The Morning My Friend’s Husband Was Left Alone with Me

After that furtive rush in the water, something twisted inside my head and there was no way to set it straight again. That very night my boyfriend Diego fucked me like he hadn’t fucked me in months, and I let him do anything, because every time I closed my eyes it wasn’t him I saw. I asked him to cum on my face, to shove it in from behind, to squeeze my tits until they hurt.

Diego thought that night I was inspired by him. I played along, but all the while I was thinking about Mateo, about his mouth, about what he had done to me among the plants while the others slept through the afternoon.

The next day I couldn’t focus on anything. Every time he and I crossed paths in the kitchen or the hallway we found a way to brush against each other. An arm against an arm, a hello kiss that lasted a second too long, a long look over the wine glass while the others talked about anything at all. Tiny things, imperceptible to everyone else, but each one struck a new match inside me.

On the third day at the rented house, the opportunity appeared on its own. Camila, my best friend, was in the mood to go on the Mirador hike, a long walk to a waterfall that I couldn’t be bothered with. Diego, always eager, said he’d take her. And then Mateo, with that calm way he has when he lies, said he’d rather stay behind, that he was going to use the morning to get the barbecue ready, so when they got back everything would already be set and we could jump in the pool without having to think about cooking.

No one suspected a thing. Camila kissed Mateo on the cheek and thanked him. Diego kissed my forehead and promised they’d be back by noon. The hike plus the drive took almost three hours. Three whole hours of the house just for us.

As soon as I heard the truck’s engine fade away down the dirt road, I went to the bedroom and put on the tiniest bikini I’d brought: two triangles of fabric tied with strings. The back was a thong that disappeared between my ass cheeks. The front barely covered what it had to. I looked at myself in the mirror and felt shameless. That was exactly what I wanted to feel.

I went out to the garden and lay down on the lounger beside the pool. There was no need to say it. I knew he was going to come out, and he knew I was waiting for him.

It took him ten minutes. Ten minutes that felt like a century to me. When I saw him appear on the terrace, barefoot, in swim shorts and no shirt, I felt my heart try to climb out of my chest. He was walking slowly, looking at me from afar, and I spread my legs just a little on the lounger, as if by accident, so his eyes would fall where they were supposed to fall.

—Do you like what you see? —I asked when he reached the edge of the lounger.

—I’d never seen you in that bikini before —he answered, and his voice came out hoarse.

I stood up slowly, turned all the way around, and looked at him again. The bulge in his shorts gave him away before he opened his mouth again.

—You drive me crazy, Sole —he murmured.

He knelt in front of the lounger, grabbed my hips, and made me lift my pelvis a little. He moved the thong string to one side, unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world, and buried his face between my legs. He started kissing and licking me without saying a word. His tongue went all over me, played with my clit, went down to my ass, pressed there with the tip as if asking permission.

—Lick me all over, Mateo —I moaned—. Make me come like this.

He sucked me like a hungry dog while with one hand he took off his shorts. When I lifted my head he was already naked, his cock rock hard and pointing upward.

—You’re a filthy slut, Sole —he told me between licks—. What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve ever done in your life? Tell me while I lick you all over.

I closed my eyes. I pressed his head against me. I gave him the only true answer that crossed my mind in that moment.

—Fuck the husband of my best friend. While my boyfriend still doesn’t know a thing.

I said it feeling his tongue probing my ass and his fingers squeezing my nipples through the fabric. And I exploded in the first orgasm of the morning, a short electric one that made my whole body curl in against his mouth.

***

Mateo straightened up, turned me over on the lounger, and kissed me on the mouth with a force I hadn’t felt from him before. His tongue still tasted like me. I grabbed his cock with both hands and started jerking him off, slowly at first, then fast, feeling every vein, every pulse. He kneaded my ass and shoved a finger in, then two, then three. I bit his lower lip and whispered filth in his ear.

I felt like the dirtiest woman in the world, and that lit me up even more.

I got down from the lounger, knelt on the grass, and pressed my face to his cock. I smelled it all over before putting it in my mouth. I ran it over my cheeks, my nose, my lips, smearing myself with his juices. That smell of man, of hot cock, drove me insane.

—Were you dying to suck it, Sole? —he asked, his voice breaking—. Suck it all, don’t hold anything back.

And I sucked, licked, smelled, pumped him with my free hand, desperate. When I felt him tense up, when I knew he was about to cum, he tried to pull it out of my mouth. I didn’t let him. I grabbed his ass, shoved his cock in as far as I could, and pressed my lips tight. I felt the hot spurts hit my throat one after another, thick, abundant. I swallowed almost all of it. I let the last spasms spill onto my lips and licked them as if they were honey.

When I looked up at him from below, my face still smeared, his eyes were glassy and his breathing broken.

—I don’t want to stop —I told him.

—We’re not going to stop —he answered.

***

He took my hand and led me inside. The living room sofa was long and low. He pushed me down until I was lying on my back, yanked off my bikini, and spread my legs. I put my feet on his shoulders so he could get in deep. His cock, which had gone soft just a little, turned rock hard again in a matter of seconds. When he shoved it into me in one stroke, I arched all over.

—Fuck me, Mateo —I begged on a gasp—. Fuck me hard, like a whore.

He obeyed. He started pounding into me with brutal rhythm, his hands dug into my thighs, his jaw clenched. The sofa creaked. My moans filled the living room. The air started to smell like the two of us. At times he stayed inside and moved in circles, rubbing my clit with the base of his cock, and I lost track of everything.

I lowered my legs and wrapped them around his waist. I dug my heels into his ass so he could get even deeper. He kissed my mouth, bit my neck, sucked on my nipples one after the other, alternating, leaving my skin wet with saliva. I pressed myself against him, grabbed him with both hands, and had a second orgasm, long and deep, the kind that hurts a little.

Mateo wanted to keep going. His cock was still hard and his eyes were wild. But I put a hand on his chest and whispered something I’d been thinking since the day before.

—I want you to fuck my ass —I said—. I want Camila’s husband to fuck his best friend’s girlfriend from behind.

—You’re a nasty little thing, Sole —he said, and laughed softly, without joy.

I turned over on the sofa, my knees sunk into the cushion, my face resting on the backrest. Hiked up, open, offered. Mateo knelt behind me. He licked me all over again, this time shamelessly, and then he started working his fingers in. One, two, three, up to the knuckles. I had been ready for ages, but I let him do it because I liked the way he prepared me with that twisted care.

—You’re so open, Sole —he told me, and his voice trembled—. It turns me on.

When he finally shoved his cock into me, he did it in one go, until his balls hit my pussy. He gave me no respite. He started hammering me with all his body weight, slamming my pelvis against my ass, gripping my hips to keep me steady. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even moan properly. I could only make animal sounds, chopped up, that mixed with his.

—You like it like that, Sole? You like it when I shove it all the way in? Open it, open it wider.

—Yeah, come on, all of it, put it all in, fuck my ass good —I answered as best I could, my face smashed against the backrest and a thread of saliva dripping from the corner of my mouth.

While he fucked me from behind, I touched my clit with two fingers and fantasized that Diego was there, watching, his cock out, forcing me to suck it while his friend was tearing me apart from behind. It was a filthy, twisted fantasy, and it made me clench my ass and thighs until I felt Mateo give one last hard thrust and empty himself inside me with a long moan that came from deep in his chest.

I came at the same time. A dry, hard orgasm that left me shaking for several seconds. I felt the spasms of his cock emptying inside my ass and I smelled my fingers smeared with myself like a happy animal.

When Mateo collapsed over my back, exhausted, and his cock started to shrink and slip out on its own, he managed to put his hand underneath to catch everything that began to drip out. He reacted just in time. Otherwise the sofa would have been ruined.

***

I wanted to stay there, melted against him, but there was no time. Before going to the bathroom I ran my tongue over the palm of his hand, sucked the remains of his own semen off it without taking my eyes off him, and then I slid two fingers into my still-wet cunt and put them in his mouth for him to lick clean.

—I’m going to shower —I told him—. I’m leaving you this taste as a gift.

I trotted off to the bathroom, still laughing at how much of a slut I felt. Mateo went into the other bathroom and, when I came back to the garden in another, more ordinary bikini, he was already lighting the barbecue fire. As if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t emptied himself inside me twice in less than an hour.

Diego and Camila arrived when the chorizo was already starting to brown. Camila told us about the whole hike, photo by photo, delighted. Diego kissed my temple and asked if I’d been bored alone. I told him I’d read for a while and gone into the pool. Mateo moved the coals in silence, without looking at me, but every now and then he brushed my hand when I handed him a plate.

No one suspected a thing. That was the first time I slept with him. It wasn’t the last. And never, not once, am I going to call what we did making love. We fucked. We fucked like two treacherous friends who knew they were dirty on the inside, and that, exactly that, was what lit me up the most every time we found ourselves alone.