The Question I Asked My Two Spa Coworkers

It happened a few years ago, in the spa of a hotel in downtown Rosario where I landed my first serious job as a masseur. I had just graduated from the academy and my hands still shook a little before every shift. What I experienced there, though, left its mark on me in a different way.

My shift partner was named Lucía. She was tiny, with narrow shoulders and a pair of small tits you could make out even under the white uniform. She always wore her dark hair tied back and moved with that calmness of someone who doesn’t give much importance to almost anything.

Lucía was a lesbian and said so straight out from day one. Far from putting distance between us, that ended up being the best thing that could have happened: we spent eight hours a day stuck together, and the complicity grew fast. We talked about other people’s cunts the way people talk about the weather.

We had a game every time some pretty guest came into the spa area. We’d look at each other through the frosted glass and silently bet who was going to get her. The sly bitch always ended up with the young ones, the honeymooners, the ones who took off their robes without a trace of modesty, showing round asses and tits out in the open.

—You take them all from me —I told her one afternoon, drying oil off the counter—. You leave me the sweaty men and the businessmen with cement for backs.

—Poor bastard —she laughed, biting into an apple—. One day I’ll return the favor.

—With interest, Lucía. Remember that.

It was a joke. We both knew it. And it stayed a joke for months, until the day the spa hired Camila.

Camila was a fully made woman in every sense. Tall, with wide hips, with a pair of generous tits that fought against the white jacket every time she bent over to set up a massage table. She wore her brown hair loose and laughed loudly, not hiding a thing.

The first day she showed up in the spa area, Lucía locked eyes with me from across the room. No words were needed. Both heads thought the same thing at the same time: this is the good one.

—You’re not taking this one from me —I told her, almost under my breath.

—That’s going to depend on her, my king —Lucía replied, delighted by the competition.

Camila fit in without effort. She had steady hands and guests came out of her sessions looking like someone who had just received a blessing. The three of us formed a team that worked better than any of us would have expected. We ate lunch together in the staff kitchen, covered each other’s shifts, traded stupid jokes in the hallways.

What wasn’t said, though, could still be felt. Camila wore a gray skirt that fit her tightly and showed off firm thighs when she sat down, and sometimes, when she bent over, you could glimpse the cut of her panties pressed through the fabric. When she leaned over to fill out the charts, the buttons on her blouse looked ready to pop and you could see the deep shadow of her cleavage. I tried to look away and, when I lifted my eyes, there was Lucía, looking at exactly the same thing I was, biting her lips without the slightest attempt to hide it.

—I swear I’m going to make her fall —Lucía told me one night as we were closing up—. I’m going to eat that cunt until she begs me to stop.

—You do whatever you’ve got to do. I’m going to wait my turn —I answered, still not understanding what I was saying.

***

The day I realized I was losing the battle was a slow Thursday. Camila had been nursing a twinge in her lower back since morning. Lucía, sharp as a hawk, offered her a quick session in cabin two before the next shift.

I passed by the half-open door just as Camila was taking off her jacket, with the natural ease of someone comfortable in her own skin. She was left in her bra, her taut tits pressed against the light lace, her nipples dark against the thin fabric. Lucía was looking at her from behind with a smile I knew all too well.

I pretended to look for something in the cabinet so I could stay another minute. Camila lay face down and Lucía started working her shoulders with warm oil. Lucía’s small hands moved down her back and lingered longer than necessary along the sides, where the breast began. Then, under the excuse of “working the obliques,” she slipped her fingers underneath and cupped the whole tit, weighing it in her palm. Camila’s skin gleamed under the warm light. Her head, resting on her arms, tilted to one side with every deep breath.

When Lucía eased the pressure and started sliding her palms over her with slow caresses, Camila’s sighs no longer sounded like relief. There was something else in them. Lucía pulled the waistband of her pants down an inch, then two, until the top of her ass showed, and kept pushing oil downward, sliding her hand until it was clear she was touching her slit. Camila opened her legs a little, a tiny gesture, impossible to mistake. Lucía lifted her face, pinned me with her eyes through the crack in the door, and winked.

I went to the locker room, locked the door, and had to pull my dick out of my pants to take care of the urgency myself. I grabbed it with both hands, spat into my palm, and worked it with the fresh image of Lucía’s small hand buried between Camila’s ass cheeks. I didn’t last long. I came against the locker room wall in three hard jerks, clenching my teeth so I wouldn’t let out a shout. I was too well trained to watching what wasn’t mine to have.

***

That same week, in a café near the hotel, Lucía told me the truth.

—I’ve been flirting with her for a while. She’d never been with another woman, but she wants to try. She told me that plainly, in so many words. She wants to know what it feels like to have a girl eat her cunt.

I stirred my coffee without looking up. My throat was dry and my cock was heavy against my pants again.

—All right —I said at last—. She’s yours.

—I’m not asking for her, man. I’m telling you.

I let out a laugh with no humor in it and, before thinking too hard about it, I blurted the line that had been running through my head for weeks.

—Lucía. Can I watch?

She froze with the cup halfway to her mouth.

—Watch what?

—You two. When you fuck. I’ll stay quiet in a corner, I swear I won’t open my mouth. I just want to see you eat her cunt.

She burst out laughing, loud, contagious, scandalizing the table next to us.

—You’re completely nuts. Did you hear yourself?

—Remember the sweaty guests, Lucía. You owe me something.

She bit her lip. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t have an immediate answer.

—Let me see how I bring it up. If she says no, this conversation ends here.

Camila said yes. I didn’t believe it until Lucía confirmed it the next day, in the staff hallway, with the look of someone who knew far too much.

—Tonight. At my place. But you stay in a corner, you don’t comment, you don’t take part, and you don’t take your dick out of your boxer briefs. And if Camila tells you to leave, you leave.

—I swear on my mother.

***

Lucía’s apartment was in a low-rise building, three blocks from the hotel. Small living room, warm light, a round table with an open bottle of white wine. She poured for the three of us and we sat chatting about anything, as if we were about to watch a movie. Camila arrived perfumed, wearing a black dress that didn’t quite cover anything, and sat on the couch with her legs crossed, nervous but curious.

I chose the single armchair, against the wall, as far away as possible. I wanted the two of them to forget I was there.

Lucía made the first move. She tucked a lock of Camila’s hair behind her ear and leaned in slowly. She kissed her neck, first lightly, then with her mouth open, sucking on the skin until she left a pink mark under her jaw. Camila closed her eyes and parted her lips without even realizing it. I set my glass down on the small table so I wouldn’t spill it.

—Come here, relax —Lucía whispered to her—. If you don’t like it, we stop. But you’re going to like it. No one’s going to lick you like I’m going to lick you.

—I don’t want to stop —Camila answered, and her voice cracked a little when she said it.

They kissed on the mouth, unhurried, with tongue from the very first kiss, mixing their saliva. Lucía stroked her thigh over the dress, moving her hand up little by little until her fingers disappeared under the fabric and found the waistband of her panties. Camila leaned back into the couch, letting herself be handled. When Lucía pulled one strap down and kissed her bare shoulder, Camila breathed hard and looked in my direction for the first time. Our eyes met for a second. She saw the bulge already distorting my jeans. She closed her eyes again and opened her legs a little wider.

—Let’s go to the bed —Lucía said—. We won’t fit here.

The bedroom had a large bed with white sheets and a wicker chair in one corner. I positioned myself there like a theater attendant while they undressed each other between kisses on the way over. Camila’s dress ended up on the floor at the foot of the bed. Then the black bra. Her tits, free, were exactly what I had imagined for months: round, firm, with dark hard nipples like little stones. They bounced as she finished taking off her panties and stood naked, with a triangle of dark brown hair trimmed just enough not to hide the slit of her cunt.

Lucía took off her T-shirt and stayed in a thong. She was skinny, almost adolescent compared to Camila, but her body had something sharp about it, a different kind of beauty, with long lines. Her small pink nipples stiffened as soon as the air brushed them. The two pairs of tits faced each other like a drawing done on purpose.

Camila lay back and Lucía climbed on top. She kissed her tits one by one, with the patience of someone who had been planning each move for a long time. She took one nipple fully into her mouth and sucked hard, cheeks hollowed, then let it go with a smack to move on to the other. She bit her nipples with her front teeth and Camila arched her back with a deep sigh, pressing Lucía’s head against her chest.

—Lick them, come on, don’t stop —Camila panted, surprised herself by the words that came out.

I freed myself from my jeans and sat in the armchair in my boxer briefs. My cock was fully outlined against the fabric, with a dark wet spot at the tip. There was no way to pretend to be composed. Lucía looked at me for an instant without stopping what she was doing, and smiled sideways at me with Camila’s nipple still trapped between her teeth.

Lucía worked her way downward with her mouth. She licked Camila’s navel, bit her hip, traced a path of saliva over her lower belly. When she reached the brown hair, she spread Camila’s legs with both hands, settled face down between her thighs, and paused for a second to stare at her open cunt, already shining, already dripping. Then she dragged her tongue from the perineum to the clit in one long stroke. Camila screamed and clapped a hand over her mouth.

—Shut up, you idiot, the neighbors will hear you —Lucía laughed, and went back down.

She ate her cunt with a veteran’s technique: two fingers inside, curled upward, her tongue working the clit in circles, then sucking it whole like a piece of candy. Camila lifted her hips off the bed, clamping her legs around Lucía’s ears. In five minutes she was coming, heels dug into the sheets and tits bouncing with each convulsion.

But Camila couldn’t handle passivity after that. She turned Lucía over, laid her on her back, pulled down her thong with her teeth, and stared at her shaved sex for a second, as if gathering courage. Lucía had a small cunt, her lips only slightly swollen, already soaked. Camila dove in without further ado. The way she licked her was not the way of someone just starting out. It was the way of someone who knew exactly what she was doing to herself and was doing it to someone else. She pulled Lucía’s lips apart with her thumbs and sucked her clit with the tip of her tongue, then penetrated her with her whole tongue, then came back up and started over.

Lucía moaned into the pillow, biting it so she wouldn’t scream. At one point she grabbed Camila’s head with both hands and guided her, rubbing her cunt against Camila’s mouth with the shamelessness of someone who had been asking for exactly this for months. And then, without warning, she flipped her over. They settled into sixty-nine, Camila underneath and Lucía on top, and after that there were no more words for quite a while, only hoarse breaths, wet smacks, fingers going in and out, and asses pressing against mouths. Each one gave the other a couple of slow, deep orgasms, the kind you can see on a face before you hear them. Lucía came over Camila’s mouth with a long shudder, spilling between the other woman’s teeth.

I was stroking myself steadily, stopping every time I felt I was about to blow. I wanted to last as long as possible. I wanted that chair to be my permanent post.

***

When Lucía mounted Camila in an improvised scissors position, cunt grinding against cunt with their clits knocking together, the two of them started screaming in a way that forced me to stop my hand so I wouldn’t finish too soon. You could see the soaked cunts flatten against each other, their juices mixing and running down their thighs. I clenched my teeth, looked at the ceiling, breathed. Looked back at them. No chance. I was one sigh away from the end.

Camila opened her eyes at that moment and pinned me with her stare. Something crossed her face. She stopped.

—Wait —she told Lucía—. We’re not wasting this.

Before I could react, Camila already had me sitting at the edge of the bed, had pulled my boxer briefs down to my knees, and had my cock against her lips. She spit on the head, lubed it with her hand, and took it all in one shot, all the way to the back of her throat. She sucked it with a desperation that looked like contained rage, as if she had been preparing for that moment for months. She gagged on purpose, strings of saliva dripping from her chin down to her tits, looking me in the eyes while she swallowed my cock whole.

—We had a deal! —Lucía protested, laughing from the middle of the bed.

—I didn’t sign anything —Camila answered, pulling back just enough to speak, her voice hoarse, and then took it back into her mouth.

She grabbed my balls with one hand while using the other to work the base in tandem with her mouth. I lasted three minutes. I finished in her mouth with a shudder that left me empty, blasting rope after rope against her palate. She swallowed everything, ran her thumb across the corner of her mouth, and sucked the last drop from her finger. When she lifted her face, she had a smile I had never seen on her before.

Lucía looked at me from the bed, then at Camila, then laughed.

—All right, come on. Get up here. You’re in.

***

What came next was a long hour, without a clock and without order. Camila worked my cock with her mouth until it got hard again, unhurried, and Lucía joined in at the end, the two tongues playing over my head, lips clashing in kisses with the tip of my dick in the middle. Then both tongues moved down to Lucía’s cunt, while Camila and I kissed over her, tasting the other woman’s salty flavor mixed into our mouths. Camila arched on her back with both tongues working between her thighs, clutching her tits and twisting her nipples herself. The looks I exchanged with Camila while Lucía guided us with her breathing. At some point I asked Camila’s permission to take her from behind and she lifted her hips as the only answer, getting onto all fours on the mattress. I slid in slowly, pushing inch by inch, feeling her cunt close around my cock like a hot glove. When I was all the way inside, I stayed still and she pushed her ass back at me for more. I started pumping her, first gently, then harder, grabbing her hips with both hands. Lucía sat on Camila’s face so she would keep licking her and I took care of the rest, slowly, staring at one woman’s neck and the other’s back, watching Camila’s tits shake with every thrust of my hips against her ass. At one point Lucía motioned for me to run my cock past her mouth without pulling it out of Camila, and I did: two pushes in, one out so Lucía could suck it with Camila’s juices all over it, then back in again. Camila nearly fell backward from the pleasure.

The three of us finished almost at the same time. Not by chance: Lucía had been conducting the rhythm with her voice, with her hands, with the way she pressed her knees against Camila’s head every time she felt she couldn’t take much more. I came inside Camila’s cunt with a roar, clinging to her hips, and felt her whole body clench as she came at the same time with Lucía’s tongue on her clit. Lucía came over Camila’s mouth and splattered my face as she toppled onto her side.

We collapsed onto the bed, the three of us wet, exhausted, laughing without really knowing why. I still had cum running down my head, and Camila had a white streak sliding down the inside of her thigh. Camila got up, went to the kitchen, and came back with three glasses of water, naked, not the least bit ashamed, her nipples still red from so much sucking. We toasted in silence. It was an absurd snapshot, tender and obscene at the same time.

—I have to confess something to you —Lucía told me after a long while, when Camila had gone into the bathroom—. If I forget for one second that I’m a dyke, I’d like to fuck with you right now. I want to know what your dick feels like inside. And don’t ask me why.

I looked at her without quite believing it.

—Are you sure?

—Before I change my mind.

Camila came out of the bathroom at exactly that moment and, without saying a word, joined the conversation with her mouth. She knelt between my legs and took hold of my soft cock, still tired, and started sucking it to wake it up. Lucía joined in on the other side, licking my balls while Camila took care of the tip. The two tongues, now, were for me. In a couple of minutes I was hard again, throbbing between their two mouths. It was an experience unlike anything before: sweet, unhurried, with the two of them sharing my body and stealing kisses in between, my cock between four hands.

I laid Lucía on her back and slid in slowly. I felt her tense, tighten, breathe deeply. I gave her time, stayed still with only the tip inside, kissed her neck, kissed her small tits, asked her a hundred times if she was okay. I entered her little by little, pushing in and pulling out a finger at a time, until I had her all the way inside. Lucía’s cunt was tight, much tighter than Camila’s, and gripped me like it didn’t want to let go. When she started moving beneath me, seeking me out, I understood she was ready, and I started fucking her for real. Camila joined in from the side, licking the exact spot where Lucía’s skin met mine, sucking my balls between thrusts, then climbing up to suck Lucía’s nipples. Lucía started moaning, first softly, then all out, digging her nails into my back and locking her legs around my waist. She came once with Camila’s hand on her clit while I pumped her, and then again when I lifted one leg and took her from the side, deeper. When she finished the second time, I came inside her without pulling out anything, emptying myself completely in long, hard spurts. She asked me to do it that way, her mouth against my ear: “Inside, inside, don’t come out.”

***

The three of us stayed sprawled on that bed for another hour, talking as if nothing had happened, as if we were three friends in a bar. Camila told hotel stories. Lucía laughed against my shoulder, her thighs still sticky with my cum. I couldn’t stop staring at the ceiling, grateful to a god I didn’t even believe in.

The next day, at the spa, we were perfect professionals. Nobody mentioned a thing. There were no gestures, no winks, no extra complicity. Inside the hotel, we were the same three masseurs as always.

Outside, though, we had several more encounters. Some only with Camila, at her apartment, where she did things with her mouth that still wake me up at night. Others, the rarest ones, with Lucía. With her we never repeated, in fact: I was her only experience with a man and she kept it as something she decided not to live again, but that mattered to her because she had gone through it. I understood that then. I still understand it now.

Camila changed jobs a few months later and we gradually lost track of her, as happens with people who come and go from one’s life. Lucía and I see each other from time to time: a coffee, a beer, an old joke. We never spoke about it again. No need. Sometimes, when she laughs, she winks at me like that afternoon, against the frosted glass of cabin two. And I understand everything, without needing a single word.