The Night I Put Myself on Display at the Club for My Husband

Hello everyone. I’ve wanted to tell this for a long time and never had the nerve, but today I sat down with a glass of wine and decided to write it exactly as it happened. Let’s see what you make of it.

My name is Camila and I’m a young woman who takes pretty good care of herself. I go to the gym almost every day, I like tight clothes, and above all, good lingerie, the kind that shows more than it covers. Since I was a girl I enjoyed feeling desired, although for years I only dared to do it virtually. I had a profile on one of those platforms where I uploaded photos in my underwear, and it was pretty popular. Knowing I was being watched by strangers kept me turned on, receptive, my pussy soaked before I even got home, wanting to give myself to my man. My husband was the happiest of all about that. Who wouldn’t like having a wife beside him who feels sexy and who comes to bed dripping?

I need to make something clear so it makes sense. I didn’t upload those photos for money or likes. I did it because the thrill of knowing that on the other side there were men looking at me, imagining me, jerking off with my face on the screen, lit me up like nothing else. I’d turn off the phone, look at Mateo asleep beside me, and wake him by slipping my hand into his briefs, grabbing his cock already hard in his sleep, climbing on top of him before he had time to ask anything. It took me a while to confess to him where those urges came from. When I did, instead of getting upset, his eyes lit up and that same night he fucked me against the bathroom sink while he kept repeating in my ear, “my slut, my slut.”

What I never imagined was how far that habit would take me.

A few months ago Mateo, my husband, started insisting on a new idea. He wanted me to show myself in public, not behind a screen. At first I was embarrassed, I told him he was crazy, how could he even think of that. But he knew how to talk to me in my ear, he knew how to describe the scene until embarrassment mixed with something else. Something hot and nervous that climbed up my back and went straight down to my cunt.

—Imagine all those guys staring at you, with their cocks hard under their pants, and not being able to touch you —he’d say—. And you knowing that at the end of the night I’m the one who’s coming to fuck you.

I shouldn’t be getting this turned on by this, I thought. But I got so turned on that many nights, while he was describing it to me, I’d end up with his fingers sunk in my pussy and my mouth open against the pillow so as not to wake the neighbors.

One night we had a party and got ready to go out. I had a couple of tequilas while I was getting dressed and, with the warmth of the alcohol running through my body, I decided that this was the night. I pulled from the drawer a satin blouse with tiny, almost invisible straps. Mateo asked me to skip the bra and, after hesitating a second in front of the mirror, I went along with it. My nipples stood out hard beneath the fabric, two dark points anybody with eyes would notice. I put on a short light-blue denim jacket, one of those that ends above the waist. Below that, a miniskirt that barely covered my ass. Underneath, a string thong wedged between my cheeks and a garter belt holding up a pair of black satin stockings. To finish it off, stiletto heels that made my legs look even longer.

I didn’t just look good. I felt powerful. And wet. I was already wet before leaving.

Mateo opened the front door for me to leave and, as soon as I walked past him, he gave my ass a slap. A sign of approval. In the car he never let go of my legs the whole way, sliding his hand a little higher each time, until he slipped two fingers under my thong and pulled them out shining with how soaked I was. He brought them to his mouth without taking his eyes off the road.

—You’re such a bitch —he said, smiling—. And we haven’t even arrived yet.

I had to ask him to stop or we weren’t going to get anywhere.

***

We got to a club I’d never been to. From the entrance I noticed how the men turned their heads to look at me. It made me a little embarrassed, so I hooked my arm through Mateo’s to make it clear I wasn’t alone. Even so, I caught several of them with their mouths slightly open, following me with their eyes as if they’d never seen a woman before. I suppose with the sway of my hips the skirt showed the edge of the thong and the tops of my stockings. I’m not going to pretend to be modest: I have a round, firm ass thanks to all that exercise, and that night I was showing it off in full.

Once inside, Mateo went to get the drinks and I stayed alone at the edge of the dance floor, moving slowly to the music. The guys passing by undressed me with their eyes. I could feel them going over every inch, pausing on the tits loose under my blouse, dropping to my ass and staying there. That scared me a little. And made me very wet.

Maybe I dressed too provocatively, I thought. But at the same time I felt a tingle in my belly that wouldn’t let me stay still, and I knew that if I ran my hand down between my legs I’d find my thong soaked through.

Seeing me alone, they started coming up to me. Some just said hello shyly. Others offered me a drink or asked me to dance. And the boldest ones leaned in for a second by my ear as they passed to whisper some filthy little compliment, the kind that makes you blush and smile at the same time. One told me he wanted to eat my pussy right there. Another slid a hand around my waist as if by accident and left it a second too long over the curve of my ass. I was nervous, yes, but also so turned on I could feel the heat running down my thighs.

What really set me off was spotting Mateo. From the bar, with a drink in each hand, he was watching the whole scene with a wicked smile. He wasn’t jealous. He was fascinated. I smiled back and moved a little more, this time for him, inviting him over.

When he came close he handed me the tequilas and I threw them back at once. The alcohol finished loosening me up. We started dancing pressed together and I could feel my skirt riding up every time he grabbed my waist, leaving my ass on display for everyone. I saw them almost drooling when we spun, but it didn’t bother me anymore. On the contrary. Mateo had the face of a boy who’d just been given the best present, and his rock-hard cock pressing against my hip made it very clear that all of this had him even hotter than it had me.

—Look how they’re looking at you —he whispered in my ear, biting my earlobe—. They all want to fuck you. They all want what’s mine.

I pressed harder against his bulge and rubbed my ass against him slowly, letting him feel exactly how far my excitement went. He lowered one hand and, hidden between our bodies, slid it under my skirt. He ran two fingers over my soaked thong and let out a rough little laugh.

—You’re dripping, baby. These sons of bitches have you dripping.

***

They put on something faster and we kept dancing, now with even more hunger. The turns were surely showing even more than I wanted, but modesty had gone to sleep a long time ago. Since there were several couples on the floor, every so often I brushed against or bumped into someone. I felt more than one hand pass over my ass, squeeze one cheek and let go quickly, and some body press against mine from behind with a concealed erection grazing me. I preferred to blame it on chance. The truth is it didn’t bother me at all. The truth is each anonymous hand raised the temperature between my legs another degree.

There was one man in particular who couldn’t take his eyes off me. Tall, short beard, leaning against a column with a drink in his hand. He didn’t come over, didn’t say anything. He just watched me dance with a calm that made me more nervous than all the others put together. Every time I spun I found him there, waiting, as if he had all the time in the world. At one point I held his eyes for a second too long and felt my mouth go dry while my pussy flooded again. I imagined him ripping my thong off with one pull, kneeling me down, forcing me to suck his cock right there against the column, with the whole club watching.

I pressed myself against Mateo and spoke into his ear.

—There’s one guy who won’t stop looking at me.

—I know —he answered, amused—. I’ve been watching him for a while. He’s holding himself back, the guy. You like him?

I didn’t answer him. I was afraid of what I might say if he heard the truth. Instead I turned around in his arms, gave him my back and kept dancing against him, letting the bearded man take in the whole image: my ass rubbing against my husband’s fly, his hands squeezing my tits over the blouse, my nipples standing out like two bullets. Mateo gripped my hips with both hands, dug his fingers into my flesh, and I felt his hot laughter against my neck.

—You’re getting as hard as I am, look —he whispered—. And you, with your thong in a complete mess. You’re my favorite slut.

Later we went to the bathroom. The women’s room was full, so I had to wait in a narrow hallway. There the men coming and going pressed into my body more than they should have as they passed. One blatantly rested his hand on my hip to “ask permission.” Another brushed by in front of me and I felt clearly the bulge against my hip. Maybe that’s why they call it a “powder room,” I thought, and laughed to myself.

Between how turned on I was and the tequilas, my head started building a movie. I imagined one of those strangers cornering me against the hallway wall, lifting my skirt, yanking my thong off in one pull and putting his tongue in my pussy without a word. I imagined him licking me from bottom to top, sucking my clit until my knees shook, while I grabbed his head and pressed it against my crotch. Then, without giving me time, he’d turn me around, press my cheek to the cold wall and drive his cock all the way in with one thrust. In the movie he had a short beard and smelled like that dark drink. I felt myself getting wet beyond control, so much I noticed the little stream running down the inside of my thigh. I had to clench my legs and breathe deeply so I wouldn’t lose my composure in the middle of the line.

What was most disturbing wasn’t the fantasy itself. It was realizing that if Mateo had shown up at that moment and told me, “Go on, he’s waiting for you in the men’s bathroom, open his pants and suck him off,” I don’t know if I would have said no. And that doubt, that one single doubt, scared me as much as it turned me on.

When I finally came out, I couldn’t take it anymore.

—Let’s go home —I told Mateo, grabbing his shirt and grinding my hand against the bulge over his pants—. I need your cock now.

He didn’t need to be told twice. We paid and left almost running.

***

As soon as we crossed the front door at home I launched myself at him. I tore his shirt open, popping two buttons, and shoved him against the hallway wall. I kissed him like I wanted to eat him, sucking his tongue, biting his lip, while I fumbled with his belt. I pulled down his pants and boxers in one yank and his cock sprang free, thick, red, throbbing from having held back all night.

I knelt right there on the entryway tile, not caring about the skirt or stockings. I grabbed his cock with both hands and took it into my mouth all the way to the back. I heard him moan above me, holding my hair, guiding my rhythm. I sucked him like a desperate woman, letting my mouth fill with spit, spitting it onto his glans, sucking his balls, swallowing him whole again and again until tears sprang to my eyes.

—Slut —he said—. Beautiful slut, that’s how all those guys wanted to see you, like this, with my cock in your mouth.

He pulled his cock out of my mouth with a pop, yanked me upright under the arm and spun me to face the wall. He hiked my skirt up with one swipe, that skirt so many had wanted to lift that night, and literally tore my thong off, ripping it at the side. I heard him suck in his breath when he saw the state I was in.

—Look at you, Jesus. You’re flooded.

He ran two fingers through my slit from top to bottom, gathering all the juice, then put them in my mouth so I could taste myself. I was trembling against the wall, ass raised, satin stockings shining under the hall light, begging him under my breath to put it in already.

—Fuck me, Mateo, please, fuck me now.

He drove it into me in one stroke, all the way, with no preamble. I screamed against the wall. He started fucking me hard as hell, both hands clamped on my hips, thrusting so forcefully I could feel his balls slapping my clit with every stroke. The hallway wall shook with each impact. I braced myself with my palms flat, pushing my ass back to take him better, and listened to his animal grunts each time he buried himself all the way in.

—You liked being looked at, huh? You liked being the whore on the dance floor? —he growled, slapping my ass between thrusts—. Tell me you liked it.

—Yes, I liked it, I loved it, keep going, keep going, don’t stop.

He pulled out, turned me around and lifted me in his arms. He slammed me back against the wall, holding me by the ass, and fucked me again like that, in the air, while I dug my heels into the backs of his thighs. I bit his shoulder so I wouldn’t scream, felt every inch of his cock going in and out, the wet sound of my soaked pussy swallowing him whole. He looked me straight in the eyes, very close, and I saw in him the same face as the man by the column, the stranger from my fantasy, all the guys who had undressed me with their eyes that night. They all merged into one.

I came like that, with my legs locked around his waist, squeezing his cock inside me with spasms that shook my whole body. A rough cry slipped out against his neck. He held on a few seconds longer, fucking me mercilessly while I came apart, until he yanked out suddenly, lowered me to the floor and forced me to kneel again. He slapped his cock twice across my face with his hand and filled my mouth, lips and tits with hot, thick cum, panting my name as if his life depended on it.

It was intense, angry, unlike anything we’d done in a long time. I loved every second of it.

Afterward, lying on the bed catching our breath, with our skin still sticky, I confessed what had crossed my mind in the bathroom line. I told him the fantasy about the stranger against the wall, the guy licking me first and then fucking me, expecting him to laugh or get jealous.

What he said left me speechless.

—And if next time —he said slowly, stroking my back while he ran his tongue over a nipple still sensitive— you pick one of those guys, suck him off in front of me and let him put it in you while I watch?

I stayed silent for a long while, my heart pounding hard and my pussy, incredibly, starting to throb again. I didn’t know what to answer.

For me, up to now, all of that was nothing more than a fantasy. I think that night was my biggest adventure. But I’m no longer so sure where my limit is. Maybe I’ll do it again someday. And who knows if, with a few too many tequilas and Mateo watching me, I won’t dare to kneel in front of a stranger and open his pants with my teeth.

For now, I’ll leave it here. Thanks for reading.