My wife fulfilled her fantasy with my friend that night

The air coming in through the windows still smelled of the Ejea festivities. Behind us we left the peñas, the charangas, and that treacherous taste of kalimotxo we had been drinking until we lost count. Lorena was in the back, laughing at nothing, with flushed cheeks and that mischievous-girl sparkle I knew so well.

Diego drove relaxed, commenting on work things, until in the middle of the darkness on the main road, pink and blue neon lights began to stain the asphalt. It was one of those roadside clubs, an oasis of sin planted among the Aragonese fields.

—Bet you don’t dare go in? —he said jokingly, glancing at the rearview mirror.

Lorena sat up, resting her elbows on our seats. The neckline of her white T-shirt, damp from the heat of the fair, fell open, revealing the beginning of her breasts.

—Me? In a place like that? I’ve never even set foot in one —she said with a defiant little smile.

—Come on, Lorena —I goaded her, turning to look at her—. With your husband and a trusted friend, what’s going to happen to you? It’s just curiosity… or maybe you’re scared of what you might see in there.

That was the magic word: fear. Lorena is afraid of nothing when alcohol is running through her veins and I’m by her side.

—Stop the car, Diego! —she exclaimed between laughs—. Let’s see what’s going on.

Diego braked with a screech and pulled into the gravel parking lot. As we walked toward the door, I felt an exciting pressure in my chest. I knew that atmosphere of paid sex and lush women was going to send my wife’s desire soaring. She, the proper wife, the ordinary girl, was about to cross the threshold of vice on the arm of two men.

Inside, the smell of tobacco, cheap perfume, and whiskey hit us full force. The light was scarce, barely broken by the flashes from the dance floor. Lorena clung to me, intimidated at first, but I could feel her fingers squeezing my arm. She was excited. Very excited.

We ordered drinks and sat down on some worn vinyl sofas. Diego and I flanked Lorena, who was taking in every detail with her eyes wide open. Some of the girls looked at us sidelong, but seeing my wife between us, with her fresh, ordinary-woman feel, they preferred to keep their distance.

At one point she got up to go to the restroom. Diego and I followed the sway of her hips with our eyes. He took a hard swig of his whiskey without saying a word, but his breathing had grown heavier. When she came back, she wasn’t alone: she was chatting with one of the club girls, a brunette with generous curves and a weary look.

—I told her you’re my husband —she said to me— and that Diego is a coworker of yours from the company.

The girl, bold as brass, leaned toward Diego, letting her neckline brush his shoulder.

—And wouldn’t the coworker like to come upstairs with me for a bit while the married people finish their drinks? —she purred.

Diego looked her up and down, but his eyes soon went back to Lorena, who was watching him with a filthy curiosity, licking her lips. The rejection was immediate.

—No, thanks —he said, his voice a little dry—. We’re leaving.

Lorena seemed delighted: the club girl hadn’t been able to compete with her. We went out to the parking lot and got back in the car to resume the road toward Zaragoza.

***

The fresh air did nothing to cool what had been lit inside. The silence in the cabin wasn’t awkward: it was a charged silence, thick like the smoke from the place we’d left behind.

—Diego… —she said, breaking it, with that voice made deeper by alcohol and excitement—. Why did you say no to that girl? She was gorgeous.

Diego gripped the steering wheel tighter. I watched him sidelong from the passenger seat: his knuckles were white.

—I didn’t feel like some random stranger —he replied without taking his eyes off the road—. I prefer real women.

I smiled in the dark. The game had begun. The dare had worked, and Diego had stopped seeing my wife only as his coworker’s partner. Now she had become his target.

—Oh, yeah? —she shot back, leaning forward and invading the space between the seats—. Honey, do I do more for you than the club girls? —she asked me.

The car swerved slightly. Diego was losing his composure. Instead of continuing straight toward Zaragoza, he decisively turned the wheel and took a side exit. The perfect asphalt gave way to a narrow road lined with vineyards that looked like shadows. We crossed one or two sleeping villages, but he didn’t stop.

—Where are you taking us? —I asked, though I already knew he was taking us straight to the heart of the fantasy.

—To Valdecuevas —he replied, his eyes fixed on the rising road—. It’s an abandoned village. I want to show you something.

—An abandoned village? —she repeated in a thin voice—. There won’t be anyone there, right?

—No one, Lorena. Just the three of us —he said, and this time his voice didn’t tremble.

***

The car rattled along a dirt track. The headlights illuminated collapsed stone facades, windows like empty sockets, and streets overrun by weeds. The silence of Valdecuevas was sepulchral. Diego stopped the engine near the old square and the darkness swallowed the car at once.

I turned to look at Lorena. In the dim light, her white T-shirt seemed to glow. She had let her hair down and was breathing fast, in short bursts. The idea of being in a dead place, where no one could hear us, was driving her crazy.

I looked at her and saw in her eyes that we were thinking the same thing: that fantasy of our intimacy, those nights when I whispered in her ear about another man taking her with my permission. And now the fantasy had a name. It was called Diego.

—I know what you’re thinking, baby —I told her very softly, almost a whisper Diego could hear too—. What I used to say in your ear… that tonight there’d be no need to imagine anything.

Lorena let out a stifled moan and bit her lip, fixing her eyes on the back of Diego’s neck. He was still motionless, but I knew he was listening to every word.

—Diego —I said, putting a hand on his shoulder—, I’m going to tell you something in confidence, but it doesn’t leave this car. Lorena loves it when I tell her fantasies where another man enjoys her. Sometimes we play at you, or anyone from the office, climbing into our bed and taking her while I watch.

Diego swallowed. The sound was clear in the village’s silence. Slowly, he let go of the wheel and turned around, toward where my wife was waiting with her legs slightly apart and her breathing ragged.

—Is that true, Lorena? —he asked, with a voice that was pure instinct.

—I’m a bit embarrassed right now… —she answered, reaching for my hand—. But sometimes I don’t just want to imagine it. Sometimes I want to try it.

And then she leaned back, pulling her shirt up until her breasts were bare, challenging him in the half-dark.

—I’m really hot too —she said in a hoarse voice—. I’m going topless, like at the beach. Do you like my tits, Diego?

I settled myself in the passenger seat, feeling my excitement shoot up. I was about to watch my wife give herself to my coworker in the loneliest corner of the world.

Diego stood petrified, his gaze fixed on Lorena’s brown skin. He stretched out a hand, hesitating for a second, until his fingers brushed almost fearfully against the edge of the seat.

—They’re… they’re beautiful —he managed to say, his gaze dropping from her eyes to her chest.

She let out a nervous little laugh, the kind that mixes embarrassment and pure excitement. She squeezed my hand, looking for my approval, and I gave it back by giving her the green light.

—Don’t hold back, Diego —I said with a calm that contrasted with my pulse—. Touch them. See if they’re as soft as they look.

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hand wrapped around one of Lorena’s breasts. She arched her back and let out a long sigh as her nipples stood taut under my coworker’s eager touch.

—God, Diego —she exclaimed—. Your hands are burning up.

At that moment she was no longer the proper teacher from Zaragoza or the perfect wife; she was the woman of our fantasies. She unbuttoned her shorts and looked at him with total defiance.

—Do you know what else I’m imagining? —she whispered, while her free hand slid down her belly—. That tonight you’re not going to be a gentleman. That you’re going to treat me like one of those club girls, but with a friend’s trust… and that nothing that happens here will ever come out of your mouth. It’ll be our secret.

Diego let go of the wheel and, with a quick movement, climbed into the back seat. The car rocked under his weight. I turned fully in the passenger seat, determined not to miss a single detail.

***

The back space became small, suffocating, loaded with a desire that had been building for months in the office. Diego wasted no time: one hand urgently went down to the open zipper of Lorena’s shorts; the other buried itself in her hair to pull her mouth to his. I was the guest of honor, and this was beyond anything we had imagined at home.

—Oh, yes… Diego —she moaned when his hand sank under her underwear—. Like that… don’t stop.

Lorena writhed, seeking the contact of that чужд skin, enjoying the roughness of a man who was not her husband but had my full permission. Diego kissed her neck while she searched for my gaze.

—Look at what he’s doing to me, Marcos —she whispered—. Look what your friend is doing to me.

—You sure you don’t mind, man? —he asked, panting, though his hand kept working furiously between my wife’s legs.

—Not only do I not mind —I replied, settling in to watch better—. I love it. I want you to drive her wild. I want her to get home thoroughly satisfied.

That set things in motion. Diego yanked her shorts off with one decisive tug and left her completely exposed. She spread her legs as wide as she could, offering herself without reserve as the silence of the village filled with the scent of our bodies.

With a determination that left me stunned, Lorena signaled for him to get out of the car. He obeyed and stood by the open door. She slid to the edge of the seat, put her legs outside, and, without hesitation, took him in her mouth. He was firm, throbbing. I saw her lean forward and part her lips to take him, and the sound broke the sepulchral silence of Valdecuevas.

—God, Lorena —Diego exclaimed, throwing his head back and bracing his hands on the car roof so he wouldn’t collapse.

She savored every inch, giving herself over with a hunger I had never seen in her. Watching my wife, the one with the sweet eyes, turned into that insatiable lover just inches from me was the best gift those festivities could have given us. She looked up for a second, glassy-eyed, still not letting go, as if telling me without words: look at what I’m doing, look how much I’m enjoying this.

Diego was at the limit. His fingers sank into her hair, guiding the rhythm of her mouth, while his hips jerked involuntarily.

—I’m coming, Lorena… I’m coming հիմա! —he moaned, his voice breaking and his legs trembling.

She, far from pulling away, dug her hands in and sucked harder, determined not to let anything escape. I saw his body tense in one final spasm and, after a guttural growl, he emptied himself. Lorena took it all with a naturalness that left me speechless, savoring the prize of that dare that had started between laughs in Ejea.

When he pulled away, panting against the door frame, she licked her lips slowly, provocatively, and looked at me through the window.

—Did you like it, baby? —she asked in a thin voice—. Because I’m not finished yet… and Diego still has some strength left.

***

I got out of the car. The night air was pure, but the smell of sex coming through the open door was far more intoxicating. Diego looked at me, catching his breath, with a new respect in his eyes.

—Man… I don’t even know what to say —he stammered as he pulled his pants up halfway.

—Don’t say anything. Go back there with her —I told him, walking around the car to take the driver’s seat—. We’re going to finish what we started. She still hasn’t come.

Diego sat in the back seat, his back against the seatback and his legs apart, feet on the gravel. Lorena, still topless, took off the rest of her shorts and, breathing in short bursts, positioned herself with her back to him. With an agility that alcohol had made smoother, she sat on top of him, guiding him until she felt him enter her in one hard thrust.

—That’s it, Diego… —she whispered as she took him all the way in. She dropped onto him with a moan that echoed across the sleeping valley.

That was when I entered the scene. Instead of watching from outside, I stood in the opening of the open door, right in front of her face. She, mounted on Diego, was at the perfect height, leaning a little toward me.

The image was brutal: me standing there, feeling the cool air on my skin, while my wife went rhythmically up and down on my coworker and looked me straight in the eyes. The three of us formed a single block of flesh and desire. Diego, behind her, gripped her by the waist and thrust her upward hard; Lorena, in the middle, rode him while seeking with her mouth what I offered her just inches away.

—Fuck, Marcos… what a woman you’ve got —Diego panted from behind, eyes rolling back—. Never let her get away.

I buried my fingers in her hair, guiding her face toward me. She alternated her gaze between Diego and me, enjoying being the link between her husband and her one-night lover. The sound of bodies crashing together mixed with the sound of her surrender, a symphony only the ruins of Valdecuevas could hear.

Just when I felt my release about to come and Diego was growling behind her, Lorena let out a moan unlike any of the others. Her hands dug into my thighs, her nails sinking into my skin.

—I’m coming… I’m coming now, Marcos! —she cried, pulling away for a second to take a breath—. Diego, don’t stop, keep going… yes, like that, like that!

She began having a series of violent spasms. Her back arched like a taut bow under the moonlight and her whole body shook over my coworker’s lap. It was a long orgasm, the kind that leaves her trembling.

That vibration was decisive. Diego, feeling her shudder in the middle of her climax, let out a guttural growl and emptied himself inside her. Almost at the same time I exploded too, spilling between her lips and her chest. She remained frozen for a few seconds, trembling between the two of us, while the three of us panted, joined by sweat and the silence of the ruins.

Lorena let herself fall onto Diego’s chest, with a smile of absolute victory, and looked at me mischievously.

—Now yes… —she whispered, voice broken—. Now we can go home.

***

We headed back down the road. The car’s silence was now one of peace and fulfilled desire, and as the lights of Zaragoza appeared on the horizon I drove with a smile. The city was asleep when we stopped in front of our building. We said goodbye to Diego with a handshake charged with a secret, with that silent complicity of those who have shared something forbidden in the shadows.

As soon as we crossed the threshold of the bedroom, Lorena, without saying a word, stripped completely naked and lay on her back on our bed, opening her legs with a naturalness that made my pulse race again.

—Marcos… —she whispered, looking at me with those eyes that were still shining—. Come here. I want you to finish what he started.

I knelt between her legs. There it was, the trace of the night, mixed with her own wetness: the trophy of everything we had lived through. I moved in slowly and ran my tongue over her, claiming my territory in the sweetest and filthiest way possible, while she arched her back and moaned softly. When I finished, she pulled me toward her, wrapping her arms and legs around me.

—Thank you, baby —she told me in my ear before falling deeply asleep—. I always thought you’d get mad if we made our fantasy real. Next year… we’re going back to Ejea.

And as I held her, I knew that ending —her satisfied inside and out, the three of us bound by a secret— was the perfect finish to a night no fireworks could have topped.