The Three Service Guys Arrived Before My Husband

Mauricio left for work at seven, as he did every Monday, and promised to come back late. He had an audit at the office and, according to him, the boss wasn’t going to let anyone go before nine. Lucía saw him off at the door with a limp kiss, still in her robe, and went back to the kitchen to stare at the dead washing machine in the corner.

The appliance had stopped working on Saturday, in the middle of a wash cycle, with wet clothes inside and water on the floor. Lucía spent the whole Sunday cleaning and calling technical service. They told her they would come Monday in the late afternoon, between five and seven, and that there might be more than one technician because the model was old.

At four-thirty she started getting ready. She showered, put on a denim skirt above the knee and a white sleeveless T-shirt. Nothing eye-catching. It was house clothes, but she didn’t want to open the door in pajamas. Let them not think I’m a slob.

The doorbell rang three times in a row at five-fifteen. Lucía turned off the sink tap, dried her hands on the apron, and walked to the foyer. Through the peephole she saw three dark silhouettes against the hallway light, three blue coveralls and three toolboxes.

—Good afternoon, ma’am —the first one said as soon as he opened the door—. We’re here for the washing machine.

There were three of them. The one speaking was blond, short, with hands already stained with grease before he even started working. Behind him came a tall dark-haired man with broad shoulders, his hair tied back in a little ponytail and a tattoo climbing his neck. The third was the youngest, skinny as a rail, with a smile that had no business being where it was.

—Come in —Lucía said, stepping aside.

The blond went in first and brushed her chest with the toolbox. She stepped back half a pace. She thought it had been an accident and said nothing. The dark-haired man came up to her with the invoice.

—Sign here, ma’am. It’s for the service call.

He handed her a pen and, when she reached for it, he took the opportunity to hold her fingers a second too long. Lucía signed without looking up. She felt the man’s breath close to her, smelling of cheap mint.

The skinny one was already in the kitchen, crouched in front of the washing machine, fiddling with a wrench. He dropped it on the floor with a metallic clatter just as Lucía came in.

—Oops, sorry —he said, and when he picked it up he dragged his palm slowly up her calf, as if he’d brushed her by accident. His fingers climbed to the hollow behind her knee and stopped there, the pad of his thumb pressing into her skin, as if measuring how much she could take.

Lucía felt the first shiver rise up her leg and into her cunt. She looked toward the kitchen door. It was open, but the hallway was empty. The street too, at that hour.

***

—It’s fucking hot in here, isn’t it, ma’am? —the blond said.

He pulled down the top half of his coveralls and stayed in a fitted T-shirt, sweat darkening his chest. Lucía opened her mouth to say something, she didn’t know what, and before she could speak the dark-haired man had grabbed her wrist.

—Relax —he murmured—. We’re working.

The man’s thumb drew circles in her palm. It was a strange gesture, almost tender, that didn’t fit with the rest. Lucía tried to pull her hand back and he tightened his grip a little, still smiling.

The skinny one chose that moment to pass behind her, toward the window, and as he did he pressed his hips against her ass. It wasn’t a brush. It was a short, deliberate shove, and the hardness of his cock was perfectly felt beneath the coverall fabric, thick and pronounced from tip to base against the crack of Lucía’s ass.

—Sorry, ma’am —he said without a shred of shame, and pushed again, this time more slowly, rubbing his hard cock between her butt cheeks over the skirt—. This kitchen is small.

Lucía thought about screaming. She thought about Mauricio, who wasn’t due back until late, about the upstairs neighbors who were on vacation, about the peephole looking onto the empty hallway. She also thought, without wanting to think it, about the heat that had risen to her cheeks since she opened the door and how her panties were starting to stick, damp, between the lips of her cunt.

—You need to leave —she said, her voice coming out lower than she meant.

The dark-haired man did not let go of her. The blond came closer from the other side. The skinny one, still behind her, put his hands on her hips as if steadying her and pressed his cock against her ass again, this time without trying to hide it.

—First we finish the job, ma’am —the blond said—. Then we’ll go.

***

The apron hit the floor with a yank. Lucía didn’t understand which of the three had torn it off; she only registered the sound of the knot giving way and the sudden cold air at her waist. The dark-haired man ran an open hand over her T-shirt, slowly, and squeezed one breast, sinking his fingers until he found her nipple beneath the fabric and twisted it between thumb and forefinger.

—Look how they’re shaking —he said softly, almost to himself—. And look how your tits perk up with just two touches.

She wasn’t trembling only from fear. That was the worst part, the part that left her mute. There was a part of her that had spent months imagining something like this, a situation where she wouldn’t have to decide, where someone else would decide for her. Mauricio had stopped touching her sometime last year and she had never known how to ask for it back.

The blond unbuckled his belt without hurrying. The buckle jingled against the marble counter. He pulled down his pants and underwear in one motion and his cock sprang out, thick, red at the tip, with a pronounced vein running along the shaft. He took it in his hand and stroked it slowly, showing it to Lucía as if it were just another tool in the box.

The skinny one took Lucía by the nape and pushed her down, slow but without giving her a choice.

—On your knees, mama.

Lucía went down. She didn’t know if it was fear, curiosity, or recognizing in herself a fantasy she’d hidden for so long she no longer dared name it. The tiles were cold against her bare knees.

—Open your mouth. Nice and wide. Stick out your tongue, mama, so we can let you see the cock first.

Lucía opened it. The blond grabbed her hair at the nape, firmly but without pulling, and rested the tip of his cock against her lips. He dragged it from one corner to the other, leaving a shiny trail of spit and pre-cum in her mouth, and only then pushed in. He went in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, resting his cock on her tongue, until Lucía’s mouth filled with heat and the smell of sweaty man.

—Suck, ma’am. Like a woman sucks when it’s been a long time since she sucked.

Lucía closed her lips around the cock and started to suck it. At first in fear, moving her head only slightly, letting him set the pace. Then, when the blond grabbed her nape with both hands and started fucking her mouth with a firmer rhythm, she let go. She pulled his cock out to the tip, licked the crown, and took it back in all the way, her cheeks hollowed. Saliva started running down her chin and dripping onto her tits over the T-shirt.

The dark-haired man took out his cock and offered it from the side, almost brushing her cheek. Lucía understood, without anyone telling her, that the urgency was hers to set, not his. She let go of the blond’s cock with a wet sound and turned to suck the dark-haired man’s, longer, darker, with the foreskin pulled back. She took it to the throat at once and gagged, but didn’t let go. Tears filled her eyes.

—Look at her. Look how she settled herself —the skinny one said, and gave the cheek with his cock inside it a light slap—. This woman missed a cock.

That first concession made her dizzier than everything that came after. She started moving from one cock to the other, sucking them in turn, using her hand on the one not in her mouth. She could taste her own pre-cum mixed with theirs, and she could feel how the skinny one, meanwhile, spread her ass cheeks from behind with his thumbs and moved her panties aside to slide two fingers into her soaked cunt.

—She’s dripping, boys —the skinny one announced from behind—. Two fingers go in with no resistance. Look.

He pulled out his shiny fingers and ran them across Lucía’s mouth between cock and cock. She licked them too, without hesitation, and the skinny one laughed under his breath.

***

The dark-haired man lifted her by the hair, shoved her against the turned-off washing machine, and turned her face against the metal. The appliance was warm on the upper part, where the sun had been hitting it all afternoon. He hiked her skirt up over her hips without delicacy and ripped off her panties from the side. The elastic snapped with a dry crack.

—Look at this —he told the blond—. She’s wet. It’s running down her thighs.

He spread her ass cheeks with both hands and spit between them. Then he lowered his head and ran his tongue from her clit to her asshole, long, flat, unhurried. Lucía gripped the edge of the washing machine with both hands and let out a short, sharp moan that came from deeper inside than she expected.

—Listen to me, ma’am —the dark-haired man murmured against her cunt—. How long has no one put a mouth on this ass, huh?

He ate her cunt from behind, sucking her lips, plunging his tongue in, and every so often he climbed up to lick her ass with the tip. Lucía pressed her forehead to the metal, hearing the hum of the air conditioner, the wall clock, her own ragged breathing. She thought this isn’t happening to me, but the phrase sounded false even in her own head, especially when she felt her hips start moving on their own backward, seeking the man’s tongue.

The skinny one appeared at her side and put two fingers against her lips. She opened them without being asked.

—Good girl. Suck, because you’re gonna need your mouth busy pretty soon.

The dark-haired man stood up abruptly, took his cock in his hand, rubbed it against Lucía’s soaked cunt, slid it between her lips without entering, teasing. Then he rested it right at her entrance.

—Want me to put it in, ma’am? Ask for it.

Lucía clenched her teeth. The dark-haired man gave her ass a dry slap, hard enough to leave a red handprint.

—Ask for it.

—Put it in —Lucía said, her voice hoarse—. Put it in me.

The dark-haired man entered her from behind in one shove, to the balls, without any more warning. Lucía dug her nails into the edge of the washing machine. She did not scream. She let out a lower, more animal sound she had never heard from herself, a long moan that broke in the middle when he pulled his cock out to the tip and rammed it all the way back in.

—I told you she was one of those —the skinny one said, and let out a short laugh—. Look how she takes it. Goes all the way in without blinking.

The dark-haired man moved with a steady rhythm, without changing pace, as if measuring each thrust. He grabbed her hips with both hands, sunk his thumbs into the flesh of her ass cheeks, and started fucking her harder, making skin slap against skin. Lucía’s cunt sloshed with each thrust. The blond positioned himself in front, took her head with both hands, and shoved his cock into her mouth at the same time, all the way down, cutting off her air.

—If your husband touched you like this, you wouldn’t have opened the door for us —he told her in her ear when he let her mouth go for a second to breathe.

Lucía didn’t answer. The truth burned on her tongue. She let herself be fucked from both sides, rocked between the dark-haired man’s cock behind and the blond’s in front, warm saliva dripping down her chin and her cunt tightening with every thrust. The skinny one, meanwhile, groped her all over, pinched her nipples under the rolled-up T-shirt, ran a hand over her swollen clit, shoved a finger into her ass up to the knuckle.

—She’s about to come —the skinny one announced, with the voice of a technician reading a panel—. Look at her legs shaking.

He was right. Lucía felt the orgasm seize her from the inside like a filthy wave, impossible to stop. Her cunt clenched around the dark-haired man’s cock, her throat tightened around the blond’s, and her whole body shook, long, in waves, while a muffled moan vibrated against the cock in her mouth.

—There it is —the dark-haired man said, without slowing—. There’s the ma’am.

***

They switched turns without speaking. The blond took the dark-haired man’s place behind her, grabbed his cock, and drove it into Lucía’s cunt still trembling from the orgasm, with a rough thrust that lifted her onto her toes. The dark-haired man wrapped an arm around her from the front, hiked her T-shirt up to her neck, and freed her tits, two full white tits, with nipples standing up and red from so much pinching. He bent down and bit one shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, then lowered himself and started sucking her tits with his mouth open, taking one nipple at a time as if he meant to rip them off.

The skinny one, standing against the fridge, had already pulled down his coveralls and was stroking his cock, watching with his hands on his shaft like a foreman inspecting a job.

—Look at her, how she gets herself into position —the skinny one said—. She gets it now. She’s offering herself.

Lucía opened her eyes and saw her own blurred reflection in the metal surface of the washing machine: hair stuck to her forehead, mouth half-open, one cheek flattened against the cold, her tits out and bouncing with each thrust of the blond. She didn’t fully recognize the woman in the reflection and, even so, she wasn’t surprised to find her there.

The blond held her by the hips and sped up. He asked her, his voice half-broken, to say something.

—Tell me you like it, ma’am. Say it.

—I like it —Lucía said, the words thick in her mouth—. I like your cock. Put it deeper.

The blond let out a choked laugh and smacked her on the ass.

—See, ma’am? I knew it. I knew you were keeping it in.

He fucked her harder, faster, until he let out a low grunt, buried himself to the balls, and went still for a second, trembling. Lucía felt the hot jets spilling inside her, one after another, and the blond thrusting every time he came, as if he wanted to shove his load deeper into her.

When he pulled out, the cum began to run down the inside of her thigh. The skinny one left his place against the fridge and came over, crouched behind Lucía, and ran his tongue up her thigh, following the trail to her open cunt. He licked the blond’s cum out of her, spat some into his hand, and smeared it on his cock.

—Now me, mama. I’ll leave you full from the other side.

Lucía felt the tip of the skinny one’s cock press against her asshole and wanted to say something, but the dark-haired man had already shoved his cock back into her mouth. The skinny one didn’t bother with his own spit, contenting himself with the blond’s cum and the neighbor’s wet cunt. He pushed in little by little, patiently, while Lucía squeezed her eyes shut and tried to relax.

—Relax, mama. Relax your ass. You’ll see how it goes in.

The skinny one’s cock made its way in, first the head, then the rest, until his balls touched her ass cheeks. Lucía moaned with her mouth full, a long, whiny sound that made the dark-haired man laugh.

—Hear her. Hear the ma’am, the first time they fuck her right.

The skinny one started moving in her ass, slow at first, deeper after. The dark-haired man fucked her mouth. Lucía let herself be carried between the two cocks, rocking from front to back, feeling how her empty cunt clenched between thrusts, how it grew even wetter just knowing she was being impaled in two holes at once.

She said something between moans. It wasn’t a proper word; it was a name, and it wasn’t Mauricio’s.

***

The keys turned in the foyer lock after they’d been at it a good while.

Lucía didn’t hear the front door because the skinny one had his hand over her mouth while he kept fucking her ass. The dark-haired man was the first to look up. He lifted his gaze and, without slowing his hips, smiled.

—Husband home —he murmured.

Mauricio came into the kitchen with his jacket folded over one arm and his briefcase in the other hand. He stopped in the doorway. He said nothing. He didn’t shout. He dropped the briefcase on the floor with a dry thud and stayed there, staring at his wife with her tits out, her skirt hiked up to her waist, and the skinny one’s cock going in and out of her ass.

Lucía turned her head slowly. The ceiling lamp hit her husband right in the face and marked his red eyes, wide, still not fully understanding what was in front of him. The skinny one’s hand loosened over her mouth but did not stop fucking her.

—Welcome home, boss —the blond said, wiping his cock with a kitchen towel—. We were fixing the washing machine.

The dark-haired man withdrew from Lucía’s mouth without taking his eyes off Mauricio. His face was calm, as if he had been caught finishing an invoice. He patted Lucía’s ass softly.

—Turn around, mama. Show your husband how we left you.

The skinny one pulled his cock out of her ass with a wet, obscene sound, and Lucía felt the stream of cum and saliva running down the backs of her thighs. She obeyed. She didn’t need to think about it. She turned around leaning against the washing machine, with her skirt hiked up to her waist, her tits out, and another man’s seed sliding down her legs. She looked Mauricio in the eyes for the first time in a long time.

—You came back early —she said, and her voice came out calm.

Mauricio took a step forward. Then another. He did not retreat, did not call the police, did not lift the briefcase. He stood three meters away from her, hands hanging at his sides, staring at her open, dripping cunt.

—Lucía —he said, and his voice broke on the last syllable.

The skinny one went up to the husband and put a hand on his shoulder. It was a strange gesture, almost one of camaraderie.

—Come closer, boss. Take a good look. Look at your wife’s cunt, how it came out.

Mauricio didn’t move. But he didn’t leave either. The skinny one guided him by the shoulder, slowly, until he was a meter from Lucía. She held his gaze the whole time.

—Kneel down —Lucía said, and it was the strangest thing she had ever heard herself say.

Mauricio knelt.

***

The dark-haired man came up behind the husband and rested a hand on his head, not pressing, just marking his position. The blond grabbed Lucía by the hips and sat her on the edge of the washing machine, legs spread wide, exactly at Mauricio’s face level. Lucía’s cunt was a hand’s breadth from her husband’s mouth, swollen, red, shining with the blond’s cum still leaking out slowly.

—Clean her up —the skinny one said—. She’s your wife. The cum is ours, but the cunt is yours. Suck.

Mauricio leaned forward. Lucía felt her husband’s breath on the inside of her thigh and, after that, his tongue. It was warm. It was clumsy. It was him, finally, after months. The tongue touched the lips of her cunt first, hesitating, and then slipped inside, searching, finding the taste of another man mixed with hers.

—That’s it —Lucía murmured, burying her fingers in his hair—. Like that, Mauricio. Lick it all. Get the cum out of me they left behind.

Mauricio obeyed. He ate her cunt with his mouth open, swallowing what came out, running his tongue over her clit with a clumsiness that faded within minutes. Lucía squeezed his head between her thighs, rubbed herself against his face, started moaning with her mouth open, staring at the ceiling.

The blond laughed under his breath. The dark-haired man settled behind the kneeling husband and ran a hand down his back, under his shirt, marking the route for the next turn. He lowered his belt without hurrying. Mauricio felt the contact and did not move. He closed his eyes and kept sucking his wife’s cunt while the dark-haired man removed his belt from behind.

—Well done, boss —the skinny one said—. The ma’am learned this afternoon. Now it’s your turn. Loosen up, boss, it’s the first time but not the last.

Lucía wasn’t looking at her husband. She was looking at the ceiling, the lights, the cracks in the paint she’d been meaning to have fixed all year. She felt Mauricio’s tongue working her cunt, the blond’s hand caressing one breast, the skinny one’s breath on her neck, biting her ear. She thought that at some point they would have to talk about what had just happened, but they had time. The three service guys weren’t leaving anytime soon. The washing machine was still broken. And for the first time in a long while, Mauricio didn’t seem to want to go anywhere else.