My New Flatmate Arrived With Her Husband

My next target appeared by sheer chance. I was filing old case folders on the floor everyone called “the retirement home,” that corner of the company where they parked the people who were about to retire. I went up to hand-deliver a report, and as I crossed the corridor, I saw her.

She was a woman who stopped time. Brunette, long hair pulled back in a messy bun, gray eyes, and dark circles that in anyone else would have been a flaw and in her were a promise. Wide hips, a slender body, a barely hinted smile that lodged itself somewhere inside you. I had never seen her before.

I didn’t have time to introduce myself. A dull thud, a scream, and she was on the floor between two filing cabinets, a thread of blood running down her forehead. I picked her up in my arms — she weighed less than she looked — and set her in an armchair until the ambulance arrived.

—She’s not sick —a coworker explained to me—. Three years taking care of her husband, day and night. He died nine months ago and ever since then she hasn’t lifted her head.

Another lowered her voice: —So much mourning, and the guy treated her terribly. She always came in wearing long sleeves to hide the marks.

I mentally crossed her off my list. That woman wasn’t for games.

***

Back in my office, a note: “Lorena called you.” I called her back. Her voice, usually pure roughness, sounded syrupy that afternoon.

—Iván, darling —she purred—, I want to move out of where I live, the atmosphere is unbearable. You’ve got a huge apartment… don’t you have a room to spare? We can split the expenses.

I said yes before she finished the sentence. Lorena had been flirting with me in the hallways for months, and I had just bought a brand-new stash of toys that I was dying to break in with her.

Two days later she came to get the keys. I had prepared a surprise. I got home after three; she had already set the table, dressed in something as comfortable as it was provocative. And then I counted the plates. Three.

—Meet my husband, Mauro —she said through clenched teeth, looking at me with the expression of someone apologizing for a con—. He’ll be living here too, he’s taken a sabbatical.

In the kitchen, alone, I leaned over her ear.

—My revenge is going to be slow, and you’ll pay for it dearly —I whispered.

—Don’t you dare —she hissed, furious so he wouldn’t hear—. It’s temporary. As soon as we find somewhere else, we’re leaving.

***

The first week was enough for me to understand her. Mauro was friendlier than I’d expected, but he was made of complexes and badly concealed jealousy. Lorena liked to show herself off, and at night, through the wall, I could hear their frustrated encounters: her complaints, her half-finished sighs, while he came almost immediately and shouted that he was going to get her pregnant.

One Friday Mauro had to travel to his hometown and wanted to take Lorena with him. She made excuses about work and, to calm him down, announced that a friend would come over for dinner. I was already planning my own escape when the doorbell rang.

I opened it. It was the woman from the fainting spell.

—I think we already know each other —she said with a half smile—. I’m Vera. And you must be Iván.

She was radiant. Her hair down, her eyes lined with a subtle stroke, her lips pink. The dark circles were still there, but now they were downright sexy. A denim skirt clung to perfect legs and the top revealed a deep cleavage. She thanked me for catching her when she fainted. It turned out Lorena and she knew each other from some courses.

There was dinner, drinks, and a tension that floated in the air like smoke. I went to the kitchen to make some more drinks and overheard them whispering.

—A young, charming guy —said Vera—. It’s been a long time since I laughed that much.

—Don’t get too comfortable —Lorena replied—. Iván has a very dirty mind. He’s a savage. The first one who ever gave me a spanking without asking permission.

From that moment on, Vera started looking at me differently, studying me. And Lorena got jealous.

***

It got very late. I offered to take Vera home. Lorena didn’t like it, but she swallowed it when I said I’d keep partying afterward. Vera invited me to one last drink in her living room.

While she poured, I looked through the photos: she appeared with a nondescript-looking man. She showed me the house, old but tastefully renovated, all in light tones. Everything fit except for a rustic dark-wood wardrobe in the master bedroom. A beautiful piece, out of place. The key was in the lock.

I couldn’t help myself. I turned it.

—No! —she cried.

Too late. The door opened and revealed an arsenal: crops of various thicknesses, clips, a wooden paddle, silk ropes, padded handcuffs. A much more complete collection than mine.

I said nothing. We went back to the living room. She fell silent, lost.

—Thanks for the drink —I said, and she walked me to the door.

Before leaving I turned and looked her in the eyes. She dropped her gaze. I knew it was my moment.

I traced the line of her jaw with the back of my fingers. She didn’t pull away. On the contrary, she rested her cheek in my palm like a cat, though her eyes were still full of that exciting fear that made her even more desirable.

—You don’t have to be afraid of me, Vera —I whispered against her ear—. I think you and I are going to understand each other very well.

***

I slammed the door shut with my foot. I took her back to the sofa and gently pushed her down to lie back. I knelt at her feet and slowly ran my hands up her calves, her knees, the hem of her skirt.

—That wardrobe hides a lot of secrets, doesn’t it? —I said—. Tell me, who taught you to need that?

—I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.

—You’re lying. And that turns me on. It also tells me you need someone who knows how to use those toys better than your dead husband ever did.

I yanked her skirt open and discovered she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I parted her with my thumbs and lowered my tongue to her clit, slowly, savoring every tremor. She arched her back and clutched my hair.

—Like that… please, don’t stop.

I made her come twice with my mouth before standing up. I entered her in one thrust. She screamed, a mixture of surprise and pleasure, and I took her with all the rage I’d been building for days. I turned her over, put her on all fours, gripped her hips.

—This is what you were missing, isn’t it? —I hissed in her ear.

—Yes! It’s this! Don’t stop!

I came with a roar and we stayed still for a moment, panting. Then I sat down on the sofa and watched her pull herself together with trembling hands.

—This wasn’t a whim, Vera —I told her as I buttoned myself up—. It’s only the beginning.

She nodded, defeated, but deep in her gaze there was a spark of defiance that promised whole nights.

***

I got back to my apartment in the middle of the night. The scene that greeted me was powder keg ready to ignite. Lorena was standing in the living room, arms crossed, a white T-shirt so thin it left nothing to the imagination. Her stare was a dagger.

—Where were you? —her voice was sweet venom—. I’ve been calling Vera all night and she’s not answering.

I took off my jacket slowly, letting the smell of another woman speak for me.

—She was having a rough time. I took her home, calmed her down.

The worried-friend excuse shattered on her face. What was left was black jealousy, thick, almost tangible.

—You calmed her down? —she laughed without humor—. You took advantage of her, asshole. She’s vulnerable and you’re on her like a dog.

I leaned against the counter and looked her up and down.

—And if I did, what then? Someone had to remind her what a real man is. And she loved it.

That was the spark. She took a step toward me, fists clenched.

—You’re a pig! You used her…

—I made her feel alive —I cut in, coming closer until I was almost touching her—. Something you don’t know how to do. You only know how to lie and bring your husband home to me.

She spat at me. I didn’t move. I wiped myself slowly, never taking my eyes off her.

—You’re going to pay for this —she hissed.

—I’ll pay whatever you want —I answered in a low voice—. But it’ll be you who comes on your knees. You’re dying of curiosity to know what it’s like. You want me to split you open the way I just did with her.

I ran my tongue over my lips, slowly. Her gaze fell to my mouth and, for a second, hatred tinted itself with desire. I turned my back on her and went to my room.

—Whenever you want a real lesson, you know where I am —I said before closing the door—. But don’t come crying. Come begging.

***

It took less time than I thought. I heard the creak of the front door, the timid sound of her bare feet on the parquet. I didn’t turn around. The silence stretched on, heavy, loaded with her surrender.

—Iván… —her voice was a broken whisper.

I turned. She was in the doorway, outlined by the hallway light. She had taken off her T-shirt. She was completely naked. But her eyes belonged to a woman who has returned to her master’s hand.

—What do you want, Lorena? —I asked, rough.

She came closer slowly and knelt beside the bed, head bowed.

—I want you to do it. I want you to treat me like a slut.

—Then you’re going to have to earn it —I grabbed her hair and made her look at me—. Tell me how badly your husband fucks you. I’ve heard you every night.

Her cheeks flushed, but her breathing quickened. She liked being humiliated in the middle of her own frustration.

—It’s pathetic —she admitted, growing bolder—. He comes too quickly, before I feel anything. And he leaves me halfway there, rubbing myself on my own like a teenager.

—Then get on the bed —I ordered—. I’m going to give you what he’ll never be able to.

The first thrust was dry, brutal. She screamed, but it was pure triumph. I took her without mercy, every удар an insult to her husband, every deeper stroke a planted flag. I fucked her until her screams became sobs, until she surrendered in an orgasm that shook her whole body. I came inside her.

When I pulled out, she was left trembling on the bed. I looked at her and knew it was no longer a victory: it was total conquest. Now I had two. The wife and the widow. And the game was only just beginning.

***

Dawn found me awake. I heard the front-door lock, a suitcase being dragged. Mauro. He had come back at night.

I shook Lorena’s shoulder.

—Get up. Your husband is home.

Panic wiped the sleep from her face in an instant. She put on a tiny T-shirt and tiny panties and ran to the kitchen, where I was already making coffee. Mauro came out of the shower with a towel around his waist.

—Honey, I didn’t know you were awake! —he said, kissing her cheek—. I cut the trip short so I wouldn’t lose the day.

—Mauro! What… what a surprise —she answered, with a voice that was meant to sound normal and came out tense.

—Well, I’m going to take a shower too —I said, and he shut himself in the bathroom, calm, suspecting nothing.

As soon as the door closed, the atmosphere changed. I came up behind Lorena, slid my hands under the thin fabric. She exhaled and rested her head on my shoulder.

—Iván, no… he could come out at any moment.

—Shut up and bend over —I ordered in her ear—. Let’s remind you where you belong. Here and now.

I bent her against the cold marble of the counter, yanked her panties down, and entered her in one stroke. A muffled cry escaped her. I took her with blind fury, knowing that by day she belonged to another man, and that made it better.

—Do you feel it? —I hissed, tugging her hair—. Him in there showering, and me fucking his wife in his own kitchen.

—Yes! I’m yours! Only yours!

The bathroom door opened. Footsteps in the hallway.

—Lorena! Can you bring me a towel? —Mauro’s voice, getting closer and closer.

The panic in her eyes was sublime. I sped up.

—Tell him to wait —I ordered through clenched teeth.

—J-just a moment, darling! I’m busy! —she managed to say, her voice broken by the thrusts.

Mauro stopped. Had he noticed the tone? It didn’t matter. She was on the verge. I held her tight and that pushed her over: her body convulsed in a silent orgasm that left her breathless. I came inside her one last time.

I pulled out abruptly. She gathered herself as best she could and turned to face her husband, who was already in the doorway with a confused look on his face.

—Busy? Are you all right? You look… upset.

Lorena ran a hand through her hair with a weak smile.

—Yes, yes… I cut myself with a knife. Nothing serious.

Mauro came over, worried. I poured myself another coffee, back turned, smiling. While he tended to her, she was still dripping mine inside. Power, I discovered, is the most addictive drug there is.

***

The following days were a dance of increasingly reckless provocations. I lifted her onto the counter and buried my face between her legs while Mauro watched football a few feet away, oblivious to everything. I laid her on the dining table while he snored on the sofa. One morning, with him at the gym, I stood her up against the living-room window, in full daylight, facing the windows across the street.

—Maybe they’re watching you —I whispered—. Does that turn you on, exhibitionist?

—Yes! Let them see you fucking me!

The risk became our language. And I knew, while I heard her moan against the glass, that this wasn’t the end of anything. I had the wife surrendered and the widow waiting for me with her wardrobe full of secrets. The game, as I had promised her, was only just beginning.