The Gift My Lover Brought Her Husband

Lorena walks along the sidewalk with that firm stride she puts on when she knows she’s being watched. She reaches the front door of her house, rests her hand on the knob, and before turning it, she looks back toward the corner where my car is parked. She knows I’m watching her. She can sense my lust from here, and she barely smiles, a small private smile reserved only for moments like these.

She goes back home more cheerful than usual. She comes back with something he’s been waiting for for a long time, something he’s been craving for months and has never dared to ask for out loud. The ritual will repeat itself, as so many other times. She’ll tell Andrés how the meeting went, climb onto the bed, lift her skirt, and open her legs in front of him.

Then Andrés will bury his face between her thighs and slowly clean away every trace of what has been left inside. That routine turns him on like nothing else. He likes that his wife is my lover, my submissive, that I possess her and that he can then collect what I leave behind. He’s a compliant husband, happy because she awakens another man’s desire and because he gets the closing act. But today is different. Today we’ve taken a step there’s no going back from.

She said goodbye with a quick kiss so as not to waste a single second. She walks away with short, measured steps, crossing her feet slightly as she goes, the way models walk. The intention is clear: she doesn’t want to spill any of the treasure she carries with her. She squeezes her thighs together, keeping safe what she’s going to share with her husband.

Today wasn’t like other afternoons in my apartment. I drove to a covered parking garage a few blocks from her house. In the back seat I put her on all fours and took her without beating around the bush, without waiting for her pleasure to come first. The only goal was to finish inside her, hard, to leave her nicely filled. That’s what she asked me for: she wants Andrés to celebrate his birthday with a generous serving. And we made it happen. Lorena goes home with her cunt swollen, her lips shining, and her breathing still ragged.

Andrés knows I fuck his wife whenever I feel like it. I only have to dial his number and say I want her with me. His reaction is almost automatic. He comes, he obeys, he gives himself up without conditions. He does everything I suggest and enjoys every fantasy I come up with. She’s the one who decides how far it goes, but within that limit she holds nothing back.

Some time ago she confessed to me that her husband had known everything from the beginning. He knows that his wife goes crazy with pleasure every time she comes to see me, and he allows it. His pleasure is in hearing what she tells him and then cleaning her until every sign of what happened is erased. There’s something about that gesture, about being the last one, that satisfies him more than anything else.

In truth it was Andrés who pushed her toward me. He was the one who encouraged her to hint at herself to me, to seek my attention, to slip into my life without prejudice. He made the meetings easier, asked questions afterward, was dying for details. Lorena is in her forties, average height, slim, with curves in all the right places. She wears her hair short, light brown with highlights, and has huge green eyes that narrow when she concentrates. An attractive woman and a lover as hot as few others.

The three of us are comfortable with what we have. Andrés is a respectful husband, Lorena fulfills her double role of yielding herself to me and owning his pleasure, and I occupy the place they both need me to occupy. It works because no one lies and no one asks for more than the other can give.

From what she tells me, Andrés’s greatest satisfaction is seeing her come back happy, satisfied, well-fucked, with the mark of my having been there still fresh. She says he always waits impatiently, asks her to tell him how it went, and when he can’t take it anymore he buries his face between her legs and licks her everywhere, tracing every spot he suspects I was on just minutes earlier. That drives him insane. When he can’t take any more, she lets him and jerks him off until he comes. It’s a game full of kink that keeps them in balance.

Lorena is satisfied twice over. First with me, until she feels spent and broken by pleasure. Then at home, when her husband devours her as if he hadn’t eaten in days. She likes it when he lingers in the folds of her pussy and toys with her clit, laying out all his appetite until he leaves her clean and gleaming. She knows that by doing it he’s happy, and that many times those caresses end up ripping another orgasm from her.

***

Today we went a little further. She wanted me to take a photo with her phone, my cock in her mouth. Though she didn’t say it in so many words, she was thinking of showing it to Andrés as a birthday present. She knows how much he’s going to like it when he sees it.

—It’s just to have a keepsake —she said, trying to frame her face in the selfie.

—Here, let me —I answered, taking the phone from her hands.

I spread my legs wide and let her kneel between them. Instead of a photo, I started recording a video. On the screen Lorena appeared with her eyes blazing, running her tongue from bottom to top, lingering on every sensitive point. The recording captured how she took me all the way in, how she closed her lips and sucked slowly, how she dared go down to the base until tears sprang to her eyes and she had to pull away to breathe.

I recorded everything. Her movements, her looks, the little filthy things she likes to do with spit, that way she has of playing with it and then gathering it back up with her tongue.

She put on her most lustful face, as if she were acting in a movie. But I knew that wasn’t for her. It was for Andrés. I liked seeing her like that, surrendered, without a trace of the shyness with which he introduced her to me the first time. I wondered where that modest woman from then was hiding. In a few hours he would see everything she did. I hoped he enjoyed it as much as I did.

—Stop, stop —I told her when she began alternating hand and mouth with too much enthusiasm—. At this rate you’re going to make me come too soon.

I remembered the deal for today very well: fill her up, not waste a drop along the way. Lorena stopped abruptly, with a little pout of annoyance. She loves that part, the teasing, having me on the edge and pulling back to stretch the moment out. But she knew the plan as well as I did.

She turned around without me having to ask. She rested her chest against the seat, spread her knees, and with both hands opened herself for me. She was wet, ready, trembling a little with anticipation.

I positioned myself behind her, lined up the tip, and pushed just a little, just enough to feel how she took me in.

—I’m going to record how I fill you —I told her, spanking her ass with one hand while with the other I held the phone, framing the exact point where our bodies began to meet—. And I’m going to record how you do it yourself.

—Yes, yes —she gasped, leaning back to take me in slowly.

—That’s it. Push, move those hips, milk me dry. I want to hear how you sound when you’re banging against me.

I loved watching her rock back and forth, the way she made me slide in and out, the way she undulated her body looking for a deeper contact. She moaned softly, syncing herself to my rhythm, taking me where she wanted rather than the other way around.

—I’m going to fill you to the brim —I warned her, feeling everything beginning to gather at the base of my belly.

I put a hand on her hip, braced myself, and went all the way in. I started slowly, a gentle back-and-forth that gradually, without pause, kept gaining speed, becoming more and more intense. Our bodies collided, sweat-slick skin creaking with each thrust, and I could barely keep the phone in frame. But I had to. It had to be properly recorded.

—Give it all to me —she growled, knowing I was about to blow—. All of it.

A rough, hoarse sound escaped my chest when orgasm swept through me from top to bottom. One contraction, and another, and another. Today had been more abundant than ever. This time it came with a dedication.

I pulled out slowly, carefully, and stopped recording. I gave her one last affectionate slap.

—There you go. Clamp your legs shut so nothing gets lost. Go on, hurry, take it to him. And tell him this is my gift, for letting you be mine.

Lorena turned around, kissed me on the mouth, caught my tongue for a second. Without saying a word she straightened her skirt, opened the door, and got out of the car.

***

Lorena walks along the sidewalk with that firm stride she puts on when she knows she’s being watched. She reaches the front door of her house, rests her hand on the knob, and before turning it, looks back toward the corner where I’m parked. She knows I’m watching her. She senses my lust and smiles.

A little while later a message from her reaches me. She invites me to dinner. With her and with her husband.