I Confess to What I Did with a Swinger Couple

I’d spent weeks talking to them on one of those apps for open couples. Marcela and Damián were a little over twenty-five and had gotten into that scene about a year earlier. It wasn’t the first man they’d met up with, but they said they were looking for someone calm, someone who wouldn’t climb the walls or pressure them to hurry. I fit that description, or at least that’s what I made them believe.

We agreed to meet on a Friday at nine in a bar downtown, across from a square. I got there fifteen minutes early. I ordered a beer and kept looking at the door every time it opened until they came in, hand in hand. Marcela was brunette, with wide hips and a smile that made her look at ease in her own body. Damián was thin, taller, fair-skinned, with a restless gaze. They greeted me with a kiss on the cheek, each of them, as if we’d known one another for years.

—Nervous? —she asked as she settled into her chair.

—A little —I admitted.

—No need to be —he said, running his hand over her nape in a gesture that seemed meant more for me than for her.

We had a drink, then another. We talked about nonsense at first: the weather, the neighborhood, what they liked doing on weekends. Then the conversation naturally drifted toward the reason the three of us were there. She looked at Damián, Damián looked at her, and both of them looked at me between sentences. I didn’t have to suggest the next step. Marcela rested her hand on top of mine on the table and said:

—We already booked a room two blocks away. Want to go?

***

The hotel was one of those by-the-hour places, with a narrow elevator and the smell of lemon disinfectant. The room had a huge bed, a mirror on the back wall, and a dim bedside lamp that Damián switched on as soon as we walked in. Marcela sat on the edge of the bed and took off her shoes. He came up to me, held my gaze, and asked if I was sure.

—I am —I said.

—If at any point any one of the three of us wants to stop, we stop. No discussion —he added.

I nodded. Marcela beckoned me over, and I went to the bed. I sat beside her and slid my hand around her waist. Her skin was warm, her breathing a little quicker from the alcohol. I kissed her first with my mouth closed, slowly, testing the water. She parted her lips almost immediately, and I kissed her like I already knew her. Her tongue tasted faintly of red wine. Damián settled himself behind her, moved her hair off her neck, and started kissing the nape of her neck while I slipped the dress strap down her shoulder.

Marcela had full breasts, dark, with nipples already hard before I even touched them. I ran my tongue over one and then the other while Damián held her body from behind. I sucked them hungrily, bit them slowly, tugged them with my teeth until she arched and pressed herself against my mouth. Damián had slipped a hand under her dress, and I could see his arm moving between her parted thighs, his fingers going in and out, her cunt growing wetter and wetter until it stained his palm. She breathed with her mouth open, letting out clipped “ah, ah” sounds every time he curled his fingers inside her. I felt watched and exposed at the same time, and far from putting me off, that turned me on even more. I was hard against my pants, tight and aching already with need.

—If you want to taste her, taste her —he said softly, without taking his fingers out.

I got off the bed and knelt on the rug. Marcela slid to the edge of the mattress and opened her legs shamelessly. I pulled her thong to the side. She was shaved, her skin reddened from the friction of the fabric, her cunt swollen and glossy, the lips spread by Damián’s fingers still inside. He pulled them out slowly, slick with juice, and brushed them across my mouth before I even leaned in. I sucked his fingers clean with her fluid still warm on them and he smiled. I ran my tongue slowly, from bottom to top, once, so she’d know what was coming. When I did it again, even slower, a sound escaped her that wasn’t quite a moan, more like a long inward sigh.

I spread her cunt with two fingers and searched for her clit with the tip of my tongue. I found it hard, swollen, and stayed there, circling it, sucking it, tugging it with my lips. Then I dipped down and drove my tongue inside her, as deep as I could, moving it as if I were fucking her that way. She started rocking her hips against my face, grinding, smearing her dampness over my chin and nose. I slipped a finger in, then two, and curled them upward while I kept licking her clit. Damián was kissing her mouth while I worked her with tongue and fingers. I could hear her breathing against him, cutting off words I couldn’t quite make out, a muffled “like that, like that,” a “don’t stop, fuck” that came out louder than she meant it to. After a while he leaned toward the edge, took my jaw in his hand, and lifted my face to his. He kissed me. I still had the taste of her in my mouth, and when he noticed that, something sparked in his eyes. He bit my lip and sucked my tongue clean, swallowing what was left of Marcela on him.

***

—Lie down —he told Marcela.

She settled herself in the middle of the bed. Damián and I knelt down, one on each side of her head. I was already naked from the waist down, my cock standing hard and pulsing, the tip wet. He pulled off his boxer briefs while looking at me, as if he wanted to see my reaction. He was hard, thick, a vein running the length of him, the head red and exposed, a shiny thread hanging from the tip. Marcela turned her head toward me first and then toward him. She took both of us in her hands and started alternating, one and then the other, with patience. She took me all the way into her mouth, spit me out, licked me from balls to tip and then turned her face and did the same to Damián. I watched her tongue work him, watched his cheeks bulge every time she took him all the way in, watched saliva dribble from his chin down to his neck. I couldn’t stop looking at how she surrendered to the rhythm, or how Damián looked at her, or how he looked at me when it was my turn and she made me swallow in one gulp until I let out a low moan.

At some point, without anyone asking, he leaned to the side and replaced Marcela’s hand with his mouth. He did it with a confidence that left me frozen. He wasn’t clumsy, he wasn’t in a hurry. He knew exactly what he was doing. He took me all the way in, to the root, and stayed there for a few seconds, his throat squeezing the tip of me. Then he started going up and down slowly, sucking hard, making a wet sound every time he came back up. I kept breathing deeply, one hand on the back of his neck, not pressing, letting him set the pace. He pulled me out of his mouth, spat on me, took me back in. I felt my balls tighten and had to pull his face away so I wouldn’t come right then. Then I got bold enough to return the favor. I leaned over him and took him in my mouth carefully at first, then with more confidence. It was the first time I’d had another man like that. He was thicker than I’d guessed from above, and it took me a couple of tries to settle my jaw around him. I ran my tongue over the head, gathered saliva, and slid it down my mouth as far as I could stand. I felt his pulse against my palate. It wasn’t what I had imagined. It wasn’t better or worse. It was something else, something different, with its own geometry. I took a risk and drove him deeper, until I choked a little, and when I looked up I found him watching me with his mouth open.

Marcela watched us from the pillow with a smile I hadn’t seen on her before. She was touching herself, unhurried, with two fingers sunk into her cunt and her thumb circling her clit. I could see her tits rising and falling fast, her nipples hard, a sheen on her open thighs. As if the scene in front of her was enough.

***

—Your turn —he told me after a while.

Damián opened the drawer of the bedside table, took out a condom, and handed it to me. I put it on while looking at her, as she licked the fingers she’d been using on herself. Marcela got on all fours and waited like that, looking back over her shoulder, with her ass up and her pink cunt open, dripping between her thighs. I settled behind her, ran the tip along her lips, rubbed it against her clit a couple of times, and when I felt her push back I slid in slowly to the hilt and stayed still. She was hot inside, tight, drawing me in with every breath. She bit her lip. I started moving with a short rhythm at first, pulling out only a little and then pushing back in, and then longer, with full thrusts that made me slap against her ass with a sharp sound. I gripped her hips, dug my fingers into her flesh, and started fucking her hard, listening to the “ah”s escape her every time I hit bottom. Then I turned her around because I wanted to see her face. I lifted her legs, put them over my shoulders, and drove into her to the hilt again. Her face was the best part. She had that concentrated, almost serious expression of pleasure that people get when they’re really living something. Her mouth slightly open, her eyes squeezed shut, and every now and then a “yes, like that, don’t stop” that slipped out without permission.

Damián climbed onto the bed and settled near her head. She took him in her mouth without stopping the movement of her hips against me. I watched her throat swallow him whole, her cheek bulging every time he pushed in. Saliva ran from the corner of her mouth, mixing with the sweat on her neck. I couldn’t believe how coordinated the three of us were without ever having discussed it: my thrusts drove her forward and in that same motion she swallowed his cock, and when he held her by the nape to shove it in to the hilt, the vibration of his muffled groans reached her cunt and made me clench her harder. At some point he looked up and asked me, almost in a whisper, if I wanted to try it the other way around.

—With me?

—With you —he said.

I thought about it for a second. Not much more. I nodded.

***

I slipped out of Marcela carefully. She stayed sprawled on her back, catching her breath, one hand between her legs, playing with the wetness she had left there. Damián went to the bathroom and came back with lube and a new condom. He told me to stand at the edge of the bed, leaning forward, forearms on the mattress. He spread my ass cheeks with his hands, came up to me, and ran his tongue over my hole, up and down, unhurried, wetting me well before anything else. Then came the lube, cold, and the first finger. He prepared me slowly, without rushing, while his other hand moved over my back. He slid one finger all the way in, turned it in circles, waited for me to open, and added the second. I felt myself stretching, the burn mixing with something deeper, hotter. Marcela watched from below, alert, eyes shining, and brought one hand to her cunt to keep herself company. She slipped two fingers into herself too, imitating the rhythm Damián was using to open me up.

—Tell me if it hurts —he said.

—You tell me if I need to move —I said, and the three of us laughed for the first time that night.

When he entered me, the first sensation was strange, a mix of pressure and heat I had nothing to compare it to. A clean burn, as if my body had to make room for something that didn’t fit. I stayed still. He did too, with just the tip inside me, holding my waist. Then he pushed a little farther, stopped, waited, and so on in several stages until he buried himself all the way in. I felt his balls pressed against mine, his hot breath on my nape. Then he started moving me, carefully, gauging my breathing. I caught his rhythm faster than I expected. Each thrust reached a place in me I hadn’t known existed, a point that sent blood rushing to my head. I asked for more with a grunt and he gave it to me. The bed started banging against the wall. Marcela came closer, spread her legs, and offered me her body. I bent down and penetrated her again, this time without moving myself: it was Damián setting the tempo behind me, and every push from him drove me deeper into her. I was the middle link, held and holding, his cock pushing me against her cunt.

The three of us stayed connected, chained by a single motion. The room filled with a new sound, three breaths trying to keep pace with one another, mixed with the wet slap of flesh, the mattress creaking, Marcela’s moans no longer clipped but long, open. She started clenching her cunt around my cock in spasms, dug her nails into my forearms, shouted something I couldn’t make out, and came, shaking all over, biting the back of her hand so she wouldn’t wake half the hotel. I couldn’t hold out much longer. Damián couldn’t either.

—I’m coming —he said, and sank all the way in. I felt the condom tighten, the short jerks of his cock inside me, his steady hands on my hips, his forehead resting against my nape. A hoarse groan against my ear as he came.

He stayed like that, pressed against me, for a long while, not pulling out. I didn’t move. Marcela stroked my chest from below with a tired smile.

***

After that he eased away slowly. He went to the bathroom again. I stayed kneeling at the edge of the bed, looking at Marcela. She sat up, took my hips, and came closer. She pulled off the condom with her teeth, never taking her eyes off me, and finished me with her mouth and hand. She sucked the tip while she ground the base with her fist, moving up and down fast, saliva dripping from her fingers. She took my balls in her other hand, squeezed them lightly, and that was enough. I asked permission with my eyes to finish there, and she nodded, opened her mouth, and stuck out her tongue. When I came, I filled her mouth with the first spurts and the rest landed on her breasts, one thick line between her tits, another thinner one over her left nipple. She laughed, swallowed what she had on her tongue, ran two fingers over the smeared skin, and brought them to her mouth, like someone tasting something new.

Damián came back, sat in the chair in the corner, and watched us for a while without saying anything. Marcela made space for me on the bed and the three of us stayed there, breathing, with the light low and the air heavy, smelling of sex and semen.

—Are you okay? —she asked me after a while.

Was I?

—I’m fine —I said. And it was true.

We showered in turns. Damián first, then me, Marcela last. By the time we left the hotel it was already past midnight. The street was empty. We walked to the corner without speaking and said goodbye like three people who had just shared a secret. They each gave me a kiss, she on the mouth, he at the corner of my lips. Then they got into a car and drove off.

I stood there on the sidewalk for a minute with my hands in my pockets, feeling the cold of the early morning on my face. It was the first time I’d been with a man. It was the first time I’d been with a couple. It was the first time for many things. I kept it all intact, the way you keep memories you know you’ll never live the same way again.