment it was happening I already knew I had made the worst mistake of my life. I promised myself it would never happen again and I kept that promise. I didn’t tell you before because I was afraid of losing you, not because I wanted to deceive you. Andrés, I’m asking your forgiveness. Whatever you decide will be okay, even if it hurts me.

I stayed silent for a moment.

—Come here —I said—. Let’s sleep. Let the other body remind us we’re still here.

***

The next morning, when she came back from the bathroom, I wrapped my arms around her from behind. She was naked, still warm from the shower, her skin smelling of soap. My hands began to move slowly, unhurriedly, tracing her belly, rising to cup her breasts, weighing them, pinching her nipples until I felt them harden under my fingers. She leaned back against me and closed her eyes, tilting her head back onto my shoulder. I brought one hand down over her flat stomach and slid my fingers between her thighs. She was wet, slippery, and she let out a moan when I rubbed her clit with my middle finger.

—Andrés —she whispered—, please.

I pushed her slowly toward the bed, bent her at the waist against the edge of the mattress, with her feet still on the floor. I opened her legs with my knee. I pulled down my pajama pants, took hold of my hard cock, and ran it several times through my wife’s soaked slit, wetting my tip in her juices, teasing her. She pushed her hips back, looking for me, and I let out a growl when the tip found her entrance. I went in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, feeling her hot cunt open to take me and then close around me like a fist.

—Yes —she whispered, pressing her face into the pillow—. How much I needed this. How much I needed to feel you.

I started moving slowly, with long, deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out to slide back in to the hilt. I squeezed her hip with one hand and gathered her hair in the other, not pulling, just holding it so I could see the nape of her neck, her shoulders, her arched back. Every thrust drew a gasp from her, and I felt her pushing back each time, meeting me halfway, looking for me deeper.

—Like that —I told her in her ear, leaning over her back—. Feel me properly. It’s me. It’s your husband fucking you.

—It’s you —she moaned—. It’s you, my love, it’s you.

I grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her, still inside her, until I had her standing against me, her back pressed to my chest. I slid one arm across her front, crossing over her tits, and with my other hand I went back for her clit. I kept moving inside her, shorter now, deeper, while I rubbed the little bud between two fingers. She threw her head back and found my mouth over her shoulder. We kissed tongue to tongue, each of us gasping into the other’s mouth, while I kept fucking her standing from behind.

—I’m going to come —she murmured against my lips—. Andrés, I’m going to come.

—Come. Come for me.

I felt her tremble all over, clamp down inside me with a long contraction that nearly dragged me over the edge too. I held her weight because her legs gave out. When she was done, I bent her forward against the bed again, drove my hands into her hips, and this time fucked her without restraint, with fast, hard thrusts that slapped against her ass. She moaned beneath me, her fingers clutching the new sheet, pushing her ass toward me, wordlessly begging me to finish inside her.

—Inside —she murmured—. Come inside me. Please.

I held out as long as I could and then let go. I felt the pulse rise from deep inside me, the hot burst shooting in jets into her while I held her with both hands and she pushed back to not lose a single drop. I stayed buried to the hilt for a few seconds, forehead against her back, breathing.

We stayed like that for a long while, unhurried, recovering something we had stopped doing with care. Then, in a low voice, she asked if we could change positions, if she could get on top, if we could do it the other way too.

—I’d rather we wait a little —I said, pulling out slowly, watching my semen run down her thigh—. When enough time has passed, we’ll do it every way you want.

She stayed still. Then she took the pillow and pressed it against her face. She cried for a few seconds. When she lowered it, her eyes searched for mine.

—You saw us.

It wasn’t a question.

—Yes. I also saw you defend me. I heard what you said. And I believed you when you promised it would never happen again.

She was silent for a long moment.

—Will that memory ever go away?

—I don’t know. But we can work to push it far away.

She looked at me with something I hadn’t seen on her face for months. It wasn’t relief exactly. It was something more like being back in the same place after having been lost separately.

—Tell me how —she said.

—We start today —I replied—. And we take it slow.