The Night My Husband Asked Me to Be Unfaithful

The envelope arrived at reception ten minutes before she was due to go live. Marina discovered it when she went up to her dressing room to touch up her lipstick, before the evening news. Her assistant had left it on the vanity, beside the glass of lukewarm water she always asked for before going out onto the set.

—A courier brought it —the girl said with a shrug—. He didn’t want to leave a card.

Marina turned the envelope over between her fingers. Thick ivory paper, her name written in black ink in handwriting that seemed to have come from another century. No return address. The red wax seal was still intact.

—Thank you —she murmured, without opening it yet.

She decided to wait until after the broadcast. She had been presenting the eleven o’clock news for twelve years and had never allowed anything to pull her out of her routine before the cameras. That night, however, she read the news with her mind divided in two. One part listed the dead from the latest accident on the highway, the rise in electricity prices, the local team’s victory. The other couldn’t stop thinking about that red seal, intact, waiting for her in the dressing room.

When the closing theme filled the studio, Marina hurriedly removed her microphone and went up the stairs without speaking to anyone. She locked the door, something she never did. She sat down in front of the mirror, broke the seal with her thumbnail, and unfolded the single sheet inside the envelope.

Mrs. Vidal: my son has been watching you on the screen for some time. I am offering you a night with him in exchange for compensation that would ensure your financial security for the rest of your life. Absolute discretion. If you accept, you will find the address and time in this same envelope. Eduardo Sandoval.

Marina left the sheet on the vanity and leaned back against the chair. She knew the surname. Eduardo Sandoval owned the country’s largest telecommunications company, the man whose face appeared from time to time in the salmon-colored pages of the press. His son Sebastián was a regular fixture in celebrity magazines, known for his parties in the mountains and his habit of crashing sports cars.

She wasn’t some naive young girl. She had been offered worse things in twelve years of television. What left her breathless wasn’t the proposal itself, but the heat that slowly rose up her neck as she reread the page. She felt her panties growing wet without having asked for it, her nipples tightening inside her bra, and she had to look away from the mirror so she wouldn’t fully recognize the woman watching her from the other side.

***

She arrived home after midnight. Daniel was still awake in the living room, a hardcover book open on his knees and his glasses slipping down his nose. Marina took off her heels at the entrance and walked barefoot across the parquet until she sat beside him. She handed him the sheet without saying anything.

Daniel read it. Marina watched every one of his gestures. She expected a fist on the table, a dry joke, perhaps that cold voice he reserved for serious confrontations. What she saw was something else: the corner of his mouth slowly lifting, his eyes growing darker behind his glasses.

—Sandoval doesn’t write letters like this to just anyone —he said after a while.

—Daniel.

—Are you afraid?

—I don’t know what I am —she replied—. That’s why I’m showing it to you.

He carefully folded the sheet and placed it on the glass table. Then he put his hand on her thigh, over her skirt, his palm open and his fingers firm. The pressure was calm, deliberate.

—I want you to accept —he said, looking nowhere but into her eyes.

—What?

—I want you to accept and go. Not for the money. For what comes afterward.

—I don’t know what you’re talking about.

—Yes, you do —he murmured, moving his hand a couple of inches higher, sliding it beneath her skirt until his knuckles brushed the lace of her panties—. You’re wet, Marina. You’re already wet just from showing it to me.

She didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. Daniel’s fingers pushed the fabric aside and slowly caressed the lips of her pussy, opening them, sliding through the wetness until one entire finger sank inside without resistance. Marina let out her breath all at once.

—I want you to go, let him fuck you good and hard, and when you come back I want you to get into my bed and tell me about it with his cock still hot between your legs —Daniel continued, almost soundlessly—. I want to know how he puts it in you. How you come. What you say in his ear. I want you to describe it to me while I put mine inside you, word for word.

—Daniel…

—Accept.

Marina nodded slowly, once, then again. Daniel pulled out his soaked finger, brought it to his mouth, and sucked it without taking his eyes off her. Then he kissed her, and Marina tasted herself on his tongue.

—Tell Sandoval to send a car for you —he whispered against her lips.

***

Three nights later, Marina was looking at herself in the dressing-room mirror. She wore a fitted matte-black silk dress that fell to mid-calf and opened in a discreet slit. Beneath it, she had chosen burgundy lace lingerie, a set she had bought that very morning without ever having considered it before. There was almost nothing to the fabric: a thong that disappeared between her buttocks and a balconette bra that lifted her tits to the beginning of her cleavage. When she turned to see her reflection from behind, the mirror showed her a woman who didn’t resemble the news presenter.

Daniel appeared in the doorway with a glass of red wine. He held it out without saying anything, and Marina took a long sip. They kissed slowly, carefully, like people signing a contract.

—Call me if you need to get out of there —he said.

—I’m not going to call you.

—I know. But call me anyway. And don’t wash before you come back. I want to smell him.

Marina nodded without a word and felt that heat between her legs again. The car was waiting for her at the gate. It was black, with tinted windows, and the chauffeur opened the door without greeting her by name. Marina got in without looking back.

***

The hotel was an old building in the city center, a restored mansion that smelled of wax and white flowers. The receptionist escorted her to a suite on the second floor without asking for any information. Marina knocked twice with her knuckles and took a deep breath.

Sebastián opened the door. He was younger than he appeared in the photographs, with the slightly insolent beauty of boys who had grown up without ever hearing the word “no.” He wore a white shirt open to the second button, and his hair was still damp from the shower. He looked her up and down without trying to hide it, and Marina felt his eyes travel over her dress as if they were slowly undressing her.

—You’re taller than you look on-screen —he said.

—Camera angles are deceiving.

—Come in.

The suite was dim, lit only by two table lamps and the white light of the city entering through the picture window. Sebastián closed the door and slid the bolt across with a slow gesture. The sound of the lock fell into the silence like a stone at the bottom of a well.

—I haven’t offered you anything —he said—. Would you like a drink?

—No.

—Better.

He came closer. Marina noticed the scent of clean cologne, sandalwood, and something else, something young she hadn’t smelled in a long time. Sebastián lifted his hand and brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek, with a gentleness that didn’t fit his reputation.

—Why did you come? —he asked.

—Because my husband asked me to.

The young man stood still for a moment, surprised, and then let out a low laugh that vibrated against her neck.

—I like your husband —he said—. I’ll have to invite him to dinner sometime.

He kissed her. Marina thought it would be a rough kiss, the kiss of a boy in a hurry, and she was wrong. Sebastián kissed her slowly, measuring every step, leaving her room to decide when to press her tongue and when to bite his lip. Marina pressed. Marina bit. When they separated, they were both breathing with their mouths slightly open.

—I want to see you —he murmured—. Without this.

He lowered the zipper of her dress down her back in one smooth movement. The silk gave way silently and slipped to the floor. Marina stood before him in burgundy lingerie and heels, her hands at her sides, her pulse pounding in her throat.

Sebastián took a while to react. When he did, he let out a breath through his nose as if he had been holding it since he opened the door.

—Fuck —he murmured—. You look good enough to eat whole.

He ran a hand over her belly, moved up to the balconette bra, and pulled one breast out without lowering the bra, leaving her nipple showing above the lace. He crouched down and sucked it while she stood there, in the middle of the suite, closing his lips around it and then scraping her areola with the tip of his tongue. Marina clutched the back of his neck and felt her knees buckle.

—Come on —he said when he released her, holding out his hand.

***

He led her to the sofa in the center of the suite. He sat down and drew her onto his lap, with his back to the window. Marina braced her knees on either side of Sebastián’s hips and felt the hardness of his cock beneath his trousers, pressing against her pussy through the thong. She began moving on top of him, rubbing herself slowly, searching for the position in which that bulge fit her clitoris best. He bit her collarbone, then the top of her other breast, then her nipple through the lace, while gripping her ass with both hands and pulling her against him.

—You’re beautiful —he said against her skin.

—I’m not some girl your age —she replied.

—That’s why. That’s why fucking you turns me on so much.

He pushed the cups of her bra down with his thumb and took her nipple into his mouth. Marina closed her eyes and threw her head back. Sebastián’s tongue was hot and patient. He licked and nibbled her for an incredibly long time, switching from one breast to the other, leaving them gleaming with saliva. One of his hands slipped inside the thong from behind, spread her buttocks, and traveled down the cleft until it found her soaked. Two fingers entered without resistance. Marina bit her lip to keep from moaning.

—Don’t be quiet —he murmured, lifting his face—. I want to hear you moan like a slut.

And then she moaned. Without shame, without a presenter’s filter, without the polished voice she used in front of the cameras. Sebastián moved his fingers inside her patiently, curling them, searching for the exact spot against the front wall, while his thumb drew slow circles over her swollen clitoris. Marina clung to his shoulders, her feet lifted off the floor, and came in less than five minutes, with a tremor that rose from her calves to her shoulders and made her spit out a hoarse cry against his hair.

—That was quick —he said, amused, pulling out his soaked fingers and showing them to her.

—Shut up.

—It’s a compliment. Look at you.

He ran his fingers over her lips, and Marina opened her mouth without thinking. She sucked her own wetness from his hand, slowly, without looking away from him.

***

She had him lie on his back on the bed. She opened his shirt, undid his belt, and lowered his trousers. Sebastián let her do it, his arms above his head, watching her with a mixture of disbelief and pleasure. Marina kissed his belly, his hip, the inside of his thigh, before pulling down his boxer briefs and revealing the cock that had been pressing against her on the sofa moments earlier. It was thick, hard, its tip already glistening. She wrapped her hand around it and examined it closely before deciding what to do.

She licked it first from base to tip, like someone tasting an ice cream, then ran her flat tongue along the underside of the glans. Sebastián let out a long gasp. Then she took the whole thing into her mouth, as much as she could fit, until she felt it at the back of her throat.

—Marina —he murmured, and that was the first time he had said her name.

He said it as if he were asking permission. She liked that.

She took her time. She pulled it all the way out, licked his balls one by one, ran her tongue over the frenulum, and took him back into her mouth until she gagged a little. Whenever she felt he was about to come, she eased off, let it slide between her lips, and started again from the beginning. She spat on the tip and used her hand to masturbate him while sucking only the glans. Sebastián grabbed her hair, not to force her, but to have something to hold on to.

—Stop —he gasped—. Stop, fuck, I’m going to come and I don’t want to come like this.

Marina released him with a wet pop and climbed up his body until she was straddling him.

—Do you have anything? —she asked.

—In the nightstand.

She took the condom, opened it with her teeth, and put it on him herself, calmly, rolling it all the way down while squeezing his cock with her hand. Then she moved her thong aside without taking it off, took his cock in her other hand, and guided it inside slowly, inch by inch, watching it disappear into her. The moan that escaped that time wasn’t hers; it came from both of them. She felt him fill her completely, pressing inside until he reached a place Marina hadn’t used like that in a long time.

She began moving at a rhythm she set herself, rising and lowering her whole body, pulling him almost all the way out and then impaling herself on him again to the hilt. Her hands braced on Sebastián’s chest, her head thrown back, her tits bouncing in front of his face. Sebastián held her by the hips without imposing anything on her, letting her decide, and from time to time he lifted his head to suck a nipple as it passed.

—Like that —she whispered.

—However you want. Ride me, fuck, ride me any way you please.

Marina came again on top of him, contracting around him, and when she stopped trembling she collapsed forward, panting. Sebastián took advantage of it, turned her over on the bed, and put her facedown. He lifted her hips, moved aside the ruined thong, and thrust into her from behind in a single push. Marina screamed into the pillow.

—Yes —he murmured, grabbing her hair and pulling just enough to arch her back—. That’s how I wanted to see you.

He drove into her deeply, his hips striking her ass, producing a wet sound that filled the suite. Sebastián reached underneath her and found her clitoris again while continuing to fuck her from behind, rubbing it in quick circles.

—Come again —he asked in her ear—. Come with me inside you.

They changed positions once more. Sebastián got on top, his face buried in her neck, biting her and whispering things Marina didn’t want to remember the next day and might perhaps remember forever—that she was hot, that he was going to fill her, that he imagined her husband listening to her tell him all about it. He lifted one of her legs and rested it on his shoulder, then entered her more deeply, more slowly, pulling almost all the way out and plunging back in to the hilt. Marina came a third time with her nails dug into his back, moaning his name. When Sebastián came, he did so with a hoarse growl pressed against her ear, thrusting against the depths while she felt his cock pulsing inside her even through the condom.

They stayed like that for a while, sweaty, their hearts beating in the same rhythm, his cock still inside her and slowly softening.

—Your husband is a lucky man —he said, carefully pulling away and removing the full condom.

—He knows.

***

The car dropped her off at her gated community at dawn. Marina entered the house with her heels in her hand, her feet cold against the floor, her thong tucked into her purse because it was so soaked she hadn’t wanted to put it back on. Daniel was awake in bed, a low lamp turned on and the book abandoned on the nightstand. He watched her come in as if he had been waiting for that moment for hours.

—Come here —he said.

Marina slipped beneath the sheets still wearing the burgundy lingerie, without the thong. Daniel embraced her from behind and kissed the nape of her neck. He slid his hand down her belly and lower, feeling her swollen pussy, still hot, still open.

—You’ve been thoroughly used —he whispered against her hair, his voice thick—. I can tell they fucked you well.

—Daniel…

—Tell me. From the beginning. Don’t skip a word.

She immediately felt that he was hard against her ass, ready, making no attempt to hide it. Marina turned onto her back, and Daniel got on top of her, entering slowly into a pussy that had already belonged to someone else that night. They both moaned at once.

And Marina told him. She told him about the red seal, the black car, the hotel that smelled of wax. She described how Sebastián had pulled her breast out of her bra and sucked it while she stood there. How he had put two fingers inside her on the sofa until he made her come on top of him. How she had sucked him while kneeling on the bed, how she had put the condom on him with her mouth. How she had sat on top of him and ridden him, how he had put her on all fours afterward and fucked her by the hair. She repeated, word for word, what Sebastián had whispered in her ear while he came.

Daniel listened, his breathing growing heavier and heavier, thrusting harder and harder, punctuating every sentence with a roll of his hips. He caught her beneath the knees, lifted them until he folded her legs against her chest, and began entering her to the hilt, punishing her with a slow, deep rhythm.

—Did he come inside you? —he panted.

—In the condom. But I felt it.

—Tell me how you asked him for it.

—I told him to put it in me. I told him to fuck me properly. Just like I tell you.

—Take me —Marina said then, repeating to her husband what she had whispered hours earlier—. It’s yours. Everything he did to me is yours now. Come inside me, Daniel, come inside me; I want to feel you.

Daniel came with a deep sound she had never heard from him before, sinking to the hilt and emptying himself completely inside her. Marina felt her husband’s cock spasming in the same place where Sebastián’s had been an hour earlier, and she came again without touching herself, squeezing him against her with her legs crossed behind his back. When he kissed her, it was a different kiss from the ones before. More profound. Deeper. Tasting of them both.

Marina knew, even before closing her eyes to sleep with her husband’s semen still running between her thighs, that she hadn’t closed anything that night: she had opened something. And there was no way to seal it again.