The Bet the Old Man from Down the Hall Made Over My Wife

I never answer the phone at three in the morning. It’s a rule I imposed on myself years ago, when I realized that a psychologist needs a firm boundary between the office and his own bed. But that night, when my cell phone vibrated on the nightstand and I saw the name on the screen, I knew it was Marcos. And I knew that if I didn’t answer, I wouldn’t sleep again, trying to guess what had happened.

I picked up.

—Tell me.

—Don Adrián… —his voice sounded breathless, as if he’d spent an hour rehearsing that first word.

—Good evening, Marcos. Something fairly serious must have happened for you to call me at this hour.

—You’re right, and I’m terribly sorry. But I need to tell someone, and you’re the only person who knows about this. It happened barely an hour ago, and I couldn’t stop myself from falling in the lowest and most humiliating way you can imagine.

—All right. Breathe and tell me.

I heard him draw breath on the other end of the line, that loaded silence that comes before shameful confessions.

—You know that, ever since the elevator incident, something inside me broke. That man, when he saw the state I was in, understood perfectly what was going on between my wife and him. When he passed close to me, he watched me, analyzed me, sized me up from head to toe. I felt his gaze like a slab weighing me down, making me smaller. I lowered my eyes, and in that instant he took control. I felt it physically, as if he tore it out of my hands.

—And your wife?

—Barbara was silent all evening, nervous, agitated. She didn’t dare say a word, but she didn’t need to. I knew she’d become aroused in a way I’d never seen before. Her hard nipples showed through her blouse, her cheeks were flushed, and every time she sat down she crossed her legs tightly, as if trying to crush a pulse between her thighs. Probably, when she noticed how hard I was, she understood my true nature better than I did myself. And I felt humiliated, reduced to a rag doll. The strange thing is that, faced with that sensation, I felt more alive than ever. I needed another release. I needed something new to happen.

—And it did.

—We were taking the elevator up to our apartment. When we reached the fourth floor, just as Barbara and I set foot on the landing, I heard a voice from the neighbor’s half-open door.

—“Marcos. Come downstairs.”

—My wife and I looked at each other. Two, three long seconds, silently asking ourselves what the old man could want. Her expression was devastated; she was begging me with her eyes not to go down, not to keep following that path. I held her gaze, turned around, and went down the stairs. I heard our front door close behind me as I approached the landing where Heriberto was waiting for me.

—Tell me what he said.

—“I was waiting for you. Come in; you and I need to talk.” He stepped aside and forced me to brush against him as I entered. I smelled him, felt the heat of his body, the brush of his belly against my arm. And I also noticed, out of the corner of my eye, the thick bulge straining his trousers, pressed against my hip as I passed. Then he stopped me dead: “Don’t go any farther.” And he left me standing in the doorway of a home I’d never entered and which he was now refusing me entry to.

***

—And then?

—He came so close I could feel his breath. He smelled of old tobacco, of antique furniture wood. He said to me: “I have a theory. The other night, when Barbara was carrying the trash down the stairs, I thought I heard a door open. I think it was you, because you saw that your wife was taking a long time. And I think you saw, or at least heard, what happened between us. Am I wrong?”

—What did you say?

—I told him it was possible. He smiled and asked: “Would you like to know exactly what happened? How I fondled your wife’s cunt while you trembled behind the door?” And, Don Adrián, at that instant that tingling returned in my stomach, moving down and concentrating below. I got hard again, so hard my cock throbbed inside my trousers. He noticed. He saw my breathing, lowered his eyes toward my crotch, and knew I’d given myself away.

—He read you like an open book.

—“It’s obvious you’re dying to know,” he said, “but I want you to ask me.” And I did. “Please,” I said, “tell me what happened on your landing.” He nodded slowly, like a man who had just won something. “That’s better. But first answer me something else, although I already know the answer: would you have liked something to happen? For me to open her cunt in front of you and fuck her right there?”

—And what did you feel while he was asking you that?

—I wanted to resist. I clenched my teeth, trying to silence what my mind was already screaming. But in the end, only one word came out: “Yes.”

As I listened, I began to understand Marcos’s true nature. That man was a pure voyeur, a willing cuckold in the making, someone who burned at the fantasy of watching another man take his wife. I let him continue.

—Heriberto grew serious. “You’ve earned the right to hear it. But first I want you to know something. I’m going to fuck Barbara. I’m going to bury my cock deep in her cunt and leave no corner of her un-stretched. Your wife is going to end up spread-legged beneath me, dripping, with my cum running down her thighs, and from that day on she’ll be someone else. And when that happens, I’ll be the owner of this house. Consider it a bet. When I win it, you’ll tell me, with your own mouth, that you’re going to be my servant.”

—A bet with the dignity of your marriage on the table.

—I told him that, knowing my wife, I didn’t believe he’d manage it, but that if it happened, I’d honor the bet. And the strangest thing, Don Adrián, is that I didn’t even believe my own answer. I not only no longer trusted myself; I no longer trusted her or her will either, after what I’d seen in the elevator.

—I understand. Did he notice?

—Of course he noticed. “You trust your wife too much and me too little,” he told me. “That’s normal. Everything will change the day you see her spread her legs for her new male, when you hear her moan like a bitch in heat with my cock buried up to her womb. So, do we have a deal? When I break that little wildcat of yours, you’re part of the package too, and you’ll become mine as well.” And I told him, stammering: “A-agreed.”

***

—Marcos, what did you feel when you sealed that deal?

—His hand. He slapped his hand against mine to seal it, a rough, callused hand, and brought it to his belly so I would place mine there. He forced me to leave it still for a moment, then lowered it a few inches farther, until my fingertips brushed the base of the bulge lifting his trousers. I should be ashamed to say it, but it turned me on enormously. A moan escaped me, and he heard it. Especially the idea that this man might be capable of breaking through my wife’s shell. Because Barbara, Don Adrián, is the most lifeless person I know. No imagination, no initiative, not a drop of desire. Fucking her is like hugging a warm pillow: she barely moves, barely moans, closes her eyes, and waits for it to be over. I couldn’t understand how that old man was going to kindle something I’d never managed to ignite.

—That’s more common than you think, Marcos. People settle into the routine of marriage and, without realizing it, gradually go dim, like a flame no one tends. Then someone appears who can rekindle it in a matter of seconds. The question is whether that man has found a way to light your wife’s flame.

—That’s exactly what he said. And when he talked about her that way, when he insulted her, degraded her, called her a whore and said he was going to turn her into his sow, he came alive. I could hear it in his voice, in his breathing. He became ferociously aroused. And, to my shame, I wanted to play that game with him.

—Listen to me carefully. If he attracts you that much, enter the game and do whatever he orders. That guy is probably just as heterosexual as you are. But sexual humiliation doesn’t care about orientation. You may find yourself forced to suck his cock, swallow his load, or clean with your tongue whatever he leaves inside your wife’s cunt. Unless he prefers to order her to do it.

I heard a guttural sound on the other end of the phone. I know that sound. It meant Marcos was completely aroused, that at that moment I had him in the palm of my hand and could ask him for anything.

—How did things continue on the landing? —I asked him—. Because I imagine it didn’t end with the bet.

—No. When I agreed, he told me he already had a plan for starting with Barbara. He described the elevator incident in such detail that it churned my stomach. “Just as you spied on me out of the corner of your eye,” he said, “while I slipped my hand under your wife’s skirt and ran it up her thigh until I found her soaked panties, so little by little I’ll make her mine. I pulled the elastic aside with two fingers and rubbed her clitoris slowly, until her knees buckled. She was wet as a fountain, Marcos. Her juices were running down the inside of her thigh. While I pressed her neck against the wall of that elevator with one hand, with the other I sank two fingers into her cunt and twisted them around inside her, and she barely resisted, knowing you were behind her, guessing you wouldn’t dare turn around. She was so wet that my fingers went in and out with a wet sound you heard too, even though you pretended not to. At that moment she understood what kind of passive husband she had. And so, watching you lower your head, she’ll gradually give herself to me.”

—He was describing your own humiliation as part of the plan.

—Exactly. And I listened with my mouth dry. Then I asked him what had happened on his landing, what I’d only been able to guess from my doorway. He looked at me and said: “On the landing, what had to happen happened. Your wife saw for the first time what a real man’s cock looks like. I lowered the zipper of my trousers, grabbed her wrist, and put her hand on my cock through my underwear. Her eyes went wide when she felt the thickness. I told her to take it out, and she did. She crouched a little, trembling, and held me in her hand for quite a while, looking at it up close, weighing it, afraid to squeeze. At last she understood what it meant to have something like that between her fingers, something that moved by itself, that throbbed in her palm. I told her to lick her lips and bring her mouth closer. She was one finger’s breadth away from putting it in when your door opened.”

—And that man, Marcos, had already understood exactly what aroused you.

—Yes. He understood completely. That’s why he treated me the way he did. He told me: “While I tell you about it, you’re going to do whatever I order.” I said all right. And then he said: “Take it out.” I froze, silent. He repeated it with a sharp shout: “Take my cock out now, goddammit!”

—And did you?

—I lowered his zipper with trembling hands. I slipped my hand inside his trousers, then inside his underwear, and there it was. I felt that hot, heavy bar of flesh, hard and throbbing against my fingers. I pulled it out into the open and my heart nearly stopped. It was enormous, Don Adrián. Thick, dark, with a purple, gleaming glans and a thick drop appearing at the tip. Two heavy balls hung beneath it, wrinkled and taut. I saw myself freeing it, looking at it up close as if I’d never seen a cock in my life. And in truth, I hadn’t. Mine was a little thing next to that. “Do you like what you see?” he asked me. I could only manage to say, “Yes.” And he smiled. “That’s what your wife said when I showed it to her. I ordered her to take it out, just as I ordered you. And she obeyed without a word. Her hand went by itself to the base and squeezed it. She imagined what it would feel like entering her cunt, breaking her open inside, reaching somewhere no one had ever reached before. But then your door opened and she pulled away. I caught her by the hair, forced her to bend down for another second, pressed it against her lips, and I only just missed it.”

***

—“Now I understand everything,” I told him —Marcos continued—. And he cut me off: “There’s something you still don’t understand. I didn’t get to finish. I’ve had swollen balls ever since, waiting for her. And now you’re going to give me relief. Start. Jack me off.”

—Did you refuse?

—At first, yes. I pulled my hand away and took half a step back. But a couple of sharp, humiliating slaps across the face made it clear what disobeying would cost. My cheek burned, tears sprang to my eyes, and yet I got even harder. So I grabbed his cock again and started moving my hand. Slowly. The skin slid up and down over that hard flesh, uncovering the gleaming glans and covering it again. That thick, veined cock had me hypnotized. I squeezed a little harder and felt it throb in my fist, felt the thick vein beating against my fingers. I had never touched another cock in my life, only my own, and there I was, with an old man’s cock inside my hand, jerking it as if I’d been doing it all my life. He guided me. “Tighter. Touch my balls with your other hand. That’s it. Very good, asshole, very good.” I looked up and saw him watching me, mouth open, enjoying my submission. With his thumb he spread the thick drop that emerged from the tip over the entire glans, and it slid more easily, making a sticky sound each time my fist moved up and down. I applied more pressure, more rhythm, feeling his whole body tense, feeling his balls draw up in my other hand, and, to my own shame, I was enjoying it. I was drooling at the thought of putting it in my mouth. My tongue kept slipping between my lips.

—That’s a very honest confession, Marcos. Especially admitting that you enjoyed it.

—He warned me he was going to come. “I’m cumming, asshole, keep going, don’t stop.” I was afraid he’d force me to do more, to open my mouth and swallow his entire load. I didn’t feel ready for that. But I think he was too clever to push things that far so soon. He only warned me, then grabbed my wrist to set the pace, faster, harder, until I saw his face contract, his mouth open, an animal growl coming from his throat. He started to come. And I just watched him come. I’d never seen a man release so much. The first jet splashed onto my hand, hot, thick, dense, and three or four more followed, one after another, falling between my fingers, running down my wrist, spattering my trousers. His cock kept throbbing in my fist, spitting semen in spurts, and I didn’t stop jerking it, milking him until the last drop, watching a white bead emerge from the tip and slide over his glans. Something inside me broke, as if everything I’d been taught about what a man should be had suddenly collapsed. He brought his stained hand to my nose and told me: “Smell it. This is the scent of the man who’s going to fuck your wife.” And I smelled it. And, with his sex still throbbing and exhausted in my hand, dripping, my fingers sticky and the smell of his come filling my nose, I felt complete. I felt happy to have given pleasure to the man I’d once hated, the man who had seemed repulsive and overbearing to me. Before he let me go, he forced me to lick one finger. Just one. So I would know what it tasted like. And I swallowed it without complaint.

—It’s brave to acknowledge a part of yourself you’ve only just discovered. That, believe me, has a dignity of its own.

—Don Adrián… as a psychologist, what do you recommend? How do I deal with this?

—If I’m being honest, in your place I’d let myself go. You’re experiencing a mixture of emotions that are completely new to you. And there’s an old, inherited part of you insisting that what you feel is sick. Perhaps you should stop fighting it and see where all this takes you. In the worst case, what could happen? Your wife might discover ten orgasms she’s never had, learn how to come screaming with a real cock inside her? Don’t give those prejudices so much importance.

—All right. I’ll take your advice. I won’t overthink it. Have a good night, and sorry to bother you.

And that was where the call ended. Another step in Marcos’s discovery, another crack opened by that stranger's cock between his hands. I hung up the phone, stared at the ceiling in the darkness, and knew, with an uneasy calm, that I intended to profit from all this too.