The Bet Neither of Us Should Have Accepted

The night started the way all the nights you end up not quite regretting start: with Natalia telling me it was going to be amazing and that nothing was going to happen.

That last part should have been my clue.

She called me on a Thursday late in the day to tell me she’d met two guys at the gym. Coworkers at a private security company, she said. Both of them hot and up for going out. One was named Marcos, and he was the one who’d talked to her. The other was Rodrigo.

—He’s quieter —she explained while we were getting ready in her apartment—. But when you see him, you’re going to fall flat on your ass.

I put on a green dress that came to mid-thigh, convinced myself it was just a girls’ night out, and forgot to ask the mirror any questions.

Marcos picked us up in a dark sedan, polished to perfection. He had that smile of someone who knows exactly the effect he has. Rodrigo was in the front passenger seat and greeted us with a brief nod, no affectation, half greeting and half appraisal. Natalia was right. I fell flat on my ass.

We went into a downtown club without waiting in line because Rodrigo knew the guy at the door. Inside there was music, lights, expensive drinks, and that particular feeling that the night could end any way at all.

Marcos knew how to dance. Natalia found that out with the first song and never let him go after that. I stayed at the bar with Rodrigo, who ordered drinks without asking and didn’t need the music to feel comfortable in his own body. We talked about work, about travel, about nothing important. It was one of those conversations where what you say matters less than the way the other person looks at you while you’re talking.

—Are you always this direct? —I asked him after the second drink.

—Only when I have something to say —he answered, with a half smile that never quite opened all the way.

It didn’t bother me. I could already feel my cunt getting wet under the dress, and nothing bothered me.

***

Natalia’s ex showed up close to midnight.

I don’t know how he found her. He was a man in his forties, tie loosened and too much alcohol in his system, and he came in saying her name in a tone that didn’t promise anything good. Natalia went rigid beside me. I looked for Marcos, but it was Rodrigo who moved first.

He stepped between the man and us with a calm that was more intimidating than any sharp gesture. He didn’t raise his voice. He exchanged two sentences with the guy, with that same economy of words he always had, and the man hesitated, looked around as if weighing his options, and finally left.

Just like that.

Natalia let out the breath she’d been holding.

—I need another drink —she said.

—We need two —I corrected her.

Marcos ordered them before we could get to the bar. He sat down next to Natalia, said something in her ear that made her laugh, and just like that the atmosphere went back to what it had been before. Rodrigo looked at me from the other end of the bar with an expression that wasn’t exactly a question, but I answered it anyway.

—Thanks —I said.

—No need —he replied.

***

It was Marcos who suggested the apartment. It was already two in the morning, the club was starting to empty out, and the four of us had that particular energy that mixes alcohol with the desire for the night not to be over yet.

—Rodrigo’s apartment is close —he said—. And there’s good whiskey.

—And a lot of order —Rodrigo added.

—Obsessive? —I asked.

—Pretty much —Marcos confirmed, with a smile that promised something.

I don’t know why that detail seemed charming to me. We got into the car.

In the back seat, Natalia and Marcos were already acting like they knew each other from before. She had her head on his shoulder and he had his arm around her back with that ease of someone taking exactly the space that belongs to him. I looked at the city through the window and tried not to think too much about the fact that Rodrigo had rested a hand on my knee when he started driving, without asking if I minded. The hand slid up slowly, fingers spread over the inside of my thigh, and when his thumb brushed the edge of my panties I realized I was soaked.

I had minded in exactly the right way.

***

The apartment was everything I’d imagined: immaculate. The books lined up on the shelf, the glasses arranged in the kitchen as if waiting to be used, the surfaces without a speck of dust. There was something slightly uncomfortable about that perfection, like walking into a museum at night.

Rodrigo filled four glasses with a whiskey that smelled expensive and I sat down on the leather sofa trying not to dirty anything.

—You’re very stiff —he said, sitting down next to me.

—I’m afraid of messing something up —I answered.

He smiled. It was the first time I’d seen him really smile, eyes included, and I understood that Natalia had underestimated me with her description.

***

Marcos found the cards on the coffee table, perfectly aligned. He picked them up with that spark of someone who recognizes an opportunity where others would only see a deck of cards.

—Strip poker —he said, shuffling, not bothering to make it a question.

Natalia and I looked at each other. We excused ourselves for a moment and went out onto the balcony. The cool night air brushed our warm skin and the drinks on us.

—They’re insane —I said quietly.

—They’re insane and we’ve been staring at their hands for two hours —Natalia replied—. If we win, we get to watch them sweat bullets. If we lose... —she shrugged, with that smile of hers that has nothing innocent about it—, the punishment’s not so terrible, is it? I’d fuck Marcos right here against the glass.

—Filthy mouth.

—So do you. It’s written all over your face that you’ve wanted Rodrigo on top of you for two hours.

I didn’t answer because she was right. I looked back inside through the glass. Rodrigo was standing in the doorway, arms crossed, with that posture of his, like he never needs to say anything to say it all.

We went back in.

—We’re in —I said—. But deal already.

***

The first hands were slow and a little absurd. Marcos lost his shirt in the second round and took it with such natural ease that Natalia had to look away, although I saw her swallow hard. I took off my shoes. Natalia removed her belt with a calculated slowness that clearly wasn’t accidental. Rodrigo didn’t lose anything in the first four hands, and I was beginning to suspect that wasn’t accidental either.

—You’re cheating —I told him.

—I’m good at this —he replied.

He lost on the fifth hand anyway. He took off his shirt with the same economy of movement he used for everything, and what was revealed was enough for me to need another long drink before I could focus on the cards again.

The game picked up from there. The cards mattered less and less. What mattered was the space shrinking between the bodies, the way Marcos brushed Natalia’s fingers when he handed her the cards, the way Rodrigo looked at me when I pretended to study my hand very carefully.

I lost my dress on a hand I honestly didn’t try to win. I ended up in my bra and panties on the leather sofa and felt all four eyes on me. Natalia lost her blouse shortly after, with a laugh that sounded like relief, and her tits were hard against the lace. The two men were in their underwear almost at the same time, in a round I don’t think anyone was really trying to win. Marcos already had his cock pushing against the fabric of his boxer briefs, no attempt at hiding it. Rodrigo was just as hard, thicker than I’d imagined, and he held my gaze while I looked at him.

—I think the cards have served their purpose —Rodrigo said, setting the deck on the table with that gesture of his, like he considered the matter closed.

He stood up and held out his hand to me. I took it.

***

With Rodrigo everything was slow, even when it shouldn’t have been.

He laid me back on the sofa and took his time. His hands ran over my body with an attention I wouldn’t have expected from someone so sparing with words. He kissed my neck, my shoulder, my collarbone. He took my bra off in one motion and stayed looking at my tits before lowering his mouth. He sucked one nipple, then the other, biting just enough, and I arched my back against the leather and let out the first moan of the night.

—Tell me if you want me to stop —he murmured against my skin.

—I’m not going to want you to stop —I answered—. Don’t stop.

He didn’t stop.

He took off my panties with his teeth, slowly, dragging them down my thighs, and when the fabric slid over my soaked cunt he made a low sound, almost a growl of approval. He spread my legs with both hands and stayed there for a second, looking at me, open and wet for him, before lowering his head.

The first lick was long, flat, from bottom to top, and it made me grab the back of the sofa with both hands. The second went straight to the clit, with the tip of his tongue, and that one tore a moan out of me that echoed through the whole living room. He knew what he was doing. He sucked, he licked, his tongue went in and out of my cunt while his thumb circled above, and I started moving my hips against his face without being able to control it.

—Just like that, Rodrigo, just like that, don’t stop, please —I begged him, my voice hoarse.

He slid in two fingers, curved, searching for that spot very few people find on the first try, and he found it. He made me come with his mouth on my clit and his fingers inside me, and I screamed without caring who was listening. My legs trembled against his shoulders and he didn’t ease up until I pushed him by the hair.

—Come here —I told him—. I want to suck your cock.

He straightened up and pulled down his boxer briefs. His cock sprang out hard against his belly, thick, the tip already shiny. I knelt on the sofa and took it in my hand first, weighing it, and then I took him into my mouth as far as I could. I heard him let out his breath sharply. I sucked the tip, licked the whole vein underneath, took him back into my mouth and felt him hit the back of my throat. Rodrigo grabbed my hair with one hand, not forcing, just setting the rhythm, and I looked up at him from below while I sucked him off.

—Enough —he said, panting—. Enough or I’m coming in your mouth right now.

—Inside —I told him, letting him go with a wet sound—. Fuck me.

He threw me back onto the leather, spread my legs and got on top. He dragged the tip through my cunt, soaking it, and then pushed in one firm movement all the way to the base. The first moment was so intense I had to bury my face in his neck not to make too much noise, but almost immediately the noise came out of me anyway. His hips kept a deliberate rhythm, each movement deeper than the last. His cock all the way inside, pulling out almost to the tip, then pushing back in to the hilt. I heard the wet sound of every thrust against my soaked cunt.

—Harder —I begged in his ear—. Fuck me harder.

He grabbed one leg, lifted it onto his shoulder, and buried himself in a different angle that made me see lights. I heard him breathing next to my ear, heard his breath growing more uneven with every minute, and that made something in my chest tighten in a way that wasn’t just desire. I dug my nails into his back and felt every muscle in him tense.

On the other side of the living room, Natalia and Marcos had their own rhythm. I heard her panting with that particular sound I know from years of friendship and had never heard in that context. I lifted my head a little over Rodrigo’s shoulder and saw them: Natalia on all fours on the rug, Marcos behind her fucking her mercilessly, holding her by the hips with both hands. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open, and at one point she turned her face and looked at me, and we held each other’s gaze while we were being fucked. It wasn’t awkward. It was simply what it was.

—Look at her —Rodrigo whispered in my ear without stopping—. You like seeing her like that, don’t you?

—Yes —I admitted, voice broken.

—Say it.

—I like watching him fuck her.

Rodrigo growled against my neck and sped up.

***

I don’t know when the four of us ended up in the same space.

It was gradual, it was natural, it happened without anyone suggesting it out loud, as if the logic of the night had decided for us before we could have an opinion. Natalia and Marcos moved closer to the sofa without stopping touching each other, and at some point she ended up lying beside me, still breathing hard, and reached for my hand. I squeezed it.

—You okay —she said, more statement than question.

—I’m okay —I answered.

She found my mouth with hers and kissed me there, with both men watching. It was a slow kiss, with tongue, the taste of whiskey mixed with something else. I felt Marcos’s hand squeezing one of my tits from behind Natalia, and Rodrigo’s hand sliding down between her legs, and somewhere along the way I lost track of whose hand belonged to whom.

Rodrigo sat on the edge of the sofa and I climbed on top of him, facing him. He grabbed my waist and guided me until his cock entered me again, this time more slowly, letting me lower myself to his rhythm until I was fully seated on him. I started moving, up and down, and he was sucking my tits while I fucked him. I felt Natalia moving behind me and then Marcos’s hand on my back, pushing me just a little forward against Rodrigo’s chest, and Natalia’s tongue running down my spine until it disappeared between my ass cheeks.

—Jesus Christ —I murmured against Rodrigo’s shoulder.

Marcos was fucking Natalia behind me while she licked me, and I was fucking Rodrigo in front, and everything was one single thing moving all at once. I remember Natalia’s hands in my hair when she came back up. I remember feeling both men’s bodies simultaneously, in a layering that at first felt overwhelming and then was simply what it was: four people in the same space, each surrendered to the same thing. We moved with that strange sync desire has when nobody is thinking about anything else.

I came for the second time sitting on top of Rodrigo, with Natalia’s mouth on mine and Marcos’s fingers playing with both our clits at the same time. I screamed into my friend’s mouth and she swallowed the scream and gave me hers back a few seconds later.

—I’m about to come —Rodrigo warned, gripping my hips.

—Not inside —I begged—. On my tits.

I got down and knelt on the floor. Natalia knelt beside me without anyone telling her to, and Marcos stood behind her jerking himself off with his hand covered in Natalia’s own juice. The two men came almost at the same time, Rodrigo over my tits with a contained growl, Marcos over Natalia’s face and neck with less restraint. My friend and I looked at each other, covered in cum, and both started laughing softly.

The living room fell silent. The glasses half-finished on the table. The deck of cards still perfectly aligned because Rodrigo had left it that way.

I lay there staring at the ceiling for a while, listening to the four of us start breathing normally again.

***

I fell asleep without meaning to and woke up with sunlight slipping through the blinds. Natalia was asleep beside me, her hair messy and that peaceful face she has when she’s really asleep. Marcos was snoring softly on the side couch.

Rodrigo was standing by the window with a coffee mug in his hand, looking outside.

—How long have I been asleep? —I asked.

—A little over two hours —he said—. There’s coffee in the kitchen.

He didn’t ask how I felt. He didn’t make that awkward comment some men make afterward, like they need you to absolve them of something. He just offered me coffee.

I accepted.

***

When I got to my apartment that morning I showered for a long time. Not out of guilt: out of that particular ritual of marking before and after, of putting new skin on something that still didn’t have a completely clear name. I could still feel Rodrigo’s cock inside me when I closed my eyes under the water.

Natalia sent me a message at three in the afternoon: just a smiling emoji and nothing else. I replied with the same one. Weeks passed before we talked in words, and when we did it was to laugh about strip poker and Marcos’s face shuffling the cards with that conviction that everything had been planned from the beginning.

It probably had been.

Marcos wrote to both of us the following week. He suggested seeing each other again. Natalia asked me what I thought.

I told her I still didn’t know.

That wasn’t a lie.