I Received a Photo of My Husband with His Lover

I was two months pregnant. We had just confirmed it, and it was a planned pregnancy, both of ours. When I told Mateo, he hugged me so hard I thought we were going to be happy for the rest of our lives. I was twenty-four, he was twenty-six, and everything seemed to fit.

Fifteen days later, a photo arrived on my phone.

It was Mateo, naked, with a girl from his office. They were fucking in missionary position and there was no doubt it was them. The image had the date and time overlaid: 7:23 p.m. that very same day. She, Sabrina, had sent it to me an hour after taking it. It took me a while to understand that she had not only taken him to bed, but wanted me to break up with him. That the photo was a weapon aimed at my marriage.

I imagined Mateo caressing her breasts the way he caressed mine. He had that knack: once, he had made me come just with his hands on my tits. Thinking that was what broke me.

I cried uncontrollably for an hour. He had not only slept with another woman; he had done it knowing I was pregnant, that this baby was the dream we were supposedly sharing. Why get me pregnant if he had someone else? Slowly, the crying turned into something else. Cold rage, the kind that thinks.

***

That night I got into bed naked at ten, before he got home. Mateo usually came back earlier, but that day he showed up at eleven.

—Elisa? —he called as he came in.

—I’m in bed —I shouted.

—What for? So early?

—I’m reading —I said. And it was true, I was reading. It was part of a plan I didn’t even fully understand myself. I think I wanted to check whether he still desired me, and something else I was missing.

He came into the room, kissed me, and lifted the sheet. When he saw my bare shoulders, he pulled it down a little more and discovered I was completely naked.

—Were you waiting for me? —he smiled.

—I was horny. Since you weren’t coming, I gave myself a hand —I said, pretending to be embarrassed.

—Wow. I had dinner with people from work. Who were you thinking of? Was I in it?

He hadn’t exactly lied to me: Sabrina was people from work. But his lie was the worst of them all.

—At first, yes —I replied—. Then I thought you didn’t deserve it, for being late without saying anything, and I forced myself to imagine something else. Damián.

Damián was a good friend of mine whom, before Mateo, I had kissed only once. He knew that. The masturbation thing was a lie, but that line gave me one of the ideas I would end up carrying out.

—Should I be jealous? —he asked, his voice already different.

—I don’t know. I had such a good time… Damián didn’t leave a single inch untouched.

—You’re acting weird.

—If you’ve already eaten, get into bed with me.

He hesitated. I know he hesitated because he was coming from another bed, but I know him: the mention of Damián woke up his pride. He brushed his teeth, stripped, and got in with me. He caressed my breasts and we fucked. It wasn’t the best time in our lives; neither of us was at our best. He came in satisfied; I fucked with a rage that I disguised by imitating that Sabrina I didn’t even know, wilder than I usually am.

***

Three days later it was Friday. On Fridays Mateo worked late at the company and came home late, when he didn’t take the chance to keep going with her in both senses of the word.

I had called Damián a couple of days earlier and we had arranged to meet at his place. He didn’t have a partner, which was important. He was not very promiscuous and he was healthy, which also mattered, because I intended to let him come inside me. In his living room I told him the whole situation and asked him to sleep with me and let me take a photo. At first he was taken aback. Then he said yes.

—Wouldn’t you rather we faked it? —he asked.

—I’d rather have a good time.

I took him to his bedroom and left the phone within reach. I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him closer until his mouth was in front of mine. The kiss tasted like heaven, just like before Mateo. We stretched it out, playing with lips and tongue while I unbuttoned his shirt. He did the same with my blouse, nervous, which confirmed for me that he really wanted it.

I took off my bra, hugged him, and put my hand on one breast. I was already getting wet. I unfastened his belt, slid my hand in, and wrapped it around his cock. I was turned on by how different it was, new; I had always thought I would only know Mateo’s, and look at that. With some frenzy, he pulled down my skirt and thong, stripped off the rest in one go, and we fell onto the bed.

He kissed my whole body, lingered on my breasts, and went down to my pussy, which was soaked. He licked me all over, paused at the clit, and moved over it slowly, barely biting it. I stroked his ass and his dick. This is told quickly, but we took our time, all pleasure, until I came. Right in the middle of the climax Mateo’s face flashed through my mind, I suppose out of habit.

I asked him to let me take it in my mouth and sucked him for a while, helping myself with my hand. I was afraid he’d come and climbed on top of him. Damián went for my breasts, bigger than usual because of the pregnancy: the only thing showing yet.

—I need to stay on top, I’m only a little pregnant —I explained—. That’s the good part: you can come inside me, you won’t get me pregnant.

—That’s why your tits are like this. God, what tits. Can I?

—Right now they’re yours.

He sucked them like a madman, especially the nipples. He was rock-hard. I guided him to the entrance, rubbed him a little against the clit, the way I always liked, and took him in. Damián pushed and I felt him fill me up completely. I don’t know whether he was moaning or I was; it didn’t matter. We both came at the same time.

—Don’t pull out yet —I said.

With him still inside, I grabbed the phone, already set to print the date and time.

—He’s going to hate this, but smile at the camera.

I smiled too and took three photos where it was crystal clear we were fucking. I chose one from 9:51 p.m. I didn’t send it. The plan wasn’t complete.

***

We showered together and enjoyed the water. I knelt down and took him in my mouth while the spray fell on the back of my neck. I pulled back for a moment.

—I don’t have time for another round, but I’d love for you to come in my mouth. Do you want to?

—Of course. Even more than you do.

He did it slowly. I swallowed him and rinsed with the shower water.

Mateo got home five minutes after I did. In those five minutes I had time to call my brother.

—Pablo, I need a favor. Tomorrow at seven I need an alibi, don’t ask why. Supposedly we’re meeting to talk about Mom and having dinner at your place.

—Okay. I hope it’s nothing serious. If she calls me by chance, I won’t answer.

—Perfect.

***

The next day I dressed nicely, not provocatively, because Mateo would see me leave. At six-thirty I went to a bar someone had once mentioned to me as a place to pick up men. I ordered a rum and Coke at a small table. Before long, a guy about twenty-nine asked to sit with me. We flirted, had another drink, and after an hour he invited me to his apartment.

—Yes, but on three conditions —I said—. One: I’m on top. Two: condom, I’m healthy but I don’t know you. Three, the weirdest one: you let me take a photo where it’s clear we’re fucking, and you smile at the camera.

—At least one of those is very weird. Can I ask why?

—No problem. I’m married and I got a photo of my husband fucking another woman. I want to send him one on equal terms.

—Damn, you’re fierce. So you came ready to fuck. Well, this place is for that. I think it’s funny. I’ll cooperate, and if we ever end up as a couple, remind me not to cheat on you.

We laughed and walked to his place, which wasn’t far. We stripped completely.

—God, what tits. I’m going to love fucking you.

He left two condoms on the nightstand; I prepared the phone. I moved closer, he had a good body and was taller than me, so I had to make him lower his head to kiss him. I planted a hand on his ass and pressed my body to his; he grabbed my buttocks with both hands. His cock was growing between us. I slipped my hand in, pressed him against my belly, and played with the foreskin, pulling it up and down.

He lifted me into the air with one arm around my neck and the other under my ass and dropped me onto the bed. I was soaked again. He spent a long time on my breasts, then his hands ran over my entire body at once, as if he wanted to possess all of me. He spread my legs and went down on me. He did it so well that I moaned like a crazy woman, grabbed his hair, and crushed his face against me until I came in waves.

When he sat up, he was swollen and red. I took him in my mouth and tasted him; I would have liked him to finish like that, but the photo had to show us fucking. I let him go with a lick from bottom to top.

—Are you putting the condom on?

While he put it on, I got into position on top of him and sat on his cock. I stretched out my arm to take the photo, but I couldn’t frame both of us.

—Here —he said, and with his longer arm he managed it.

—Could you smile, both of us?

—Of course.

He smiled, I smiled, he snapped it.

—I swear I won’t use it or show it to anyone —he said—. Will you let me send myself a copy as a souvenir?

I thought about it a long time, because promises are carried away by the wind. But he seemed sincere and he was doing me a huge favor.

—You can send it to yourself later.

He was still inside, softer now. He caressed me and kissed my breasts until he was hard again, and since I was on top it was up to me to do the rocking. He had the detail of bringing a finger to my clit. I pumped for a good while, truly enjoying myself, and we both came shouting, especially me. At that moment I almost thanked Mateo’s infidelity, which had set all this in motion.

I lay on top of him until he slipped out. I removed the condom with a tissue and cleaned him carefully.

—You have a very beautiful cock —I said, and kissed the tip—. Can I shower?

—Better together.

We soaped each other up, I jerked him off, and he returned the favor with a condition: he slid his middle fingers in to my G-spot and, with his open hand, gave me an orgasm I had never felt like that before. He finished after that. We hugged naked under the water. It was romantic, and we both knew it would probably be the last time. I thought he was a better lover than Mateo.

Before leaving, I unlocked my phone and let him send himself the two photos.

—When you need a favor, you have my number —he said at the door.

***

On Sunday, with both of us at home, I sent Mateo the three photos: first his, then Damián’s, and finally the stranger’s, whose name I never knew, nor he mine. I hesitated until the very end; I felt a little sorry, and my anger had calmed a lot with those thoroughly satisfying fucks. But I did it.

Mateo’s phone rang three times. The first thing he saw was my name.

—What are you sending me?

—Look at it slowly.

He saw the first one and went white. There was nothing to deny.

—Where did you get this?

—The bitch Sabrina sent it to me. She wanted us to break up.

He moved on to the next and paled again.

—And this? What did you do?

—It’s obvious. The same thing you did, but twice over. I don’t know whether you had one fuck or two hundred, or whether it was only with her. I did what you see here and I had a fucking great time. All three have dates.

—You could have talked about it instead of doing something irreversible.

—What you did is irreversible. I’m pregnant, I can’t get pregnant again. I don’t know whether you got Sabrina pregnant. If you hadn’t done that, I wouldn’t have done anything. Look who started it.

—How could you?

—I did the same thing you did. Thinking mine is worse than yours is a bit sexist. If I did it, it’s because I’m pregnant and want to give the baby a chance. If I weren’t, I would have separated without fucking anyone.

I offered him three exits: separate, forget everything, or stay together as an open couple. I told him my fucks had been much more than a revenge errand, and that was true. Mateo slept in the guest room for two days.

—I’d rather forget everything —he said at last—. It won’t be easy. We both know we fucked, and there’s proof on top of it. Though that weighs less than what stuck in our heads.

—Where are you going to sleep?

—If you don’t mind, with you. But I don’t think I’ll be able to make love for a while.

—That’s fine.

***

Three months later I ran into my nameless lover by chance. My belly was already obvious.

—That can’t be mine —he said with a laugh.

—No. I was already pregnant when we were together, and you used a condom.

—So how did the photo thing go?

I told him almost everything, except for Damián.

—I’m glad it worked out for you —he said—. If it ever doesn’t, call me. Even if it’s just for a coffee. I have a wonderful memory of you.

—And I of you.

We hugged with my belly between us and laughed about it. He rested his hand on my belly for a long time.

—May it turn out as handsome or beautiful as you are.

Some time later he called me and I went to have that coffee, baby and stroller included. He was affectionate with her. Damián and I remained friends; I assured Mateo there would be no more sex if there wasn’t any on his side either, and he accepted the friendship.

Things are going well with Mateo. I never told him what I learned from that man whose name I never knew: at some point I found it funny not to know it. I’m talking about the thing with the fingers on the G-spot. One day I told him I wanted to watch him masturbate, and he wanted to watch me. We did it facing each other. I used that method on myself and he learned it without knowing where it came from. Since then he has given me many orgasms that way, and by other means.