My Confession: Two Lovers and a Single Night in Granada

On Wednesday I called Damián to return the apartment keys. He said he’d stop by in the afternoon, though he insisted I keep them in case he ever came back to Zaragoza and needed somewhere to sleep.

I spent the morning tidying the apartment and packing my suitcase. I ate something light, took a long bath in the tub, and when I got out I rubbed coconut cream all over my body. I dressed in a white pleated miniskirt and a blue top, without a bra because of the heat. Underneath, a sheer wine-colored thong and sandals with no socks.

He arrived around six with a bouquet of roses, a bottle of wine, and some pastries. We greeted each other with a kiss.

—You needn’t have bothered —I told him as I arranged the flowers in a vase—. They’re beautiful, but I’m leaving on Friday and they’ll wither.

—The important thing is that you have them. And if you leave them in water, you’ll remember me every time you come in here.

—Do you want something to drink? I’ve got tinto de verano. I’m saving the pastries for dinner... you’re staying, right?

—It’ll be a pleasure. In the meantime, a tinto is fine.

I poured us two glasses and we sat in the living room to chat while we waited for dinner time. The heat came in through the open window and I fanned myself with my hand, adjusting my skirt, which had ridden up too far when I sat down.

—You’re making me hotter too, gorgeous —he said with a smile, and put an arm around my shoulders to draw me closer.

I smiled back and he brought his lips to mine. He started tenderly and grew slow, deep, until his hand traveled down my left leg and slipped under my skirt. He stroked my hip and moved toward my groin, and when his fingers found their way between my legs I felt a shiver run through me from head to toe. I parted my knees, relaxed, letting myself go with his caresses.

I brought my hand down to his bulge and rubbed him over his pants. I searched for the zipper and pulled it down a little clumsily. He stretched out, loosened his belt, and shoved his pants down to mid-thigh. I slipped my hand into his boxer briefs and took him out, already hard. I leaned in and kissed him slowly, tracing his shaft with my lips, lingering on every inch before taking him into my mouth.

—Anyone would say you’re forty —he murmured, amused by my enthusiasm.

He lifted my skirt and stroked my ass with his open hand. He gave me a gentle slap.

—Well, look at you, flying the French flag —he teased, referring to the colors of my clothes.

He pulled down my thong and lay back on the sofa. He positioned me over him, his head between my legs, and we lost ourselves in an improvised sixty-nine that was anything but awkward. His hands held my hips while his tongue worked patiently, and I responded with the same dedication. I held out as long as I could. When my legs stopped supporting me, I let myself fall onto his mouth in an orgasm that bent me in two.

He gave me no respite. He sat up, lifted my top, and put me on my knees on the sofa, my hips raised. He ran the tip between my lips several times, brushing my clit until I moaned, and then entered with one hard thrust. The sharp impact of his body against mine filled the room. I reached one hand back between my legs, trying to touch him as I moved to his rhythm.

We switched. He sat down and I climbed on top, one leg on either side, lowering myself until I felt him all the way inside. I rose and fell while he held my hips and alternated between my breasts with his mouth. I pushed him until I felt him grow, tense, and with a rough sound he emptied himself inside me. I kept moving in slow circles until he was done.

—Dinner —I said at last, laughing against his shoulder.

I went to the bathroom to freshen up and came back wearing only my thong and skirt; in that heat, the top was pointless. We served the food while brushing against each other, our hands never staying still. When I brought out the pastries and coffee, he dipped a finger into the cream on one and smeared it over my nipples. The cold made me shiver and they hardened instantly.

—Much better like this —he said, and cleaned them with his tongue.

One thing led to another. He laid me on the table, spread my legs, and entered me again, this time without hurry. He alternated rhythms: first deep and slow, then fast and steady. When he felt me wet and spent after another orgasm, he pulled out and slowly pushed into the other side, making his way centimeter by centimeter while his thumb played with my clit. I ended up pulling his arms toward me, shaken by a second wave just as he emptied himself a second time that afternoon.

We showered together. He tried once more under the water, but I was too sensitive and preferred to finish it with my mouth. We dressed while talking for a while, and then he left. I stayed reading on the sofa until sleep took me to bed after midnight.

***

The next day I took the train to Granada, to Noa’s place. No one was there when I arrived, so I slept for a while and went out to eat at a bar. I came back when Rosa and Clara, the roommates, were already home, and we stayed chatting until dinner.

On Friday, after lunch, Noa called me and asked me to meet her in the city center. Rosa and Clara were leaving for the weekend and she didn’t want to be alone. I showered and got dressed in a lilac-and-black outfit, a leather skirt, a semi-sheer blouse, and matching boots. We met at a famous horchata shop downtown, and while we were drinking cold horchata, Unai showed up. He was alone.

—Gorka had to go to his parents’ house —he explained when he saw my face—. But this is better, isn’t it? At least for me.

—It won’t be the first time the three of us are alone —Noa added, looking at me in a way that said everything.

I shrugged and smiled. Unai paid the bill and we went for a walk. Then we took a bus to the beach area, because Noa suggested going dancing. We had seafood dinner nearby and went into the club at a good hour. Unai got us a table by the dance floor and a bottle, and he prepared the drinks while I explained how we serve them in Mexico. They tasted them and swore they were different. Better, they said.

After midnight we were both a little tipsy. The three of us danced together, and on some songs just one of us with him, taking turns. The brushing up against each other started as accidents and stopped being accidents. The tension became so thick you could touch it. At one point Noa and I went to the bathroom to touch up our makeup, and in front of the mirror we looked at each other, laughing.

—How are you? —she asked.

—Happy. A little worked up —I admitted—. And you?

—Same. He seems pretty eager, doesn’t he?

—You just now noticed? —I blurted, and we both burst out laughing, our faces red.

We went back out, danced a couple of slow songs where the brushing against each other was no longer hiding anything, and when we returned to the table Noa asked if we were leaving.

—To your place or mine? —Unai said.

—I don’t know if Bruno is with Yaiza... —she hesitated.

—I can take a taxi home, no problem —I offered.

They both said no at the same time.

—We came together and we’re leaving together —he said firmly, wrapping an arm around each of our waists.

—Don’t hold back, Cami —Noa added.

—Am I boring you? —Unai pulled me against him.

—Dummy, you know you’re not —I told him.

He gave me a quick kiss, took out his phone, and ordered a taxi.

The three of us climbed into the back seat. As soon as we pulled away, Unai put his arms around our shoulders and started stroking our breasts, first over our clothes and then slipping his hand underneath. Noa let out little laughs that caught the driver’s attention, and he glanced at her in the rearview mirror. She put her hand on his thigh and they kissed. I leaned toward Unai, rested my head on his shoulder, and stroked the bulge over his pants, feeling him grow under my palm.

The ride was short. At that hour there was no traffic on the highway and we arrived in less than fifteen minutes. While I kept caressing him, his hand slipped under my skirt and pushed it up to my waist. I let him, slouched back in the seat, enjoying the boldness. When we got out, the street was so narrow that I had to wriggle all the way to the other side to exit, not adjusting my skirt until I was standing, to the driver’s delight.

—Damn, that guy got a real hard-on —Unai laughed in the elevator.

—It wasn’t that much —I protested.

—How was it not? Your skirt was all the way up —Noa teased.

We went into the apartment and he put on music. Noa collapsed onto the sofa complaining about her feet.

—I have a fantasy —Unai said—. I want the two of you to dance for me. It’s been a long time since the three of us were alone. Is that okay?

Noa and I looked at each other. We both knew where the night was headed from the moment we left the club, and that was exactly what had us like this. I shrugged and played along.

She started moving to the music and I followed her. We swayed, running our hands over each other’s bodies without quite touching, until she turned her back to me and pulled her dress zipper down a little, inviting me to finish the job. I lowered it slowly. The dress fell to the floor and underneath there was a black lace set. She came up to me face-to-face and, to my surprise, she was the one who unbuttoned my blouse and stroked my breasts while Unai, seated, touched himself over his pants, not missing a thing.

—Touch each other a little —he asked in a hoarse voice—. It’s so hot.

He unzipped his pants and stroked himself up and down. I stepped away from Noa and went toward him with slow steps, kissed his thighs, and brought my mouth to his erection. Noa followed him, took off her bra, and threw it at his chest, then played with his hair and testicles while I had him in my mouth. He stroked both our heads, sighing, as we took turns.

He made us stand up and bend over, our backs to him. He stroked and kissed us in turn, pulling down our underwear in stages, running his tongue between our lips until he had us moaning. Then he pulled me between his legs, sat me on him facing away, and I lowered myself until I had him all the way inside. I started a slow rocking that turned fast, leaning back against his chest, while Noa kissed him and offered him her breasts. I ended up pressing myself against his torso with a long orgasm, moving my hips in circles. Noa reached hers almost at the same time, with Unai’s fingers between her legs.

I got off and sat to one side, catching my breath, while Noa settled on her knees on the sofa and he entered her with one hard thrust. Each stroke drew a moan from her. I felt a little dizzy, I don’t know if from the drinks or from how intense it all was. She lost her balance when she tried to touch herself, so she took my hand and brought it to her breast. I slid under her body and from there stroked her breasts while she leaned down to kiss me. We stayed like that until the three of us exploded almost at once, in a tangle of gasps.

Unai pulled away and came toward me. He stroked my head and I opened my mouth. I worked him with my tongue until he was hard again, and then he sought the other entrance carefully. He laid me on the rug, lifted my legs onto his shoulders, and entered slowly, giving me time. With his free hand he stroked my breasts and, with his thumb, played with my clit in slow circles. I lowered my legs to wrap them around his waist and let the rhythm build. The double friction took me to the edge again; I clenched hard when I felt the orgasm hit, and he emptied himself over me with one last deep thrust, lying on top of me, his mouth on my nipple.

I stayed stretched out on the rug for a while, legs together, chest rising and falling, savoring the last wave with my eyes closed. After that Noa helped me up and we showered together. I was so relaxed that I let her soap me up.

—Did it bother you that I kissed you? —she asked, passing me the sponge.

—No. It was surprising, but I understood it was part of the night —I told her.

She kissed me again, on the mouth and on the breasts, and her hand slid down until it made me jolt from how sensitive I was. She left it there. We finished showering and lay down, naked, one on each side of Unai, and fell asleep like that.

I woke up late, with the movement of the bed. I turned over and it was Noa, riding him. I got up quietly, picked up my clothes from the living room, got dressed, and left for home, leaving them alone. On the train back I understood that this was the confession I never thought I’d have to tell anyone. Here it is.