Sofía and Damián’s Condition Before the Swap

Mariela and I have been married for fifteen years. Fifteen good years, don’t get me wrong: we still laugh in the kitchen, we still argue about who loads the dishwasher, and there are nights when we come home wrapped around each other after dinner with friends. But we’ve also spent fifteen years with the same bed, the same body known down to the millimeter, and the same routine on Saturday nights.

She was the one who threw the first stone. One Sunday afternoon, stretched out on my chest, she dropped the idea on me without lifting her head.

—What if we tried another couple?

I didn’t fall off the sofa because the thought had already crossed my mind more than once. I’d just never dared to say it out loud. So that same week we opened a profile on a serious site and started chatting.

We’d had three failed attempts when we ran into them. With the first couple, I didn’t find the woman interesting; with the second, Mariela couldn’t stand the husband’s mustache; with the third, we both agreed they smelled too much like stale cologne. We were about to throw in the towel when Sofía and Damián showed up.

We met on a Friday in the late afternoon on a downtown terrace. They arrived on time, both dressed as if they’d stepped out of a magazine cover. Sofía was brunette, with a straight fringe and honey-colored eyes that didn’t blink when she was talking seriously. Damián was tall, broad-shouldered, with that short, well-kept beard that takes longer to groom than my wife takes on a Sunday. The first look Mariela and I exchanged under the table said it all: finally.

We ordered wine, talked about travel, about how we’d come to this lifestyle, about the codes each of us had. Everything was going too well. I’d gotten cocky.

—Before we go on, there’s a toll —Sofía said suddenly, resting her elbows on the table.

—A toll? —I repeated.

—We’re bisexual —she explained, looking at Mariela first and then at me—. If your husband wants to fuck my pussy, first he has to take care of Damián’s cock. And vice versa: the woman who wants to try my husband has to eat me first as an appetizer. That’s the only rule.

Mariela froze with her glass halfway between the table and her lips. I laughed, not because it was funny, but because my body didn’t know what to do with that information. In fifteen years together, that door had never opened. There wasn’t even a crack under it.

—We’ll let you think about it —Damián added, smiling as if he were offering us dessert.

***

We got home in silence. Mariela took off her heels in the hall, left her bag hanging on the chair, and poured herself a finger of whisky without asking if I wanted any. Bad sign.

—I’m not going to force you into anything —was the first thing she said, and that was already a way of starting to push me.

We talked until four in the morning. I went over every argument I could think of. That I’d never even considered touching a man. That I didn’t want to get confused. That I didn’t know if I’d be able to look at myself in the mirror afterward.

—I hadn’t thought about being with a woman either —she said, taking a sip—. But I’ve been thinking about it for two hours and, honestly, I don’t dislike the idea. I picture myself eating Sofía’s pussy and my panties get wet, what do you want me to say?

That sentence hit me like a stone in the stomach. And under the stone, something smaller and hotter surprised me: curiosity.

I gave in. I only asked for one thing.

—With Damián, I’m active. I fuck him, not the other way around.

Mariela called Sofía the next morning. When she hung up, she told me everything was arranged and that Damián, coincidentally, was exactly the opposite: with his wife and other women he took a very dominant role, but with a man he preferred to be in the opposite position. “For rough fucking, he already has me,” Sofía had told her.

We met the following Saturday. Dinner, theater, and then to their apartment, which had a jacuzzi. I’m telling it like a tourist itinerary, but my hands were shaking every time I thought about it.

***

On Saturday we met on a corner downtown. They arrived first. Sofía wore a long burgundy dress that clung to her hips; Mariela wore a black dress to her ankles and her hair tied up like when she wants to kill me. Damián and I, both in jackets without ties, as if we’d coordinated.

At first each one stayed with their own partner. I was on Mariela’s arm, Damián holding Sofía. But by the second street we couldn’t stick to the script anymore. Damián let go of his wife, went over to Mariela, and put an arm around her waist with the ease of someone who’s been doing it for years. Without thinking too much, I did the same with Sofía.

Walking toward the restaurant, Damián whispered something in my wife’s ear that made her laugh in that deep way she only lets out when something really interests her. A few meters later, they were already kissing between traffic lights, like teenagers with permission. I lowered my mouth to Sofía’s neck and bit where her perfume was strongest. She gave a quiet laugh and pressed my hand against her hip, very close to her ass.

Later, on another stretch, Mariela and Sofía walked together for quite a while. Out of the corner of my eye I saw them kissing, unhurriedly, one hand of my wife at Sofía’s nape and the other sliding down to squeeze a breast over the dress. I had to look at the ground to avoid standing stock-still in the middle of the sidewalk with a hard-on.

Dinner was an excuse. We ordered the quickest things on the menu and drank slowly. We talked about nonsense, but our hands weren’t on the table, they were underneath. Sofía slipped her hand into my fly ten minutes in and took my cock out of my briefs with a calm that left me breathless. She worked me under the table while looking my wife in the eyes and asking about her job. By the time the bill came, my shirt was stuck to my back and a drop of precome had stained my pants.

At the theater, darkness fixed everything. The play didn’t matter. Damián, sitting to my left, slid his hand to my thigh without a word. He left it there for a good while, as if giving me time. I stayed still, eyes fixed on the stage, trying to sort out what I was feeling. It was a broad, steady hand, different from the ones I knew. I didn’t pull my leg away.

When he moved a little higher and squeezed my cock over my pants, I discovered something I hadn’t expected: my body responded before my head did. My dick got hard as a rod under his palm. And my head, instead of fighting, shrugged and said, “Okay.” Damián pulled my zipper down with two fingers and took me out right there in the seat, hidden under the program. He started jerking me off very slowly, his thumb sliding over the glans, and I had to bite my lip not to let out a moan in the middle of the second act’s drama.

On the other side, I could hear Mariela’s breathing turn ragged, and out of the corner of my eye I saw her with her hand inside Sofía’s dress. I didn’t need to look any more than that.

***

We left the theater hot enough that we couldn’t hide it. In the taxi to their apartment we were already all mixed together. I was kissing Sofía with two fingers inside her pussy beneath the dress, feeling how soaked she was; Damián had his face buried in my wife’s cleavage and she was pressing his hand against his crotch, feeling the hard bulge in his trousers.

The apartment was big, with a bay window overlooking the city lights. Sofía poured four glasses that nobody ever finished. The jacuzzi was in a separate room, with dim lighting and the temperature already set, as if they’d planned everything. We undressed shamelessly. Mariela and I work out, yes, but Sofía and Damián looked sculpted. Damián’s cock hung thick and heavy between his legs, his balls tucked up tight; Sofía’s tits stayed firm, her brown nipples already hard with arousal. It was a little infuriating and a little hunger-inducing.

In the hot water, the last of what was left broke apart. Hands didn’t ask before touching. Mouths went from one face to another. Sofía straddled me and licked my neck with unbearable slowness while rubbing her wet cunt against my cock, not quite taking me in yet. In front of me, Mariela was sitting on the edge of the jacuzzi with her legs open and Damián kneeling in the water, eating her out with the concentration of a man who knows what he’s doing. My wife threw her head back, gripping the marble edge, and let out short moans I recognized as the ones from the beginning.

I didn’t know where to look and looked everywhere at once. Sofía took my hand and brought it to her mouth. She sucked two fingers slowly, looking at me, then guided them to her ass. I slid them in while she kept rubbing against my cock. Within a minute she was moaning with her mouth by my ear.

—Fuck me already —she whispered—. But first you obey the rule, remember?

We got out of the water onto a wide, low platform they’d prepared with towels and cushions. Sofía gently pushed me so I’d lie on my back. Before climbing on top, she guided my hand back to her pussy and rubbed herself a couple of times with my fingers, so I could feel her open and hot. Then she bent down, took my cock in her mouth all at once—down to the root, no gagging, swallowing me with a technique that blinded me for a second—and climbed back up. She sat down slowly, guided me with her hand, and started moving up and down, holding my gaze, squeezing my cock with those muscles that seemed to have a life of their own.

Behind us, Damián went over to his wife and took her by the hips. Mariela stayed sitting on the edge, watching, biting her lip, one hand between her legs.

—Come here —Sofía said to my wife without stopping riding me, and pointed to the wardrobe at the back—. There are harnesses in there. Pick the one you like best and take advantage of the fact that my husband is well positioned. He loves it up the ass.

Mariela looked at me for a second, searching for something in my face. What she saw was enough. She came back with a harness and a good-sized black dildo that, honestly, made me a little jealous. She buckled it on with the ease of someone who had spent years not knowing she knew how to do that. Damián got down on all fours next to us, braced on the platform, and offered his ass to my wife with an obedience I’d never seen in anyone. Sofía handed Mariela a bottle of lube.

—Use plenty. And start slow, even if he asks for fast.

Mariela poured a stream between his cheeks, coated the dildo, and guided it with her hand. When he felt it opening him, he let out a deep moan I hadn’t expected, a macho grunt from a man who’d just had control taken from him. And I, underneath Sofía, watched out of the corner of my eye as my wife went in and out of that man with an expression I’d never seen on her before. A mix of concentration and small triumph. Mariela’s hip thrusts were syncing with mine upward, against Sofía’s cunt. The four of us were breathing to the same rhythm.

Sofía leaned over me without stopping and kissed me with her tongue deep inside.

—You okay? —she asked.

—Better than I thought —I answered, hands clenching her ass, helping her come down harder against my cock.

—Wait until you try my husband’s ass —she whispered—. It’s tighter than any pussy.

***

We changed positions a couple of times. At one point I ended up sitting on the big sofa, with Damián on top of me, facing away. Mariela had left the harness aside and now it was my turn to fulfill the toll. I’d spent more than an hour preparing myself for that moment and, when it came, it was no longer the insurmountable wall I’d imagined that afternoon. Sofía knelt between our legs and slathered my cock with lube, never taking her eyes off me, giving the glans a slow lick just before guiding it to her husband’s ass.

—Very slowly —she told me—. Let him open on his own.

Damián pushed his hips downward and I felt the ring give way, little by little, until my cock slid all the way in. It was hot, tight, unlike any pussy. Damián let out a long gasp, his head thrown back over my shoulder, and started moving on his own, going up and down on my shaft with a rhythm he set himself. I grabbed his waist with both hands and started fucking him from below, still not fully able to believe what I was doing.

Mariela and Sofía circled around us. My wife sat facing me, straddling Damián’s legs, and asked him to put his fingers in her pussy. Damián started doing it, three fingers all the way in, while I kept thrusting into him from behind. Sofía knelt beside us and licked whichever one of us she felt like: she ate Mariela’s tits, sucked Damián’s balls as soon as he exposed them, licked my mouth.

At some point in that tower of bodies, Sofía got Damián off my cock, set him free, and guided me toward Mariela’s cunt. She wanted my wife free so she could eat her herself. Mariela lay back on the platform, I slipped between her legs and drove my cock into her in one single thrust. She was so wet I slid all the way to the bottom. Sofía straddled Mariela’s face and lowered her pussy to her mouth. Damián lay down beside them and watched, masturbating slowly.

What came next was one of those long minutes that stay engraved in your memory: Mariela with her eyes closed, Sofía’s tongue in her pussy and her own in Sofía’s at the same time, my cock in and out of hers faster and faster, and me trying not to come too early so I wouldn’t ruin the picture. I grabbed one of my wife’s tits and pinched her nipple between my fingers, and she arched her back against the floor.

Mariela came with a muffled cry against Sofía’s cunt that probably woke more than one neighbor. I’m not exaggerating. I felt her whole pussy clench around my cock, a series of spasms that almost dragged me down with her. She went limp, laughing, covering her face with both hands like a little kid who’d just gotten away with something.

I couldn’t hold out much longer. When I was right on the edge, Sofía pulled me out of Mariela with an expert movement, turned around, took my cock to her mouth, and finished me off. I drove in two, three times against the back of her throat and came in spurts inside. She didn’t swallow it all: she held some of my semen in her mouth, turned toward Damián, and kissed him, passing my load from tongue to tongue. Damián kissed her right after, shameless, sharing. Mariela came over to the party without being invited, slipped her tongue between their two mouths, and the three of them passed my cum from mouth to mouth until they decided the game had gone on long enough.

After that it was Damián’s turn. Sofía and Mariela took care of him between laughs, giving each other instructions, laughing at the noises. They laid him on his back and took turns sucking him: while one ate his cock, the other licked his balls, then they switched. Sofía sat on top and rode him for a few minutes, then gave way to Mariela, who climbed on and turned her back so I could watch from the sofa as my wife’s pussy swallowed another man’s cock whole. Damián came inside Sofía at the end, and the two women ate each other the semen that dripped down between his legs. I sank into the sofa with a drink I no longer remembered ordering and watched my wife discover that she liked watching too, and eating, and sharing.

***

The four of us ended up in bathrobes, sitting on the living room floor, eating olives that Damián took out of the fridge. There was none of the awkward silence I’d feared on the terrace. Quite the opposite: we talked nonsense, made fun of one another, made plans to do it again.

We got home at dawn. In the taxi, Mariela rested her head on my shoulder.

—You okay? —she asked.

—I feel weird —I answered—. But weird in a good way.

She smiled without opening her eyes.

—Me too.

We kept seeing Sofía and Damián. Not every week, not even every month, because all four of our schedules are a mess. But when we match up, we know exactly what we’re going for, and we go home with that strange feeling of having shared something you don’t talk about at any family dinner.

What did change was everything else. Mariela and I stopped avoiding conversations. We stopped assuming what the other one wanted. Our bed at home started having surprises again, not because there was someone new in it, but because after that night there were no forbidden topics between us anymore. And that, in the end, turned out to be the real toll Sofía and Damián charged us. One I paid gladly.