The filthy bet my husband and I couldn’t stop making

I’d never told anyone this, and I still don’t really know why I’m writing it now. I suppose I need to get it out of me. It really happened, a few months ago, and ever since then I haven’t been able to look at Adrián the same way. Nor at his friend, truth be told.

We’d been together for nearly eight years and, like all couples, routine had moved into the house without asking permission. It’s not that we had gone cold. It was more that we knew everything about each other by heart, and that, sometimes, kills more than arguments do.

That night we were coming back from dinner with some friends. We’d had just enough to drink to loosen up, talking too loud and laughing at any old nonsense. We parked in the underground garage of our building, that cold place with buzzing neon lights and the smell of rubber and damp.

—Didn’t you say you wanted to do something filthy sometime? —Adrián blurted out as he switched off the engine—. Well, here we are. Now. Without thinking too much about it.

I looked at him sideways, half laughing.

—What are you plotting, baby?

—We get out of the car —he said, and there was nothing joking in his voice anymore—. You get on your knees between two cars and suck me off right there. Like when we were dating and didn’t have a place.

My God, it had been ages since we’d played at something like that.

—Fuck, Adrián, that’s intense —I said, but I could already feel the tingling sliding down my stomach—. Go on. Don’t be a coward.

That phrase had always been our undoing. “Don’t be a coward.” With that, we both knew there was no turning back.

***

We got out of the car, trying not to slam the doors. The garage was silent, except for the flicker of a half-dead fluorescent tube in the distance. We slipped into the gap between our car and the neighbor’s van from the fourth floor, that shadowy corner where the light didn’t quite reach.

I knelt on the cold cement. I felt the rough scrape on my knees and, instead of bothering me, it turned me on even more. I unbuttoned his trousers with slightly trembling hands, lowered the zipper, and took him out with a mixture of urgency and hunger that left my mouth dry. He was hard, hot, already throbbing against my fingers. I took him by the base and brought him to my face, looking up from below as I watched his jaw tighten, how he held his breath so he wouldn’t moan.

I started slowly, running my tongue over the head, tasting the salty flavor of his skin and the strong smell of his erect cock, which hit my nose all at once. I traced the underside, the frenulum, and he let out a muffled hiss, bracing one hand against the low roof of the van so he wouldn’t make a sound. I sucked him with hunger, taking him in and out of my mouth with a rhythm that got filthier and filthier, hollowing my cheeks, slobbering over everything, feeling him brush my throat when I took him a little deeper. Every time I moved, the concrete scraped my knees, and that tiny pain made me more animal, more alert to his broken breathing and the tension in his thighs.

I did it ravenously. With that mix of haste and kink that only shows up when you think someone could walk in at any second. Every distant echo, every engine starting on another level, sped up my heart and pushed me to keep going. I licked his balls, held them in my hand while I took his cock back into my mouth, and he leaned forward, already trembling, his face twisted with pleasure.

I had forgotten what this felt like. The adrenaline of doing something forbidden, the sense that the whole floor could split open and expose us. We’d spent so long fucking in bed, with the door closed and the lights off, that I had forgotten how good it felt to take a risk. There, between the cold cement and the heat of his body, I felt like the twenty-something girl again who used to sneak off with him into any corner.

Adrián lasted less than I expected. Just when I could tell he couldn’t take any more, he gently pushed my head away and came over my face, holding himself against the side of the van so he wouldn’t lose his balance. I felt the hot load spreading over my cheek, chin, and mouth, and I stayed on my knees, breathless, my chest rising and falling while the last drop slid down to my lip.

—You liked that, huh, slut? —he murmured out of breath, with that crooked smile I know so well.

—You have no idea how much —I answered, wiping the corner of my lips with a finger and tasting myself, his cum still stuck to my skin.

—Wait, don’t clean yourself yet —he stopped me, grabbing my wrist—. We’re doing something else. And if you do it, I’ll give you the best cunnilingus of your life. I swear.

I raised my eyebrows. I knew him too well not to smell that he had something up his sleeve.

—I’m going to move the car and wait for you upstairs, by the elevator door —he explained, pulling up his trousers—. If you cross the entire garage to get there without wiping your face, you win.

—And what do I win, besides your tongue? —I asked, pretending to think about it, even though I’d already decided.

—Whatever you want.

—On one condition —I said, getting up and brushing the dust off my knees—. You clean all of this off with your tongue. From my face and then down there. Don’t skip a thing.

—Deal —he laughed—. Straight from the face down below. Come on, count to twenty.

***

Adrián got in the car and backed out, and I started walking through the middle of the garage with my face a mess and an idiotic smile I couldn’t wipe away. I felt exposed and powerful at the same time, both things mixed together in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

Halfway there I saw, far off, a couple with two little kids getting out of a station wagon, loaded down with bags. I quickly detoured between the columns to avoid them, ducking my head, holding back a nervous laugh. My heart was racing. If they see me like this, I’ll die.

I thought I’d made it when, suddenly, I heard my name bouncing off the concrete walls.

—Carla! Carla! CARLAAA! Are you deaf?

My blood ran cold. I knew that voice. I turned slowly and there he was: Rubén, Adrián’s best friend, the one who had always sold us as “the most innocent little couple in the group.” He was leaning on his motorbike, helmet under his arm, staring at me wide-eyed.

—Fuck, you’ve really gone deaf —he said, walking over—. I’ve been calling you since the ramp. What… what’s on your face?

I wanted the ground to swallow me. I felt the heat climbing from my neck to my ears.

—Fuck, how embarrassing —was all I could manage, half covering myself with my hand.

Rubén stood there for a second, looking at me, processing it. And then he got it all at once, and his face went from confusion to a huge grin.

—I can’t think of any elegant way to pretend I didn’t see that —he said, bursting out laughing—. Look at you two, filthy little freaks. And you seemed like such angels when we met you. So what was the bet, then?

I don’t know why I told him. Maybe because I had nothing left to hide, standing there in the middle of it with the evidence on my face.

—That I crossed the garage without wiping it off —I muttered—. And then he cleans me with his tongue. From my face all the way down.

—You two are textbook perverts —he said, delighted—. Go on, there are bathrooms in the lobby. Fix that before someone else sees you.

—You’re right. We’re the worst —I admitted, already looking for the exit.

—No, wait —he cut in—. If you stop now, you lose the bet.

—What?

—You were winning. It’d be a shame to lose over something stupid.

I looked at him, not understanding where he was going with this. He stepped toward me, set the helmet down on the motorbike seat, and lowered his voice.

—Get on your knees —he said.

***

—What the hell are you on about, Rubén? —I answered, laughing from sheer tension, not knowing if he was serious.

—Do it —he insisted, and there was something in his tone that left no room for joking—. You’re going to do the filthiest thing of your life. But relax, I’m not going to touch you. You have my word.

—And then why do you want me on my knees?

He didn’t answer. He put a hand on my shoulder, not squeezing, just enough that the question became pointless. And I, who could have stepped away, who had a thousand reasons to step away, didn’t. I let myself sink onto my knees again, onto the same cold cement, my heart about to burst out of my chest.

What happened next took seconds. Rubén unbuttoned his trousers, lowered the zipper, and pulled out his cock, thick and hard, with a calm that made me even more embarrassed than everything else put together. I watched it throb in front of my face, sticky at the tip, and he positioned himself right in front of me without touching me, just close enough for the heat to hit my lips. He kept his word: he didn’t touch me even once. It was me who opened my mouth, me who licked the tip slowly, me who circled the head with my tongue while he let out a low groan and forced himself to stay still. He told me, in a low voice, to keep going, not to stop, to do it properly, and I, red with shame and completely turned on, obeyed.

I sucked his cock on my knees, looking up at him from below, tasting the sour, salty flavor of a man who wasn’t Adrián. I grabbed the back of his trousers to pull him a little closer, even though he still wasn’t really touching me, and I started moving my head with more rhythm, taking him as deep as I could, making that wet, obscene sound that bounced off the garage walls. His eyes were fixed on me, dark and focused, with a smug bastard’s smile that made me clench my jaw harder as I licked him.

—That’s it —he murmured—. Fuck, Carla, like that.

I kept going, dirtier than ever, feeling saliva run down my chin, my tongue getting tired and my cunt throbbing with pure arousal. Every time I took him into my mouth, he breathed faster; every time I pulled him out, I watched his stomach tighten. He didn’t touch me once, but he didn’t need to: the way he looked at me, the way he let me use his mouth in the middle of that dark garage, was enough to leave me shaking.

When he started to tense, I felt it right away. His thighs shook, his hand clamped down on the motorbike helmet, and he let out a more broken groan. I pulled back just a little, and he came over my face again, hot and rough, staining my chin, my lips, the tip of my nose. He stayed like that for a second, watching me remain still, my knees dug into the cement and my breathing all over the place.

—If I were you, I’d claim the prize —he said while he straightened his clothes, as if nothing had just happened—. Whatever Adrián promised you for crossing the garage, this is worth double. It’s a lot filthier, admit it. And tell Diego too, so he doesn’t think I’m lying.

He got on the motorbike, put on his helmet, and winked at me before starting up and disappearing up the ramp, leaving me on my knees, trembling, with my mouth full of his taste and no idea whether I was furious, aroused, or both at once.

***

I went up in the elevator with my eyes fixed on the floor, praying not to run into anyone else. Adrián was waiting for me on the landing, leaning against the wall with that triumphant smile, ready to congratulate me on winning the bet.

—I told you there were no balls and look —he began, and then he got a proper look at my face, and the smile froze—. Wait… is that…?

I stayed quiet for a moment, deciding in a split second what I was going to tell him and what I would keep forever. In the end I just held his gaze.

—You wanted something filthy —I said, walking past him to put the key in the lock—. Well, today was the day. Without thinking.

I didn’t tell him about Rubén that night. It took me weeks to tell him, and when I did, instead of getting angry, he went quiet, looking at me with an expression I had never seen on him before. Since then, every time we go down to the garage, we both know exactly what we’re thinking, even if neither of us says it out loud. And, why lie, it still burns inside me when I remember it.