She Arranged Everything So He Could Try It Too

I arrived at Claudio and Valeria’s apartment on a Tuesday night, as we had agreed. Claudio opened the door for me still wearing a bathrobe—one of those thick white robes people buy at hotels and save for special occasions—with the broad smile of someone who knows something important is about to happen but has no idea exactly how it will unfold. He told me to come in, that Valeria wouldn’t be long. He said I already knew what women were like, with a wink that was meant to be conspiratorial but had more nerves than humor in it.

—Am I too early? I asked.

—No, right on time. It’s her; she always takes twice as long as she plans to.

He said it with genuine tenderness, not annoyance.

He ushered me into the living room. The apartment smelled of candles and something that had been cooked hours earlier. He offered me a drink, and I handed him the bottle of red wine I had brought; I asked him to let it breathe for a while. He opened a beer—the fourth or fifth of the night, judging by his eyes—and sat down across from me with that contained energy of men waiting for something that frightens and attracts them in equal measure.

We had been talking about nothing for ten minutes when I heard footsteps on the stairs.

Valeria came down wearing a short black dress, her shoulders bare and her hair pinned up in that careless way that takes work. She looked me in the eyes for a moment before making a slow turn, as if she had practiced the movement in front of a mirror, and asked how I was.

—Very well, I said. And it was true.

The three of us sat down. I poured the wine, Claudio opened another beer, and for quite a while we talked with the calm that conversation has when everyone knows where it is going but no one wants to get there too quickly. I told them about Marcos and Clara, a couple who had gone through something similar a few months earlier, and how their initial fear had turned into something they both remembered clearly and without shame. Valeria listened with her elbows on her knees, leaning forward.

—What if something doesn’t work? she asked.

—We stop. No drama, no debts. Nobody owes anybody anything tonight.

Claudio nodded slowly. Valeria looked at him before continuing.

—There’s something I want to ask you, but later, she told me. When this has already gone well.

—Whenever you want, I replied. There’s no agenda tonight.

She relaxed. She leaned back against the sofa and crossed her legs.

***

Valeria was the one who suggested putting on the movie. They had downloaded something that afternoon, a well-filmed threesome video without jarring cuts. We put it on the big television and settled onto the sofa, with her in the middle between us.

We watched the first few minutes with low-voiced comments, half joking, pointing out absurd situations on the screen. That’s part of the process too: humor as a release valve, a way of getting used to the three of us being on the same sofa watching the same thing. Claudio was already on his fifth beer, and his mood had noticeably loosened.

When the woman on the screen knelt between the two men’s legs and started sucking their cocks in turns, sucking one while jerking the other with a hand full of saliva, Valeria squeezed my thigh with her fingers. I placed my hand over hers and slowly moved it up beneath her dress, until I felt the edge of her panties, already soaked. Claudio put his arm around her shoulders and began stroking her neck with his thumb, without taking his eyes off the screen.

Valeria closed her eyes for a moment and parted her legs just enough for my fingers to slip in beside the elastic. I touched her directly, without beating around the bush, finding her swollen, slippery clitoris, already wet from all the time she had spent imagining this. She swallowed and pressed her thighs against my hand.

This is really going to happen, I thought. And the thought didn’t frighten me. It gave me that particular calm that comes with something already decided.

***

Valeria said she needed to go to the bathroom. Before getting up, she brushed her lips against my ear and whispered very slowly that I should encourage Claudio, that he wanted to but needed someone to take the first step. That she knew him. That he had been fantasizing about trying a cock for years but didn’t dare do it on his own.

When she left, Claudio and I were alone in front of the screen. I shifted a few inches closer to him. Without saying anything, I took his left hand and placed it over my bulge, on the outside of my pants. He didn’t pull it away. He didn’t look at me. He kept his eyes fixed on the television and slowly tightened his fingers, like someone touching something for the first time and wanting to understand its texture before deciding what he thought of it.

He decided he liked it.

In less than a minute he had undone my fly and had his fingers around my cock, weighing it in his palm, sliding the foreskin up and down with a craftsman’s curiosity. I was hard, pressed against my stomach, and Claudio watched it with an intensity he hadn’t given anything else all night. When I asked him quietly if he wanted to try it in his mouth, it took him less than five seconds.

—Yes, he said, and leaned down.

The first time his lips closed around the head, he let out a low sound, almost of relief, as if he had spent years wanting to know what it felt like. He sucked me with some awkwardness at first, careful of his teeth, testing how much he could take without gagging, but without hesitation. After a few minutes he had found his rhythm: down to the middle, then back up, wetting me with saliva all the way to the base, then down again. His tongue worked underneath, against the frenulum, with an insistence that made me clench my jaw.

Valeria was watching us from the hallway. I caught a glimpse of her: she was leaning against the doorframe with her dress pulled up to her waist and two fingers buried in her pussy, moving them slowly, her lips parted. I gave her a discreet nod. She shook her head, waved her glistening fingers, and gestured for me to let him continue. She waited a little longer before coming back, until I grabbed Claudio by the hair and pushed his head down to make him take me deeper.

She settled onto the sofa, pretending she had just arrived, picked up her glass from where she had left it, and took a calm sip. Then she said:

—Naughty boy. You think I didn’t see you.

Claudio looked up, his mouth still shiny and his ears red.

—Then we’re even now, I replied.

Valeria smiled, set her glass on the side table, and without further preamble knelt on the rug beside her husband and brushed his hair away from his forehead. Then she looked at me, licked her lips, and lowered her face to my cock as well. I watched them play between the two of them: passing the head from one mouth to the other, kissing with my cock between them, Valeria licking Claudio’s lips, covered in saliva and my fluid, while he let her, completely surrendered. That was how it all began: without a starting signal, without a protocol, with that slightly clumsy and completely honest naturalness that things have when they work.

***

What followed was disordered in form, but it had its own logic.

Valeria took the lead more than I would have expected. She asked for things precisely, corrected us without apologizing, and divided her attention between Claudio and me without losing the thread. We moved from the living room to the bedroom without anyone suggesting it aloud. One thing led to another.

I laid her on the bed and pulled off her dress in one tug. She wasn’t wearing a bra; her heavy white tits sprang free, her nipples pink and hard as points. Her skin was very pale, with a small sun mark on her right shoulder. I tore off her panties—they were already soaked, twisted into a cord—and spread her legs with one swipe. Her pussy was shaved smooth, her lips swollen and parting on their own, glistening all the way to the entrance of her ass.

She took me by the nape with both hands while I traced her belly with my lips, moving down until I buried my mouth between her legs. I licked her slowly, flat-tongued, my tongue opening her lips and moving up to her clitoris to suck it like a candy. She arched her back and moaned loudly for the first time that night, without any filter.

—There, you bastard, there, don’t stop, she said, grabbing my hair. Put it in me, put your tongue in me, like that.

I slid two fingers inside her while keeping my mouth on her, curling them upward against the front wall, searching for the spot that made her thighs shake. Claudio had stripped completely and positioned himself at the headboard. She turned her face and swallowed his cock without stopping her movement against my hand. She sucked him hungrily, noisily, letting a strand of saliva run from her chin down to her neck.

For quite a while the two of us had her between us: receiving and giving at the same time, a pussy impaled on my fingers and a mouth full of her husband’s cock, moving so she could be with both of us at once, never letting either of us be left out.

—More, she said whenever she liked something. And she said it without asking permission. Deeper. Harder. Fuck me now, I can’t take it anymore.

When I entered her, I drove in with one long thrust, all the way to the bottom, and she screamed against Claudio’s mouth. I fucked her missionary-style at first, squeezing her tits, watching her face while her pussy opened around my cock and closed its walls around it like a wet fist. Claudio was close to her face, and she grabbed him and kept pace with the rhythm set by both bodies at once: every thrust of mine sent her mouth forward against his cock, and she swallowed deeper with every stroke.

I put her on her knees. Claudio stayed beneath her, with her straddling him, and he slowly slid his cock into her pussy while I held her hips from behind. I spat on her ass, spread the saliva over her asshole with my thumb, and began massaging her against the rim. She let out a low growl and pushed her ass back on her own, offering it. I inserted one finger first, up to the knuckle, and she writhed on top of Claudio, panting.

—Both of you, she said through clenched teeth. Both at once. I want both.

I positioned myself behind her. With Claudio inside her pussy there wasn’t much room, but her ass was already loose and wet. I pushed slowly, resisting the urge to bury myself in her all at once, and felt the ring give way in two stages. When I was fully inside, Valeria let out a long whimper and collapsed onto Claudio’s chest. We stayed still for a moment, all three of us breathing, with her impaled between two cocks separated by a thin layer of flesh.

Then we began to move. We found the rhythm by the second or third thrust: when I entered, Claudio withdrew; when he thrust upward, I withdrew. She couldn’t keep her mouth closed. She moaned things that weren’t words, gripped the sheets, and let saliva drip onto her husband’s chest. At some point there stopped being any separation between the scenes: everything was continuous, everything answered everything else. Valeria came like that, trembling, with both of us inside her, squeezing us so tightly that Claudio came too a few seconds later, moaning against her neck, filling her pussy with his cum while I kept fucking her ass.

I pulled out before I came. It was Valeria who, during a moment of calm between one thing and the next, still breathing hard with her husband’s semen running down her thigh, said:

—Claudio. Bring the cream from the drawer.

She looked at me while he got out of bed.

—Is it going to hurt him a lot? she asked quietly.

—A little at first. After that, no, if we go slowly.

—Do it right, she said. It wasn’t a request. Take him the way you took me.

***

Claudio came back with the jar. We got into position: him on all fours in the middle of the bed, Valeria kneeling beside him and stroking his back, and me behind him. I poured cold cream onto his ass and began with my hands, one finger first, not rushing anything, letting his body understand that it could open without resisting. Claudio gripped the sheets in his fists but didn’t ask me to stop. I inserted a second finger and scissored them, finding the rhythm inside him. When he began letting out short, involuntary sighs, I knew the tension had given way.

—How are you? I asked him.

—Good, he said. And it sounded real, not like an obligatory answer.

I pressed the tip of my cock against his asshole and pushed just slightly, letting him decide how much farther. He pushed back, and the head slipped in at once. He let out a rough moan, halfway between a complaint and surprise, and stayed still with me barely resting against him. I waited. When he began breathing again, I pushed a little farther. A little more. All the way in.

Valeria stroked his back with an open palm, whispering things in his ear that I couldn’t make out. From time to time she looked at me over his shoulder with an expression that mixed tenderness with something resembling admiration, but directed at her husband, not me.

—You look so beautiful like this, she whispered, more to herself than to anyone. Look at how he puts it in you, love. Look at how he opens you.

I started moving in earnest. Slowly at first, long withdrawals until only the head remained inside, then thrusts all the way to the bottom, my hips slapping against his. Claudio panted with his eyes closed and his cheek against the pillow, his cock hard again, hanging between his legs. There was no effort left in him, no resistance. Just his body responding. I asked if he wanted more. He nodded without speaking.

I grabbed his hips and picked up the pace. I fucked his ass with hard strokes, listening to my balls smack against his, watching the ring open and close around the base of my cock. Claudio moaned without restraint, making sounds I hadn’t heard from him all night, loose, obscene sounds.

Valeria positioned herself in front of him then, her back against the headboard and her legs spread, and pressed her mouth to her pussy so he could eat her while I fucked him. From that angle, the three of us formed a chain in which each person felt what the other was doing: she felt what he did with his tongue, he felt what I did from behind, and no one wanted to interrupt the circuit. Every thrust of mine drove Claudio’s face directly into his wife’s pussy. She began moving his head with both hands, holding him against herself, moaning while looking into my eyes over his hair.

—You’re giving it to him so well, she told me, almost voicelessly. Look at how my husband lets himself get fucked. Look at him.

When I came, I came inside him. I filled his ass, thrusting all the way in, gripping his hips, feeling his spasms around my cock as his own cum spilled onto the sheet without anyone touching him. Valeria was the first to react. I pulled out, and she lunged forward without warning, with complete intention, her mouth open and her tongue out, to suck my cock, smeared with him. Claudio, still lying down, took two seconds before joining in. They competed and pushed each other and laughed, passing my cock from one mouth to the other, sucking up what was left, and that laughter was probably the best part of the night.

It was a game. That was all: a game between three adults who had each decided, in their own way, to see what lay on the other side of the boundary they had always carried in their heads.

***

We showered in turns. Then we sat on the bed with what was left of the wine and talked for almost an hour about things that had nothing to do with what we had just done.

Valeria told me about an aunt who lived alone in another neighborhood and who, according to her, made better use of her time than anyone. She had had several lovers since her divorce, and Valeria felt a kind of admiration for her that she didn’t dare call admiration, but that was what it was.

—She’s very free, she said. She always has been.

Claudio told me about his mother, Rosa, a woman who had been widowed a few years earlier and who, in his opinion, still had a lot of living left to do.

—I’ve always supported her in taking her chances, he said. But she’s very closed off. She says no man is going to make her happy.

—That sometimes changes, I told him.

—I hope so, he replied.

Valeria refilled our glasses. The night had become still, in the way the air does after something has gone well.

At the door, before I left, Valeria took me by the arm.

—Should we do it again? she asked.

Claudio appeared in the hallway with his arms crossed and the same broad smile with which he had opened the door for me hours earlier.

—Whenever you want, I replied. And I meant it.