My Boss Discovered What My Husband No Longer Gave Me

Carolina had just turned thirty and felt that her life had come to a standstill somewhere without anyone telling her. She was married to Esteban, a good man who worked at a building-supply warehouse on the outskirts of Córdoba and came home with exhaustion sunk into his bones. They had a four-year-old daughter, Sofía, who devoured her hours with the exhausting devotion of small children. The nights always ended the same way: him asleep in front of the television, her staring at the ceiling, wide awake, one hand buried between her thighs beneath her pajamas and the other covering her mouth so no one would hear her.

During the day she was the director’s assistant at a marketing agency downtown. The job gave her stability and, above all, put her face-to-face every morning with Marcelo, her boss. In his forties, divorced, tall, broad-shouldered, with a smile that always seemed to conceal an intention he never said aloud. Carolina noticed him watching her whenever she passed with the folder of reports, and she had stopped pretending she didn’t like it.

She dressed for him without fully admitting it. Skirts that emphasized her hips, blouses through which the lace could be guessed. Her marriage was a desert: every so often Esteban wanted her, climbed on top of her for three minutes, came inside without warning, and fell asleep with his back to her, without biting the nape of her neck the way she imagined another man would, without lowering his head between her legs, without licking her anywhere. In the shower, with water cascading down her back, she pinched her nipples and slipped two fingers into her cunt, thinking about Marcelo’s hands, his mouth, the cock that sometimes showed through his trousers when she passed him in the hallway.

One Friday afternoon, the office emptied early. Sofía was with her grandmother; Esteban was at a barbecue with coworkers from the warehouse. Marcelo called her into his office to go over some figures they both knew were irrelevant.

—Close the door —he said without looking up from the desk.

Carolina closed it. The click of the latch sounded louder than it should have. She sat down across from him and crossed her legs, aware of every millimeter of skin she was showing.

Marcelo stood, walked around the desk, and leaned against the edge, right in front of her. He was so close that she could smell his cologne.

—You know perfectly well what you do to me, don’t you? —he murmured. He brushed her knee with two fingers and began moving upward, slowly, gauging her—. Every day you come in here wearing that skirt, and I keep thinking about what it would be like to grab you by the hair and fuck you on top of this desk.

—We shouldn’t —she said. But she didn’t move her leg away. She opened it slightly, just enough for him to understand.

I’m married, she thought. And the mere thought lit up her cunt as though someone had brought an ember close to it.

Marcelo took her by the waist, lifted her from the chair, and sat her on the desk. He raised her skirt to her hips with a calmness that made her tremble more than any haste could have. When he hooked a finger into her panties and pulled them to one side, Carolina held her breath. He looked at her for one full second before touching her, and that second was the most intimate thing of all. Then he ran two fingers along her slit, from bottom to top, opening her lips, and showed them to her glistening with her juices before sucking them in front of her.

—You’re soaking wet —he said softly, almost surprised—. You’re dripping, Carolina. Your husband has no idea what he’s missing.

She bit her lip and nodded. She didn’t want to speak. She didn’t want to think about Esteban. She wanted exactly this: another man’s mouth against her cunt, guilt turning into desire, the certainty that she was doing something she couldn’t undo. She leaned back, braced her elbows on the desk, and spread her legs all the way, offering herself to him.

Marcelo knelt between her thighs and kissed her there with his flat tongue, unhurried, licking her from bottom to top, stopping at her clitoris to suck it as though it were a piece of candy. Carolina had to grip the edge of the desk to keep from falling backward. He pushed one finger inside her, then two, curling them inward, searching for the spot Esteban had never even thought to look for. His tongue kept working above, pressing her clitoris, tracing circles over it, while she pulled his hair with both hands and bit her forearm to keep from screaming.

—Don’t stop —she begged, her voice breaking—. Please, don’t stop.

Marcelo inserted a third finger and quickened his tongue. Carolina felt the orgasm rising from her heels. Her throat closed, her thighs tightened around his head, and she came against his mouth in a long tremor, soaking his chin, his nose, everything. When Marcelo stood up, his face was shining and he wore a smile she would never forget.

—You’re going to get on your knees now —he told her, undoing his belt—. And you’re going to suck my cock as if it were the only thing that matters in the world.

Carolina slid off the desk and knelt without needing to be told twice. She yanked down his trousers and boxer briefs. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, with a vein running from top to bottom and a clear drop at the tip. It was bigger than Esteban’s. She gripped it, ran her tongue over the tip, licking away that drop, and then slowly put it in her mouth, pressing it against her palate while watching his jaw tense. She liked the power of that moment, having him at her mercy before surrendering completely.

—That’s it, slowly —Marcelo panted, burying his fingers in her hair—. Look at me. I want to see your eyes while you suck me.

Carolina raised her eyes without taking him out of her mouth. She began sucking him harder, moving up and down, helping herself with one hand at the base, sucking his balls too, leaving strands of saliva hanging from her chin. She took him all the way in until the tip touched the back of her throat and she gagged, tears filling her eyes, and even then she didn’t stop. Marcelo began pushing her head, fucking her mouth at his own pace.

—Whore, you suck so well —he grunted—. Better than anyone.

Then he pulled her up by the hair, turned her over on the desk, and pressed her cheek against the cold wood. He yanked her skirt up, tore off her panties, and left her with her ass raised and exposed. One slap reddened her right cheek. Another struck the left. Carolina moaned and arched her back farther, asking for it. Marcelo ran the tip of his cock along her slit, wetting it with her juices, rubbing it against her clitoris, against her entrance, without putting it in.

—Ask me for it —he said—. Ask me to put it in you.

—Put it in me —Carolina gasped—. Put it all the way in, please. Fuck me.

When he penetrated her in a single thrust, all the way to the hilt, Carolina felt the air leave her and released a long moan that filled the empty office. Marcelo’s cock reached places she hadn’t known she had. He stayed still for a second, letting her feel all of him, and then began fucking her in earnest, his hands on her hips, pulling her back against him with every thrust.

—Harder —she begged, pushing backward—. Don’t hold back. Break me.

Marcelo didn’t hold back. He fucked her until the desk creaked, until the papers fell to the floor, grabbing her tits beneath her blouse, ripping off her bra, pinching her nipples between thumb and forefinger until she screamed. He bit the nape of her neck. He spat on her ass and ran his thumb over her hole, pressing lightly, playing with her.

—Tell me you’re mine —he said in her ear without stopping—. Say it.

—I’m yours —Carolina gasped—. I’m your whore. Fuck me however you want.

—And your husband?

—Fuck him. She’s yours, this cunt is yours.

Marcelo sped up. The desk slammed against the wall. Carolina held on as best she could, her face pressed against the wood, her mouth open, drool running down her chin. She came first, her whole body convulsing, squeezing his cock inside her with spasms that drew a muffled growl from him. Marcelo held out a few seconds longer, pulled out, turned her around, and aimed at her face.

—Open your mouth —he ordered.

She knelt and stuck out her tongue. He came in jets: the first landed on her cheek, the second on her lips, the third directly on her tongue. Carolina swallowed what she could, ran her fingers over her face, and sucked them clean, looking up at him.

They stayed that way, panting, the wall clock marking an hour neither of them cared about.

***

What began that afternoon became a secret routine. Carolina arrived home with her body still hot, Marcelo’s semen drying in the clean panties she had put on for the trip back, kissed Esteban on the cheek as though nothing had happened, and asked about his day. Afternoons at the office turned into stolen encounters: the bathroom at the back, with her kneeling and sucking him while coworkers came and went on the other side of the door; a borrowed apartment where he tied her to the bed with his belt; Marcelo’s car parked in a vacant lot outside the city, with her straddling his lap, riding him behind fogged-up windows, her skirt hiked around her waist.

A week later, he booked a hotel room by the hour. There, things changed in tone. Marcelo tied her wrists to the headboard with his own tie and blindfolded her with the other. He spread her legs and ran a feather over her nipples, her navel, the insides of her thighs, never touching her cunt.

—Today you’ll do everything I tell you —he murmured—. And if you come without permission, I’ll put it in your ass without lube.

Blindfolded, Carolina discovered that the thrill multiplied when she couldn’t anticipate anything. Every caress arrived without warning, every word raised gooseflesh on her skin. He ran an ice cube over her nipples, then put his hot mouth over them. He thrust three fingers into her at once and pulled them out just as she began to tremble. He made her suck his cock while blindfolded and tied up, pushing her head. He licked her ass for the first time, slowly, sinking his tongue inside, and Carolina writhed against her restraints, begging him to put something in her, anything.

—Please —she whimpered—. Put it wherever you want. I’m begging you.

He put it in her cunt first, all the way to the hilt, fucked her like that for a few minutes, then pulled it out and pressed it against her ass. He applied a little saliva. He pushed slowly. Carolina clenched her teeth when the tip forced its way in, then let out a guttural moan she had never made before when his entire cock sank into her from behind. Marcelo fucked her ass patiently at first, then without mercy, while rubbing her clitoris with two fingers. She came screaming against the gag he had improvised from her soaked panties.

When he finally removed the blindfold, Carolina saw her own face in the ceiling mirror—the smeared mascara, swollen mouth, red nipples, semen running down her thigh—and didn’t recognize herself. She liked not recognizing herself.

At night, lying beside Esteban, she went over every detail and touched herself beneath the sheets, holding her breath so she wouldn’t wake him. She pushed two fingers inside herself and caressed her clitoris while thinking of Marcelo’s cock opening her ass, his tongue, his semen on her face. She thought many times about leaving Esteban. But the secret aroused her more than the idea of freedom.

***

The point of no return was a trip. The agency closed a deal with a Peruvian company and sent Marcelo to Lima to sign the papers. He asked Carolina to accompany him “for coordination.” Esteban didn’t even ask questions; Sofía stayed with her grandparents. She packed black lingerie, a small plug Marcelo had given her, and decided not to set any limits.

They arrived on a Thursday. As soon as the bedroom door closed, Marcelo pushed her against the wall and slipped his hand beneath her skirt. He tore off her panties in one pull and thrust three fingers into her cunt up to the wrist.

—You’ve been wet since the plane —he said against her neck, biting it.

—Do whatever you want —she replied, his fingers moving inside her—. But don’t leave any marks Esteban could see.

He fucked her against the wall first, one of her legs hooked around his hip, then threw her onto the bed and spent half an hour between her legs, eating her cunt until he made her come three times in a row.

Friday’s meetings were with two partners from the local company: Mateo, a dark-haired Liman with a mischievous smile, and Joaquín, taller, with a deep voice, who left his hand on Carolina’s waist a second longer than necessary when greeting her. She noticed. Marcelo did too.

That night, after dinner, all four of them ended up at the hotel bar. The conversation grew hotter over rounds of pisco. Joaquín stared at her without disguising it, his eyes fixed on her cleavage.

—Are you open to new things, Carolina? —he asked bluntly.

She felt herself blush. Beneath the table, Marcelo squeezed her thigh and slid his hand upward until he brushed her cunt over her panties.

—Tell him the truth —he whispered in her ear.

Carolina set her glass on the table and looked at all three men.

—I like being used —she said, with a calmness that surprised even her—. I like being fucked by several men.

All four of them went upstairs. It began in the elevator: Marcelo kissing her violently, biting her lips; Joaquín pressing against her back, his erection outlined against her ass; Mateo slipping a hand between her legs and finding her already wet. Carolina closed her eyes and let herself be carried away by the hands she couldn’t quite identify.

In the suite, all three of them undressed her, ripping off her dress, bra, and panties. They sat her on the edge of the bed and put two cocks in front of her face. Carolina looked at them for a second—Mateo’s darker and curved, Joaquín’s longer and thicker—gripped one in each hand, and began sucking them alternately, running her tongue from one to the other, sucking their balls, letting them spit into her mouth. Behind her, Marcelo knelt and ate her ass while she sucked, burying his tongue inside and opening her with his thumbs.

—Look at her suck, this whore —Joaquín said, pulling her hair—. Swallow while she swallows.

He spat in her face. Carolina opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue to ask for more.

They lay her down. Joaquín mounted her and penetrated her in one thrust with that enormously long cock that reached her deepest places. He fucked her hard, looking her in the eyes, while Mateo stood beside her head and put his in her mouth. Carolina sucked and was fucked at the same time, her eyes full of tears from pleasure and choking. Marcelo sat in the armchair opposite, pulled out his cock, and masturbated while watching the scene, directing her with his voice.

—Turn her over —he ordered—. Put her on all fours.

They put her on all fours. Joaquín entered from behind and drove himself into her cunt from that angle. Mateo kept fucking her mouth from the front. Marcelo approached, spread saliva over her ass, and waited his turn. When double penetration began, Carolina let out a muffled scream. Two men had never had her at the same time. She felt both cocks moving inside her, separated by barely a thin wall of flesh, and her vision clouded.

—It’s too much —she gasped, not knowing whether she was asking them to stop or continue.

—Hold on —Marcelo told her in her ear, sinking his own into her ass—. You can take it. You’re my whore.

And she held on. The three of them fucked her in every possible combination: two below, one above, one in her mouth. They changed holes without asking, spat on her, pulled her hair, and slapped her ass until it was red. Carolina came three times, one after another, trembling with her face buried in the sheets.

When all three were about to come, they sat her on the floor with her back against the bed and surrounded her. They masturbated over her. Mateo came first, unloading on her tits. Then Joaquín, aiming at her open mouth. Marcelo, last, came on her face, in her hair, on her lips. Carolina remained there, sitting on the floor, covered in all three men’s semen, looking up at them with a smile too big for her face.

Afterward, all three lifted her, carried her to the shower, and washed her, taking turns kissing her, fingering her, and sucking her nipples. Carolina lay in the middle of the bed, exhausted, empty, and, in a way she couldn’t explain, completely awake for the first time in years.

On the flight home, she could barely settle into her seat; her ass still burned. She arrived home, kissed Esteban and Sofía as though she had just returned from a week of boring meetings, and that same night, while her husband snored, touched herself thinking about Lima, the three cocks, the face covered in semen.

***

The secret began to weigh on her. Not because of guilt, but because she wanted to tell him. One afternoon, while Marcelo had her pressed against the bathroom sink at the office, her skirt hiked up and his cock buried inside her to the balls, she voiced the idea that had been circling her mind for days.

—I want you to come over for dinner —she gasped, thrusting her ass back against him—. With Esteban and Sofía.

—Are you crazy? —Marcelo laughed without stopping fucking her, gripping her hair—. You want me to have dinner with your husband while he thinks about how I left you in Lima with three dicks inside you?

—Exactly that —she murmured, coming against the sink—. Exactly that.

She invited him over on a Saturday. A barbecue in Cerro de las Rosas, everything absolutely normal until dessert, when Esteban, tipsy from the Malbec, became confessional.

—I have a fantasy I’ve never told anyone about —he said, looking at his glass—. Imagining her with someone else. Watching her. Watching them fuck her in front of me. I don’t know why, but it makes me harder than anything.

Carolina froze. Marcelo, on the other hand, didn’t even blink.

—Really? —he asked—. It turns you on to watch another man put his cock in your wife in front of you?

—More than I should admit —Esteban replied, laughing at his own confession—. Imagining her sucking another cock, her face covered in someone else’s semen. It destroys me.

There was a long silence. Carolina looked from one man to the other, her heart pounding in her throat and her cunt beginning to wet beneath her dress. Marcelo was the one who broke the silence.

—Then I have something to tell you —he said slowly—. It’s already happened. More than once. And I wasn’t alone with her in Lima. There were three of us. We fucked her all night.

Esteban turned toward his wife. There was no fury on his face; there was something else, something Carolina had never seen in him: his eyes shining, the bulge showing through his trousers.

—Is it true? —he asked.

—It’s true —she admitted, her voice barely audible—. I couldn’t stop. I sucked all three of them. They fucked me in my cunt, my ass, and my mouth. They came on my face.

Esteban was silent for a moment. Then he let out a low, disbelieving laugh and ran a hand over his face. With the other, he squeezed his erection through his trousers without the slightest attempt to hide it.

—Then I don’t want you to stop —he said—. I want to watch. Now.

Marcelo didn’t wait for a second invitation. He stood, walked around the table, and yanked Carolina’s dress straps down. He left her tits bare in front of her husband. Esteban watched everything from his chair without moving, his eyes fixed on his wife, his hand now openly inside his trousers.

—Take it out —Marcelo told Esteban, without stopping fondling Carolina’s tits—. Take out your cock and watch.

Esteban obeyed. He pulled it out and began masturbating slowly. After months of lying, Carolina felt a strange relief at no longer doing so, and a new wetness at knowing both men were watching her.

They sat her on the edge of the table, between the plates. Marcelo spread her legs, tore off her panties with his teeth, and sank into her in one thrust. Esteban came closer only to watch from nearby, to see her face when she moaned, to see another man’s cock sink into his wife’s cunt, sliding in and out shiny with her juices.

—Look at her —Marcelo said without stopping—. Look how she takes it. This is what you wanted to see.

—Yes —Esteban murmured, stroking himself faster—. Fuck her. Fuck her hard.

Carolina reached out and grabbed her husband’s cock. She brought it to her mouth without stopping Marcelo from fucking her. The two men looked at each other over her, conspirators, and Esteban began moving too, fucking her mouth while the other fucked her cunt. Carolina closed her eyes and let herself go. She felt both of them at once, front and back, her husband’s cock in her throat and her lover’s buried deep in her cunt. She came like that, with both men inside her, moaning against Esteban’s cock.

They put her on the floor, on the living-room rug. They fucked her in turns, then together: Marcelo below, Esteban above, one in each hole. Esteban, who had never touched his wife’s ass in his life, slipped inside her from behind with a tender awkwardness, and she helped him, moving for him, teaching him how. They came almost simultaneously, inside her, one in each hole, and Carolina felt the double stream filling her as though they had signed something over to her.

At some point Esteban stopped being a spectator. And Carolina, between the two of them, understood that that night of confessions had not broken their marriage: it had turned it into something else, something none of the three had planned and none of them wanted to give up.

—And now what? —she asked when the three of them had caught their breath, sprawled on the floor, her in the middle, her legs still spread and semen running down her thighs.

Esteban brushed a strand of hair stuck to her forehead aside and kissed her as he hadn’t kissed her in years, unconcerned by the taste of another man in her mouth.

—Now we stop pretending —he said—. All three of us.

Carolina closed her eyes. For the first time in a long while, there was nothing to hide. And that, she discovered, was the most exciting thing of all.