The Fantasy My Wife Confessed to Me After the Company Party

Camila always surprised me with her confessions late at night, when we’d already had a couple of drinks and the apartment’s silence turned complicit. I’m twenty-six, she’s twenty-five, and we’ve been married for four years. We work together at a small consulting firm that advises clients in the logistics sector, and among those clients there’s one we have a particularly good relationship with. Every December they invite us to their year-end party, and this year was no exception.

The week before the party, Camila had been quieter than usual. One night, while I was drying her hair after her shower, she spoke to me in the mirror.

—I want us to stop fantasizing this time and actually do it.

I knew exactly what she meant. We’d been turning over the same idea for months: her, tipsy and surrendered, other men on top of her thinking she was sleepy, me watching from a corner while two foreign cocks used her as they pleased. We’d never gone beyond verbal play in bed —those whispers where I described to her how they’d fuck her while I made her come with two fingers inside— but that “let’s do it” carried a different weight. I looked at her in the mirror and nodded. She smiled.

—If the opportunity comes up at the party, don’t let it pass you by —she said—. I’ll take care of the rest. I want to feel two dicks in the same night. And I want you to see it.

All right.

The dinner was in a rented hall in the south of the city. Round tables, mariachi at eleven, too much red wine. At our table we were seated with two couples we knew by sight from previous meetings: Hernán and Carolina, both around forty, and Andrés with his girlfriend Daniela, who must have been around thirty-five. Hernán was the kind of man who ages well: tall, quiet, with just the right amount of beard. Andrés was more expressive, one of those who laugh loudly and touch your shoulder when they talk.

Camila had put on a short silver dress, strapless. I know her well enough to know she didn’t choose that dress by accident. Her shoulders were bare and her hair was tied up in a low bun that left her entire neck on display. Every time she walked past toward the bar, Hernán’s and Andrés’s eyes followed her as if they had magnets in them, fixed on the round ass the silver fabric outlined.

—Pass me the plate, love —she said at one point, and as she leaned toward me, her neckline dipped a couple of inches. Hernán lowered his eyes to his glass with the slightest smile. I saw it. Camila saw it too, and in the process made sure he got a full view of her tits: small, firm, without a bra, her nipples pushing against the silver lining.

We danced. We drank. We danced some more. Carolina, Hernán’s wife, wore herself out with the champagne and by two in the morning she was already calling an Uber. Daniela also said she had to get up early. The couples started leaving, but Hernán and Andrés stayed on without their respective women. Alone. With us.

—Let’s go have the last drink somewhere else —Andrés suggested.

Camila squeezed my hand under the table.

We ended up at a rooftop bar three blocks from the hall. Low music, violet lights, the kind of place designed to stretch the night out without you noticing. We ordered another round. Camila sat between the two men and I took the seat across from them, watching. She drank slowly, but exaggerated every gesture. She laughed with her head thrown back. She leaned in to speak in Andrés’s ear and brushed his arm. When Hernán poured for her, she lifted her glass and gave him a silent toast that was more invitation than politeness. At one point she crossed her legs and the dress rode up almost enough to show her thong; neither of them even pretended not to look.

I knew she wasn’t anywhere near drunk. Camila handles alcohol well, and that night she had paced herself at dinner. But the two men in front of me saw a young woman, light, laughing too much and letting herself be touched too much. They saw exactly what she wanted them to see: a woman on the verge, ready to be fucked by whoever had the nerve to try.

—Your wife is gorgeous —Hernán said to me when he came back from the bathroom.

—I know.

—Doesn’t it bother you how she laughs with us?

I looked him straight in the eye. I didn’t answer, but I let my silence stretch long enough for him to understand. Hernán lowered his eyes to his beer and nodded very slowly, like someone who had just received an answer without words.

***

At three-thirty in the morning, I announced it was time. Camila had “gotten heavy” —according to my version— and I needed to take her home. Andrés asked if I had a way back and I said the car was fine. Hernán then suggested that he and Andrés follow us “to make sure we got there.” He said it with a new smile, a smile that hadn’t appeared all night. I nodded.

In the car, now alone the two of us, Camila gave a low laugh.

—They’re coming.

—They’re coming.

—Then you know —she told me, glancing sideways at me—. I’m going to be asleep.

—Until when?

—Until you say no. They can do whatever they want to me. Put their cocks wherever they can think of. Fill my mouth. I won’t wake up until you allow it.

I put my hand on her thigh while I drove and hiked up her dress. Her thong was soaked. I ran two fingers over the fabric and she let out a short moan that she swallowed by pressing her lips together.

—Look at you —I told her.

—I’ve been like this since Hernán looked at my tits at the table.

We live in a gated community, so I opened the gate from the phone app. They followed behind us in another car. Camila was already barefoot in the hallway of the building, with her heels hanging from one finger and her dress half-raised, like an actress entering a scene. Before reaching the bedroom she took off the dress in one gesture, let it fall to the floor, and threw herself faceup on the bed wearing only a black thong. She closed her eyes. Long breaths. A smile that disappeared instantly.

I know her. I know when she’s faking sleep. I knew that night she was more awake than ever, with her cunt throbbing and her stiff nipples giving her away.

When Hernán and Andrés knocked on the door, I greeted them with three cold beers waiting on the living room table. We talked for five minutes as if nothing were happening. Hernán asked where the bathroom was, I told him, and as he passed he looked —because he had to look— at the open bedroom door.

—She’s out cold —I said when he came back out.

—Poor thing.

—Poor nothing. She’s enjoying herself even asleep.

I said it loud enough for Camila to hear. I saw her left big toe move. Just a blink. My signal.

Hernán stayed standing in the bedroom doorway. Andrés got up from the couch and came closer from behind. Both of them watched Camila breathing slowly, her chest rising and falling, those small firm breasts she loved showing off under tight necklines. The black thong left the wet bulge of her cunt visible, and her barely parted legs promised that with the slightest push they’d open all the way. I sat in the bedroom armchair, opened another beer, and crossed my legs.

—She’s asleep —murmured Hernán.

—Sound asleep.

—And if...?

—And if nothing. She’s my wife. But if she doesn’t find out, then she doesn’t find out.

Hernán turned to search my eyes for confirmation. I gave him a gesture with the beer, a tiny nod.

—Slowly —I added—. And if anything happens, stop. Fuck her well. She deserves it.

***

Andrés was the first. He came up to the bed and knelt at the edge. He ran the palm of his hand over Camila’s thigh, from knee to hip. Camila didn’t move. His palm kept going to her stomach. Up to her breast. He brushed a nipple with his thumb and the nipple turned to stone at once. Andrés bit his lip and took her whole breast in his hand, squeezing it, kneading it without any gentleness. He bent down and caught her nipple between his lips, sucking hard, then nibbling it. Camila breathed a little deeper, almost gasping, but kept her eyes closed.

Hernán sat down on the other side of the bed. He took Camila’s hand and kissed her fingers one by one. Then he lifted her wrist to his mouth and licked her palm. Camila’s hands were warm and wet, the hands of someone who knows she’s being watched. Hernán ran his free hand over the other breast, searching for the nipple he’d missed, and pinched it slowly until my wife let out a sigh that both of them understood for what it was.

Andrés kept going down with his hand, passed her navel, reached the elastic of the black thong and stopped there. He waited.

—Go ahead —I said.

Andrés slid his fingers under the elastic. He stroked over it, very slowly, testing the swollen lips. Camila was drenched and the two men noticed at once. Hernán made a barely audible sound, a low “mmm,” almost of discovery. Andrés parted her cunt lips with two fingers and sank them in slowly to the knuckles. He pulled his shining fingers out, dripping, and brought them up to Hernán’s face. Hernán sucked them without thinking, one after the other, savoring them like candy.

—She’s fucking delicious —Hernán murmured, his voice rough.

—Taste her with your tongue.

Hernán didn’t need to be told twice. Together they pulled down the thong, each from one side, and slipped it off over her feet. Camila breathed as if she were dreaming something else, but she spread her legs an extra inch, enough to invite them. Hernán settled between her thighs and buried his face in my wife’s cunt. He started sucking her with hunger, licking her whole slit from bottom to top, stopping at the clit to suck it with tightly pressed lips. Andrés had her tits in his hands, squeezing them, licking them. Camila was about to break character, I could see it in the tension in her toes.

Andrés took off his shirt, then his pants. Hernán stood up from between Camila’s legs with a shiny mouth and undressed too, clumsier from the alcohol and the rush. When they pulled down their boxers, I saw Camila open one eye a millimeter, look at the two cocks standing in front of her, and close it again with a smile only I understood. Andrés had a long, curved one. Hernán was shorter but much thicker, with a broad purple head.

I passed a condom to Andrés. He put it on with slightly trembling hands. He climbed onto the bed, opened Camila’s legs carefully —as if he really were going to wake her— and settled between them. He ran the head of his cock over her cunt lips once, twice, three times, soaking it. Then he sank in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until his pelvis hit hers. Camila let out a soft sigh that anyone would have mistaken for sleep. I knew how to read her sigh. It was the one she makes when she’s filled properly and likes it.

Andrés moved at a slow cadence at first, like a man who doesn’t want to wake a sleeping girl but isn’t going to stop either. He fucked her in long thrusts, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself to the hilt again. His cock came out shining each time, coated in the juice he was drawing from my wife. Hernán held one of Camila’s legs up, kissed her ankle, sucked on her toes. She has small feet and Hernán seemed obsessed with that detail. Every so often he looked at her face as if waiting for a reaction, and when he found none, he got bolder: he shoved two fingers in her mouth, pulled them out wet, rubbed them over his own cock, and went back to playing with her tits.

—She’s wetter than any awake woman —Andrés muttered, picking up speed—. It’s running off her. Look how it’s running off her.

—That’s how she is —I answered—. Fuck her harder. She won’t wake up.

Andrés sped up. The thrusts started sounding wet, heavy, each hip-to-hip crash accompanied by a splash from my wife’s soaked cunt. Camila imperceptibly tightened her muscles, milking him from the inside. I knew it because she did that to me all the time. Andrés couldn’t hold out much longer and it showed on his face.

—Switch —said Hernán.

Andrés withdrew reluctantly, his hard cock shining inside the condom. Hernán put the condom on with more resolve this time, lifted Camila’s legs onto his shoulders and entered. He was thicker than Andrés and I saw Camila’s shoulders tense for a millisecond before relaxing. A sleeping woman doesn’t tense like that. A woman faking sleep and knowing she’s about to take something thicker does. Hernán started fucking her rough from the outset, without Andrés’s gentleness, driving all the way in with each thrust. The bed creaked. Camila’s tits bounced with every blow. A short moan slipped out of her and she disguised it by turning it into a long sigh.

—She’s slipping —Hernán said, smiling.

—Keep going —I told him—. Even if she wakes up, don’t stop.

Andrés went around the bed and came to the headboard. He was bare now, his cock hard against his stomach. He brought the tip near Camila’s mouth. He rubbed it gently against her lips, smearing a drop of pre-cum on them. She opened her mouth just a crack, like a reflex, and Andrés slid it in a little. Camila’s tongue moved. Only that. A minimal movement, but it happened. Andrés pushed farther in, carefully, and my wife started sucking it without opening her eyes, her mouth loose but her tongue working over the glans. Andrés grabbed her head with both hands and started fucking her mouth at the same rhythm Hernán was using to fuck her cunt.

—She’s taking the whole thing —Andrés panted.

I had finally taken my pants down and was jerking off in the armchair, watching everything. My cock was harder than it had been in years. Hernán was thrusting with increasing rhythm, his balls slapping against my wife’s ass, sweating over her. Andrés was moving deep in my wife’s mouth, one hand on the back of her neck so she couldn’t pull him out. Camila —who was “asleep”— kept her eyebrows perfectly relaxed, as only someone paying attention to every detail can, but I could see her throat moving every time Andrés shoved it all the way in.

Hernán let go of her legs, flipped her face down with a quick motion and lifted her hips to get her on all fours. Camila let herself be handled like a doll, eyes still closed, ass perked up and cunt dripping between her legs. Hernán entered her from behind again, gripping her hips, and fucked her at a savage pace. Andrés didn’t move from the headboard; he kept his cock in her mouth, and Camila —still “asleep”— was strung on both ends, rocking between the two men with every one of Hernán’s thrusts.

—Like that, like that, like that —Hernán muttered through his teeth—. That ass. Look at that ass.

He slapped her ass. Camila tightened her cunt around him in response and Hernán let out a growl. He slapped her again. He left the mark of his hand on her left cheek. Andrés pulled his cock out of her mouth and rubbed it over her face, over her lips, over her cheek, leaving strings of spit and pre-cum hanging from her chin. Then he pushed it back in all the way.

***

Hernán came first. He drove in three more times in a row harder and pulled out just in time, yanked the condom off, turned Camila faceup again and emptied himself over my wife’s stomach and tits, thick strands of semen falling from her navel to her throat. Andrés pulled out of her mouth at the same time, stood beside the bed, jerked himself with both hands using her saliva and came too, a long jet that landed on her left thigh, another on her shaved pubis. Both of them were panting, looking at her covered in other men’s cum as if they had just stolen something and still couldn’t quite believe it.

Camila —asleep— had a tiny smile trembling at the corner of her mouth.

—Thank you —Hernán murmured, and I couldn’t tell whether he was speaking to me or to her.

I passed them a towel. They cleaned my wife’s stomach with clumsy, almost respectful hands, as if they had just finished using something borrowed. They dressed in silence, almost embarrassed, like two guests who had stayed too long. Hernán paused at the bedroom door before leaving.

—If she ever finds out, tell her we’re sorry.

—She won’t find out —I told him.

They left. I locked the apartment door with the deadbolt and went back into the bedroom. Camila still had her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling, her stomach shining under the lamp’s low light and traces of semen still stuck between her tits. I sat on the edge of the bed and ran my hand over her forehead.

—They’re gone now.

She opened her eyes. Slowly. They were wet but bright. She smiled as if she had just won something.

—Tell me it lived up to it —she asked.

—It lived up to it.

—Tell me you enjoyed it too.

—You have no idea how much.

—I still have them inside me. Both of them. I can still feel Hernán’s thick cock pushing into me, and Andrés’s in my throat. Did you feel it too?

—I felt it.

She ran two fingers over her stomach, gathered up what semen was left on her and brought them to her mouth without taking her eyes off me. She sucked them slowly, one by one. Then she reached for my cock with her hand and found it just as hard as when she was watching it fuck.

She sat up, climbed on top of me and sat with her legs on either side of my hips. She was hot and still wet from the double session, and I still needed to finish. She lowered her hand, guided me inside her, and let herself drop all the way down in one single motion. Her cunt was making noise from how full it had been left. She moved slowly on top of me, grinding my cock with her hips, squeezing me with those trained muscles she let two strangers wreck.

—It’s looser —I told her.

—It’s used —she smiled—. You like it like that?

—I love it like that.

—Fuck me hard. Finish inside me. I want to go to sleep with the three of our loads mixed together.

I grabbed her by the waist and flipped her onto her back in one motion. I opened her legs wide and drove in all the way. Her cunt made a wet, obscene sound, and she gave a little laugh with her mouth against my ear. I started fucking her hard, without rhythm, the way I’d been wanting to for two hours, while she dug her nails into my back.

—I felt both of them —she gasped into my ear—. Andrés’s filled me completely. Hernán’s opened me up too much, it hurt a little, and I liked that it hurt. And when they had me on all fours and they were using me from both ends I thought I was going to come without being able to hide it.

—I saw you clench your ass.

—I almost broke character. I almost asked them for more.

I drove into her harder when I heard that. She clung to my back, bit my shoulder, squeezed her cunt around my cock and came at last, with no pretending at all, screaming in my ear while she dug her heels into my ass. I followed a few thrusts later, emptying myself inside her to the last drop, adding myself to what the other two had already left on her stomach and in her mouth.

I collapsed on top of her, panting. She kissed me with her mouth still tasting of Andrés and ran her tongue over my lips.

—Next time —she whispered— I won’t pretend. Next time I’ll take them in with my eyes open. I want Hernán to fuck me in the ass while Andrés fucks me in the cunt, and I want to look you in the eye while they split me in two.

I held her waist and felt her tighten once more around me. I thought the next company party was going to be a very long one.