The Night of Strip Poker That Changed Everything

Mateo adjusted his white silk shirt in front of the mirror, leaving the first few buttons undone. That night he wasn’t the distracted patrol officer; he was a hunter off duty. His phone vibrated on the dresser. It was Tomás.

—Ready for the prospects? I’m two blocks away, come down and I’ll pick you up.

—Sure, one last spray of cologne and I’m coming down.

—Hey, listen —Mateo laughed at his reflection—. Don’t you think they’re a little old for us?

—Don’t be such a killjoy —Tomás replied—. I’m thirty, you too. Camila’s forty, freshly separated and thirsty for revenge. Florencia’s thirty-five, spectacular. She got sick of her idiot boyfriend and wants some real action. Picture it: two young officers from the country’s best unit. Flawless plan.

—I’ll take your word for it. I dressed like I was heading to a runway show.

When he stepped out onto the sidewalk, he was speechless. Parked by the curb was a polished black Jeep Renegade, gleaming with meticulous care. The passenger window rolled down and Tomás’s satisfied face appeared behind the glass.

—What do you think of the ride?

—Where did you get this thing?

—Financing, brother. Hop in, time is money and the girls don’t wait.

***

On a downtown corner, under the neon lights, two figures were enough to steal anyone’s breath. Camila was imposing: skin-tight black leather pants and a deep red top that made her jet-black hair stand out even more. Beside her, Florencia, with her reddish hair falling over a dangerously short burgundy dress, was no less stunning.

—Look at them —Tomás murmured as he braked.

Camila leaned into the window and let her perfume flood the cabin.

—So much mystery… looks like the wait was worth it. The car, at least, is up to par.

—Get in, girls. The car is only the beginning.

***

The Jeep stopped in front of the entrance to the most exclusive club in the area. Tomás didn’t bother looking at the line. One of the bouncers, a giant in a dark suit, nodded after recognizing the badge Tomás flashed discreetly.

—Go on in, guys. Everything’s in order.

Inside, the bass thudded in their chests. Tomás ordered four drinks at the bar and settled close to Camila.

—So? How’s the single-life debut going? I heard the guy acted like an asshole.

Camila let out a bitter laugh.

—Asshole is putting it mildly. I spent years putting up with a guy who had no idea what he had right next to him —she leaned closer, brushing Tomás’s arm—. But they say the best way to forget a bad taste is by trying something new and stronger, right?

—Don’t worry, Cami. Tonight you’re going to try something that’ll make you forget your own name.

Meanwhile, Mateo and Florencia had slipped to the middle of the dance floor. The music shifted to a Latin beat and he decided to pull out his secret weapon. Without warning, he grabbed her by the waist and started leading her with flawless technique. Fluid steps, fast, confident. He used a break in the rhythm to stop her dead, pressing his body against hers until they were face to face.

—You dance way too well —Florencia panted, eyes shining—. I think the young officer turned out more dangerous than I expected.

—This is just the beginning —he whispered into her neck.

***

At the bar, Tomás already felt like the night was won when the mood suddenly soured. A man in his forties, shirt stained with alcohol and bloodshot eyes, planted himself in front of them. It was Sergio, Camila’s ex-husband.

—So here you are? —he bellowed, swaying—. You come out here with this kid to show yourself off? Where did you leave the boy?

Camila went pale, but her eyes dripped pure hatred.

—Sergio, go away. You’re drunk. The boy’s with my mother, you know that perfectly well.

—Don’t talk to me like that in front of this clown! —he shouted, swinging at them, a blow Tomás dodged on pure police instinct.

Tomás stood up, adjusting his jacket with dangerous calm. His voice dropped three octaves.

—Listen carefully, buddy. You’re bothering the lady and the authority. Turn around and disappear before I explain why you don’t fuck with the unit.

—Authority? My ass! —Sergio shoved a hand into his pocket and pulled out an automatic knife. The click of the blade snapping open cut the music for everyone nearby.

Before Tomás could react, Mateo appeared like a shadow behind the drunk. He caught the knife arm and twisted it behind Sergio’s back with a force that tore a scream out of him.

—Drop it —he ordered in his ear—. You’ve already made the biggest mistake of your life. Back off, right now.

Sergio let go of the knife, and it fell with a metallic clatter. Mateo shoved him back, staying between him and his friends, with a predator’s stare.

—Easy, Mat —Tomás said, looking at Sergio with disgust—. No need to stain the white silk for this poor bastard.

Camila looked at them both with a mix of fear and new excitement. Watching them take control was the missing spice the night needed.

***

After the bouncers dragged Sergio away, Tomás raised his glass.

—It’s over. We’re not going to let a little bitterness ruin the sweet night we’ve got ahead of us.

The four of them kept drinking and dancing. It was close to three when Tomás pointed to the center of the dance floor. Mateo and Florencia were fused into one, kissing with a passion that took the breath away. Camila laughed along with them, and when she looked back at Tomás she found him just millimeters away. Without asking permission, he stole a kiss. Far from pulling away, she grabbed his shirt collar and kissed him back with interest. The second kiss was hungrier, more direct.

Tomás pulled away just a few inches, lips shining and breath ragged. He walked over to the dance floor and tapped Mateo on the shoulder.

—Let’s skip all the preliminaries. How about we go to your place?

Mateo looked at Florencia, who was licking her lips, waiting for him, and then at Tomás.

—My apartment’s a mess —he lied, while a smile began to form on his face—. Still, sure.

***

Mateo had lied. His apartment wasn’t a mess; it was the opposite. As an elite-unit officer, he had brought discipline into his four walls. Shirts sorted by color, books lined up to the millimeter, not a speck of dust. But looking at Florencia, he understood that tonight his precious order was about to go up in flames.

In the back seat of the Jeep, Mateo took Florencia by the nape. The kiss was a hungry exploration that filled the cabin with a wet, rhythmic sound. Mateo’s hand dropped without asking permission, slipped under her burgundy dress and found her panties already soaked. Florencia let out a moan against his mouth when his fingers pushed the fabric aside and touched her right on the cunt, sliding between her swollen lips.

—Look at how you are, whore —Mateo murmured, his voice rough, sinking two fingers into her up to the knuckles.

—Shut up and keep going —she panted, spreading her legs wider in the seat.

In the front seat, Camila turned her head, peeking through the rearview mirror while biting her lip. Without taking her eyes off him, she slid her hand down to Tomás’s crotch and squeezed his already rock-hard cock over his pants.

—Drive straight, officer —she smiled—. I don’t want to arrive in one piece.

When they got to the building, Tomás parked however he could. They rode the elevator in a tense silence, broken only by the brush of silk against the burgundy dress, and by the wet sound of Mateo’s fingers still inside Florencia while she leaned against the elevator mirror.

When the door opened, the smell of cleanliness greeted the group. Everything spotless. For now.

—Welcome to my humble home —said Mateo, locking the door.

***

After a couple of short, strong, dry drinks, the atmosphere of neatness began to evaporate. On the leather sofa, Mateo and Florencia were already devouring each other. On the terrace, Tomás and Camila shared a drink, leaning against the railing. It was when Tomás went back into the living room for more ice that he saw, on the coffee table, a deck of cards perfectly lined up, like everything else in Mateo’s place.

A spark of mischief lit his eyes.

—Look what I found. The mood’s way too calm for what the night promised. Strip poker.

Florencia pulled away from Mateo’s lips and looked at Camila.

—These guys are from the unit, they’ve got to be top-class cheaters. They’ll leave us with nothing in five minutes.

—But look at them —Camila replied, her eyes fixed on Tomás, who was already shuffling with hypnotic dexterity—. If we lose, the punishment isn’t that bad, right?

Mateo came up behind Florencia, circling her waist.

—Come on, don’t be such killjoys. This place needs a little decorative chaos. Or are you scared of losing?

Camila finished her drink in one gulp and slapped the table with her glass.

—We’re in. But prepare yourselves, officers: we don’t play to lose.

***

The apartment turned into a battlefield of silk, leather, and skin. The third hand was brutal for the officers: Camila, holding a spade, forced Mateo to part with his most prized possession, the white silk shirt. When he took it off, he revealed a wiry physique that made Florencia lick her lower lip.

Tomás’s revenge came quickly. With a ten-high poker hand, he pointed at the girls’ feet. Florencia and Camila took off their shoes, feeling a shiver that had nothing to do with cold and everything to do with vulnerability.

The tension rose when Camila had to peel off her black leather pants. The sound of the zipper coming down was like a gunshot in the silence of the living room. Left in a tiny matching thong with her red top, Tomás came over under the pretense of helping her, but took the opportunity to run his nose along her neck.

—You taste like trouble, Camila. And I love it.

Florencia lost her dress after a risky play and was left in lace. Mateo, already shirtless, took her chin.

—I told you the apartment was well heated. I think the one getting hot is me.

The last hand left the girls against the wall. Tomás showed a straight. Camila looked at Florencia: with electric complicity, they both reached behind their backs. The sound of the clasps coming undone was the signal. Camila was left only in a red thong, her big, firm tits crowned by dark, already hard nipples. Florencia revealed a slightly smaller but perfect pair, with pink, perky nipples pointing toward the ceiling.

The officers were left breathless.

—Now that’s more like it —said Mateo, getting up and moving toward Florencia while Tomás wrapped Camila around the waist—. Now is when the night really begins.

***

Camila climbed onto the sofa with a smile that promised far more than her words. She braced her hands on the backrest and arched her back toward Tomás, who watched her with a tight jaw.

—Let’s see how good this gets —she whispered, hoarse, reaching out.

Her fingers, with dark red-painted nails, traced the outline beneath the boxer briefs. Tomás caught his breath when she, with the practiced ease of someone experienced, pulled down the last garment and grabbed his cock firmly, feeling its weight in her palm. It was thick, with a purple, veined head, already leaking a clear drop at the tip. Camila squeezed the base and stroked it slowly, watching a strand of fluid stretch and smear her fingers.

—Look what you’ve got here, officer —she smiled, licking her palm before grabbing him again—. And here I thought the only issued weapon was the pistol.

Without taking her eyes off him, she ran her tongue over her lips and leaned in. She flattened her tongue from his balls to the tip, sucking every vein along the way. Then she took him all the way into her mouth until the head hit the back of her throat. Tomás let out a deep sigh, half a groan, and grabbed the back of her neck. His fingers, still until then motionless, tangled in her jet-black hair as he pushed her gently, setting the rhythm.

—God, you’re sucking me so damn good, Cami —he murmured, voice rough—. Take it all, come on.

She didn’t answer with words. She opened wider and swallowed him to the base, choking a little, letting a thread of saliva drip down her chin and onto her tits. She came back up with her tongue coiled around the glans, made an obscene sucking sound, and went back down. Tomás threw his head back, neck muscles taut, hips moving on their own, seeking deeper throat.

—Fuck, like that, don’t stop —he panted, closing his fist in her hair.

Camila pulled him out of her mouth with a pop and rubbed him over her face, over her tits, leaving him shiny with saliva. Then she took his balls into her mouth, one by one, while still stroking his cock.

On the other side of the living room, Mateo guided Florencia down until her knees touched the carpet. He tangled his fingers in her reddish hair, not to yank but to feel the weight of her head as she started working him with her mouth. Florencia was smaller than Camila, and Mateo’s cock filled her whole face. She squeezed her eyes shut every time the glans touched the back of her palate, and a thick thread of saliva hung from the corner of her lips.

—That’s it, redhead, suck it good —Mateo asked through clenched teeth—. Use your tongue, turn it around.

Florencia obeyed. She took him out of her mouth, laid him flat on her tongue, and ran the tip of her tongue along the vein underneath. Then she took his balls into her mouth, one first, then the other, looking up with bright green eyes. Mateo clenched his teeth, fighting the urge to blow her throat out right there.

Impatient, he grabbed her hips and lifted her, turning her until her back was to him, braced against the arm of the sofa. He yanked down her thong and saw her shaved cunt, swollen, lips shining.

—Look how wet you are, redhead —he growled, spreading her thighs with one hand. With the other he started tracing circles on her clit, listening to her twist and muffle her moans against the leather. He bent down and ran his tongue from her clit to her asshole, up and down, sucking up everything she had. Florencia screamed and spread her legs wider, pressing her ass against his face.

—Eat me out all the way, Mateo, come on, come on…

Mateo shoved his tongue inside her, pulled it out, stabbed her clit with it and added two fingers that began to slide in and out at a rhythm that made her tremble.

***

The living room was thick, heavy with the smell of perfume mixed with the musk of desire, with the smell of wet pussy and semen hanging in the air. The sound was a filthy symphony: skin brushing, rhythmic gasps, the wet, constant splashing of mouths devouring cocks and cunts.

—Look at me, Cami… look at me while you suck me —Tomás managed to say, voice breaking.

She lifted her head, lips shining, defiant and submissive at once. He took her hair gently but firmly, forcing eye contact while he pushed her head down to the base. Camila made a guttural noise, brief gagging that filled her eyes with tears, but she didn’t let up. She sucked harder, pressed her cheeks against the cock, and when she pulled away to breathe, a thick string of saliva hung between her mouth and the tip.

—Come here, up, I can’t take it anymore —Tomás growled, pulling her arm.

He threw her onto her back on the rug, ripped off the red thong in one pull, and spread her legs wide open. Camila’s cunt, dark and wet, gleamed between her thighs. Tomás lowered his head and devoured it: he licked her lips, pushed his whole tongue inside, and carefully sank his teeth into her clit. Camila arched her back and grabbed his head with both hands, rubbing him against her face.

—Eat me like that, yes, yes, don’t stop… —she screeched, her trembling legs locked around his head.

Beside them, when Mateo drove two fingers into Florencia at once and began pressing her clit with his thumb, she arched her back against the leather.

—Put it in, Mateo, put it all in now, I can’t take it anymore —she begged, turning around, legs shaking and panties hanging from one ankle—. I want to feel that cock inside me, come on.

Mateo didn’t need to be told twice. He lifted her as if she weighed nothing and settled her against the backrest, on her knees on the sofa, ass sticking out toward him. He grabbed his cock by the base, rubbed it over the lips of her cunt, passed it over her clit, then over the entrance again. Florencia whimpered, pushing her hips back, searching for it.

—Put it in me, you motherfucker, don’t make me beg anymore.

Mateo drove it in at once, all the way. Florencia let out a hoarse cry. He fucked her with long, deep thrusts, gripping her blazing red hair, tangling his fingers in the flame-colored strands while he pounded her. The contrast of her pale skin and the reddish mane spread over the black leather had him worked up. Every thrust made his balls slap against her clit with a wet smack.

—Look at that color! —he roared, giving her ass a slap that cracked like a gunshot. His palm left an immediate red mark, and Florencia moaned louder.

Florencia, face buried in the cushion, felt her hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. Every thrust unraveled her. Mateo spread her cheeks with both hands, watched his cock go in and out shining, dripping with her juices, and licked his lips.

—Come on, don’t stop —Florencia panted, turning her head to show him those shining eyes while her hair dripped down the side of the sofa—. Break me, come on, harder.

Mateo sped up. He grabbed her waist with both hands and started fucking her at a savage pace, like a machine. The sofa creaked. Florencia drooled onto the leather, her face wrecked.

Camila and Tomás were on the rug. Her legs were pointed toward the ceiling, spread wide. Tomás settled between her thighs, grabbed his cock, and slid it into her slowly, enjoying every inch. Camila closed her eyes and let out a long moan, feeling him open her from the inside. Tomás lowered her ankles to his shoulders to go even deeper, pressing her knees against her tits.

—Fuck me, your cunt’s so tight —he growled, biting his lip.

Camila let out a sharp moan, half pleasure and half pain. She dug her red nails into his back, dragging them until she left marks.

—Tom… keep going like that, don’t stop, give me more —she pleaded, eyes lost on the ceiling, tits bouncing with every thrust—. Tear my cunt up, come on, it’s been a while since I got fucked like this.

Tomás drove into her to the hilt, pulling almost all the way out before plunging back in with a single blow. His balls slapped against Camila’s ass with a dull smack. She started trembling, clenching around him in spasms, and bit his shoulder to keep from screaming too loudly.

—I’m about to come, come on, give me more… —she panted through clenched teeth in his skin.

***

Mateo, seeing the two women were on the verge, dragged Camila toward the sofa.

—Tom, let me have the brunette, because I’m taking the redhead and turning her around.

Tomás didn’t hesitate. He pulled his cock out of Camila’s cunt with a wet sound and climbed onto the sofa behind Florencia. The redhead didn’t even look at him: she simply felt another body’s heat, another glans rubbing her soaked cunt, and arched her back even more. The scream she let out when Tomás settled himself and rammed into her all the way to the balls could be heard across the block. He was more wiry than Mateo, a little longer, and the angle from the sofa made it feel like he was splitting her in two.

—Aah, fuck, how does that go in —Florencia shrieked—. Yes, like that, fuck me hard.

On the rug, Mateo flipped Camila over like a sock and put her on all fours, gripping her hips with those hands that covered half her waist. He ran two fingers through her cunt and brought them to his mouth, sucking them slowly.

—You’re so good, brunette. Let’s see how well you handle this.

When he drove into her, she buried her teeth in the edge of the sofa. It was too much: he filled her inch by inch while he set a savage rhythm that lifted her off the floor with every thrust. Mateo grabbed her jet-black hair, tugged her back and arched her spine even more, fucking her like an animal.

—That’s it, whore, that’s how you like it —he growled in her ear—. Feel how I put it all the way in.

—Yes, yes, keep going, don’t stop —Camila answered between moans, eyes closed and mouth open.

Mateo ran his thumb over her asshole and started playing there, pressing lightly while still fucking her. Camila screamed louder and shook her ass against him, impaling herself on him.

The living room was a ring. Tomás on the sofa fucking Florencia like his life depended on it, Mateo below tearing into Camila with animal fury.

—My God, you’re a beast, you’re ripping me apart —Camila screamed, face pressed into the leather, drool streaming down her chin.

Mateo dragged Camila onto the sofa, still with his cock inside her, guiding her by the waist, where Tomás was still punishing Florencia.

—Come here, both of you, damn it. I want to see you together.

Camila climbed up until she was face to face with Florencia. The two of them, on fire, sweating, tits bouncing from the pounding, grabbed each other by the nape and smashed their mouths together. It was a tongue kiss, filthy, with lips shining from the saliva of the cocks they’d just sucked. Red hair mixed with dark hair as they devoured each other’s mouths, passing the taste of the two men from one to the other. Tomás behind Florencia, Mateo behind Camila: a human flesh train making the sofa legs creak.

—Look at this —Tomás panted, watching the two of them knead each other’s breasts with one hand and search for each other’s clits with the other.

Camila grabbed one of Florencia’s tits and brought it to her mouth, sucking the pink nipple and nibbling it while Mateo kept fucking her from behind. Florencia returned the favor: she lowered her hand and began rubbing Camila’s clit, fingers wet, in quick circles synchronized with Mateo’s thrusts.

—Oh, you fucking redhead, like that, come on, touch me like that… —Camila panted, eyes rolling back.

Camila threw her head back, resting it on Mateo’s shoulder as he penetrated her with rhythmic violence.

—Yes, come on, come on, we’re both gonna come —she shouted, stretching her arm to grab Tomás by the nape—. I want you inside, both of you, come inside us.

Florencia turned for a second to lick Camila’s neck while Tomás made his final sprint. He grabbed her hair, yanked her head back, and drove in the deepest, most brutal thrusts, feeling how her cunt began clenching around him in spasms.

—I’m coming, Tom, I’m coming, don’t stop —Florencia shrieked, arching so hard it looked like she might break—. There, there, aaaah…

Florencia came in waves, her whole body trembling, her cunt milking Tomás’s cock, and he held on for two more thrusts before exploding inside. He felt himself spill in hot bursts against her depths, and Florencia moaned louder at the feel of semen filling her.

At the same time, Mateo let out an animal growl and, with three final thrusts that lifted Camila off the sofa, came inside the brunette. Camila was coming too: she dug her nails into Mateo’s arm, mouth open in a silent scream, feeling her cunt fill with hot cum as her own orgasm shook her from head to toe.

Mateo stayed inside her a few seconds longer, moving slowly, savoring the last tremors. When he finally pulled out, a thick white thread dripped down Camila’s inner thigh. Florencia, still panting, bent down and with one finger gathered it up, took it to her mouth, and sucked it with a tired smile.

—Tasty —she murmured—. Quite the gentleman, officer.

Tomás, still inside Florencia, laughed exhaustedly and slapped her ass before pulling out. Another white thread slid down the redhead’s thighs. Camila leaned in and, without thinking, licked Florencia’s semen off her thigh, cleaning it with her tongue while the two men watched them with their cocks still hard and throbbing.

The four of them stayed there, piled together, gasping as if they’d run a marathon. The silence was broken only by the sound of heavy breathing and the occasional wet kiss the girls kept giving each other, hands still between each other’s legs.

***

The eight o’clock sun slipped through the blinds, lighting up the mess in the living room. The four of them stepped into the shower. Hot water ran over their skin while they exchanged their last kisses under the spray, hands roaming over asses, tits, and half-hard cocks that still hadn’t fully gone down.

Once dry and dressed, exhaustion hit all at once. Mateo gave Tomás a half-hug and kissed the girls on the cheek, already half-zombified.

—Bye, you wild things… I’m going to sleep for a thousand years —he mumbled before collapsing into bed, still carrying the smell of the two women on the sheets.

Tomás drove Camila and Florencia home, dropping each one off at her place. They were almost asleep against the window, with smiles nobody could wipe off their faces.

At around six in the evening, Mateo’s phone vibrated on the nightstand. It was a message from Tomás:

“We absolutely wrecked those two, brother. I can barely move, what a night.”

Mateo scratched his beard and replied right away:

“Forget it, it was a massacre. Next time it’s my turn to invite a couple of girls I’ve got in mind —you’re going to see what they’re like.”

The answer took less than a minute:

“Deal, I’ll take your word for it. Give me a heads-up and we’ll fire it up again.”

Mateo set the phone aside, stretched out, and lay staring at the ceiling, already starting to think about who the next candidates would be.