The Night My Husband Wanted to Watch for Real

It had been a few weeks since my first time with Adrián. I met him at the warehouse where I rent tools for the house renovation, and what started as a silly conversation ended with me on my knees in the back room, his cock down my throat and my panties soaked through, discovering what it was like to be with someone who didn’t hold back. My body still remembered it: the burn at the start when he opened my cunt with a single thrust, the surrender that came after, the way I drove home with my legs still shaking and his cum sliding down the inside of my thigh.

Every time I told Rubén about it in painstaking detail—how Adrián had pinned me against the shelves, how he’d fucked me from behind while I bit my arm to keep from crying out, how he’d made me swallow the last drop of his load—something lit up in him. He fucked me with an intensity I hadn’t known, possessive, repeating my name as if he needed to claim me, driving into me so deep it made my back arch against the mattress.

—You’re mine —he’d say in my ear, his cock buried all the way inside me—. And even so, it drives me crazy imagining another man fucking you.

And I, lost in his hands, with two of his fingers rubbing my clit while he pushed all the way into me, confessed the truth:

—I love that you ask me. I love knowing you imagine it. That you think about his cock inside me while you’re fucking me.

Rubén would groan when I said things like that, and he’d come with a brutal shove, emptying himself in my cunt while he bit my shoulder.

One night, after one of those fuck sessions where we both ended up breathless and the sheets stained with semen and me, Rubén lay staring at the ceiling, still inside me, and let out what he’d been keeping to himself for weeks.

—What if next time I’m there? I don’t want you to tell me about it. I want to see it. I want to watch him fuck you.

My heart gave a jolt. Not because I was surprised, but because I’d fantasized about the same thing without daring to say it. I propped myself up on one elbow and looked him in the eyes, feeling how his cock, still hard, shifted inside me when I changed position.

—Are you sure? There’s no going back after this.

—You arrange it —he said—. I just want to be in the room. I want to see you come with another cock inside you.

***

It took me two days to gather the nerve to call Adrián. When I explained what my husband wanted, there was a long silence on the other end of the line. I thought he’d laugh, take it as a joke. Instead he lowered his voice.

—Does he know everything? Is he really okay with it? Does he know what I did to you last time?

—It was his idea —I replied, squeezing my thighs at the memory—. And yes, I told him everything. How you fucked me against the shelf, how you made me come twice, how I came in your mouth.

—Then tell him to get a good chair —he said, and hung up.

We met on Friday night at our house. I spent the whole afternoon getting ready with a strange calm, like someone dressing for a ceremony. I took a long shower, shaved my cunt until it was smooth, perfumed myself between my breasts and between my legs. I chose a burgundy lace set, thigh-high stockings, heels I didn’t plan to wear for more than ten minutes. Rubén watched me from the doorway, silent, with that mix of nerves and desire that tightened his jaw and made a clear bulge show in his trousers.

—We can still not do it —I told him, more for him than for me.

—I want to do it —he replied—. I’ve spent weeks thinking about nothing else. I get hard every time I imagine his cock going into you.

Adrián arrived on time. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with that calm confidence of someone who doesn’t need to prove anything. We greeted each other in the entryway and the hug lasted a second too long; I felt his hand slide down my lower back in front of my husband, travel to squeeze one ass cheek without any hurry, marking his territory.

Rubén swallowed, but extended his hand.

—Adrián. Thanks for coming.

—Thanks for the invitation —he answered, and the ease in his voice broke all the tension.

***

We sat in the living room and opened a bottle. We talked about absurd things for a while, work, the neighborhood, as if we were three friends. But the current under the conversation was impossible to ignore. Adrián had his hand on my knee, and every few minutes he moved it a centimeter higher along the inside of my thigh, until his fingertips brushed the wet lace of my panties. A half smile slipped across his face when he felt how soaked I was.

Rubén was sitting in the armchair opposite. He wasn’t pretending to read a magazine or looking at his phone. He just watched us, his breathing getting more and more audible and his hand resting on the bulge showing in his jeans.

Adrián turned my face with two fingers and kissed me. It was a slow kiss, without urgency, a question more than an order. I answered by opening my mouth, letting his tongue come in and play with mine. When he let me go, both of us looked at Rubén at the same time. Adrián slid two fingers under the lace and pressed them into my soaked cunt, never taking his eyes off my husband.

—She’s dripping —he said, voice calm—. Do you want to see?

Rubén nodded, speechless. Adrián pulled his shiny fingers out and ran them over my lips before putting them in my mouth. I sucked them slowly, tasting myself, while my husband gripped the arm of the chair hard.

—Keep going —he said in a hoarse voice—. Please.

That word, that “please,” released something inside me. I stood up, let the dress fall, and stood in front of them both in nothing but lace. Adrián looked me over from head to toe, still not touching me, and that pause was more arousing than any hand.

—Come here —he said—. And take your panties off first.

I obeyed. I slid my panties down my legs without bending all the way, letting them both see my shaved, glistening cunt perfectly between my thighs. Rubén let out an audible gasp.

***

I straddled Adrián on the sofa and let him unclasp my bra with one hand. His lips traveled down my neck, over my collarbone, until they closed over my nipple. He sucked it hard, barely biting, while with his other hand he spread my cunt and started rubbing my clit with his thumb. I closed my eyes and moaned, and when I opened them I looked for Rubén. He was still there, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, devouring us with his eyes. He’d unbuttoned his pants and had his cock out, hard, gripped in his fist.

There was something about knowing I was being watched that multiplied every sensation. It wasn’t just what Adrián was doing to me with his hands and mouth; it was the constant awareness of my husband’s eyes moving over my back, my hips, the curve of my waist, the shine between my thighs. I felt desired by two men at once, and that certainty made me dizzyer than the wine.

—You’re gorgeous —Rubén said from the armchair, almost voiceless, stroking his cock slowly—. You have no idea how you look right now, with his fingers inside you.

I smiled over Adrián’s shoulder, moving my hips to feel those two fingers slide in and out of my cunt with a wet, obscene sound. I had never felt so free in front of him.

—Look at me —I asked him—. Don’t stop looking.

Adrián lowered me to the floor gently and stood in front of me. I unbuckled his belt slowly, stretching out every movement, knowing my husband could see everything from his chair. When I pulled down his underwear and his cock sprang free in front of my face—thick, hard, the tip already glistening—I heard Rubén draw a deep breath behind me.

I took it in my hand, held it there in front of my lips for a moment, and turned my head to look my husband in the eyes. Without breaking eye contact, I stuck out my tongue and licked Adrián’s tip, very slowly, gathering the drop shining on his glans.

—Do you see it? —I murmured—. Do you like seeing me like this, with another cock in my mouth?

Rubén nodded, unable to speak. He was moving faster now, his chest rising and falling quickly.

I opened my mouth and took it all the way in, to the back of my throat. Adrián let out a growl and grabbed my hair, not violently, but firmly, setting the pace. I started sucking his cock hungrily, taking him deep into my throat and pulling him out glossy with saliva, then running my tongue along the whole length before swallowing him again. Drool ran down my chin to my tits. Every so often I took him all the way out and licked his balls, looking up at Rubén with teary eyes and a dirty smile on my mouth.

—Take him all the way down —my husband said, his voice broken—. Suck him good.

And I obeyed, letting myself go completely, enjoying the double sensation: the physical pleasure of having that cock filling my mouth and the knowledge that I was being watched by the man I love, who was dying of desire a meter away.

***

After that he lifted me up, turned me around, and bent me over the back of the sofa, facing my husband. He wanted all of us to see. Adrián took his time, kneeling behind me, spreading my ass cheeks with both hands and burying his face in my cunt. He licked me from bottom to top, long and slow, and then sucked my clit until my knees shook. I gripped the back of the sofa with both hands, mouth open against the leather, moaning nonstop while Rubén looked me in the eyes from the armchair.

—She tastes delicious —I heard Adrián say behind me—. Your wife tastes like heaven.

Rubén groaned and gripped his cock harder.

When Adrián stood up, I felt his glans trail along my slit from top to bottom, soaking in my wetness, searching for the entrance. Every second of delay was a delicious little torture.

—Ready? —he asked against my ear, pressing his cock to my opening.

—Yes —I gasped—. Put it in. Please, put it in all the way.

When he finally sank into me in one single thrust, I screamed. It was a long, shameless scream, and I saw Rubén’s eyes go wide without taking them off me. Adrián started fucking me hard and deep, gripping my waist, each thrust tearing a new moan from me and making my tits bounce against the back of the sofa.

—Like that! —I begged—. Don’t stop. Harder.

He drove into me harder, so hard the sofa started to move. I could feel his cock pounding the bottom of me, filling me completely, pulling me out of myself. I could hear the wet slapping of my cunt every time he pushed in and pulled out, and I knew Rubén could hear it too.

—Look at how he’s fucking you —my husband panted, pumping his cock nonstop—. Look at yourself.

Rubén had moved to the edge of the armchair. He was no longer holding back. He kept repeating my name in a low voice, over and over, like a prayer, while he watched me lose my mind on the sofa in our house, impaled on another man’s cock.

—Come here —I said, stretching a hand toward him—. I want you close. I want your cock in my mouth.

He stood up and knelt beside my face. I opened my mouth and took his cock all the way in, while Adrián kept pounding me from behind. Both of them were fucking me at once, one at each end, and I was pure sensation, pure surrender. My moans were swallowed against Rubén’s cock every time Adrián drove his into me to the hilt.

Rubén held my face in both hands and pulled his cock from my mouth to look me in the eyes for the entire orgasm, the first one, the one that shook me from head to toe. I came screaming his name, my cunt clenching around Adrián’s cock, trembling all over.

—I love you —he told me softly, his cock wet with my spit brushing my lips—. You’re incredible.

And there I understood that this wasn’t pulling us apart. It was binding us together.

***

It didn’t end there. We changed positions, I lay back on top of Adrián on the rug and rode him while Rubén watched us standing up, no longer hiding, part of the scene as much as we were. I rode his cock slowly at first, feeling it go in centimeter by centimeter, and then faster, dropping hard onto him, letting my husband see how my ass struck his thighs and how his cock disappeared into me again and again.

Rubén came over and put his cock in my mouth from above, while I kept riding Adrián. Now I had both of them inside me at once, one in my cunt and one in my throat, and every time I lowered my hips I also pushed my husband’s cock deeper into my mouth. Adrián sucked my nipples and squeezed my tits with both hands.

At some point I stopped knowing where one pleasure began and the other ended: Adrián’s hands on my hips, my husband’s cock brushing my throat, Rubén’s gaze nailed to my eyes, all of it pushing me to the limit at once.

I came again, and then again, with an intensity that left me weak. Adrián held out until he couldn’t anymore and asked me to turn around. I knelt in front of him and Rubén, mouth open and tongue out, and let Adrián spray over my face and tits, while my husband came at the same time, splashing my hair and cheek with his hot cum. I felt both loads mixing and sliding down my neck, and I brought my fingers to my mouth to suck them, looking Rubén in the eyes.

After that the three of us lay there, a tangle of legs and slow breathing. No one spoke for a long while. There was no need. Rubén stroked my hair, still sticky, and every so often kissed my temple, as if thanking me for something he didn’t know how to name.

***

Adrián left near midnight. We saw him out together at the door, with an almost absurd normality after what had just happened, as if he were a friend leaving after dinner.

When we closed the door, Rubén hugged me from behind and buried his face in my neck.

—Are you okay? —he asked me.

—Better than okay —I answered, turning to look at him—. And you?

—I didn’t know it could feel like this —he said—. Seeing you enjoy yourself and not be afraid. Knowing you come back to me afterward.

That night he fucked me slowly in bed, with the last traces of cum still drying on my skin, driving his cock deep into me but without the rage of other times, without any need to claim anything. He looked me in the eyes while he went in and out, and made me come once more, soft and long, before emptying himself inside me. Just the two of us, in silence, understanding each other in a new way.

Since then we’ve repeated it a few times, always with the same clear rules and the same trust first. Sometimes it’s Adrián, sometimes it isn’t. But what mattered was never who was in the room.

What matters is that, when everyone leaves, the one who stays is him. And that neither of us would trade for anything that look we shared that first night, discovering together how far we could go without losing each other.