The Request I Didn’t Dare Refuse

The part of me I always kept silent was also the most honest. Bisexuality isn’t something that weighs on you once you accept it, but it is something you learn to measure: who to tell, when, how much. With some friends I told it over time. With Luciana, from the first month.

She took it with that calm people have when they don’t need to turn everything into a debate. She didn’t ask unnecessary questions, didn’t pretend to understand something she didn’t really understand fully. She just listened, nodded, and said that it didn’t change anything between us. And it never did.

What did change, over time, was her curiosity.

I work as a kinesiologist and have a practice at home. Among my clients are men who come in with a knot in their lower backs and leave after having gone twice the agreed time, with hard cocks and mouths full of mine. It doesn’t always happen, and it doesn’t happen with everyone. But it happens. And when I told Luciana about those encounters—how I had sucked this one off, how the other one had fucked me against the table, how much semen I had swallowed—she listened in a different way than she listened to the rest of my stories: eyes a little wider, breathing a little shorter, one hand drifting on its own between her legs over her pants.

One Tuesday night, while we were having dinner, she said it without preamble.

—I want to see it sometime.

—See what?

—What you tell me about. You with another man. I want to see you with one cock in your mouth and another in your ass, if possible.

She said it calmly, as if it were the logical conclusion of something she’d been thinking about for a long time. And in a way it was. We’d been circling the idea for weeks without naming it.

I liked the proposal more than I expected. It wasn’t the exhibitionism that moved me, but something more specific: that she could see that part of me that until then had only existed in words. That she wouldn’t have to imagine it.

The problem was finding the right person. My clients are discreet, many have their own complications, and not all of them would be willing to add a woman into the equation. But I thought of Rodrigo.

Rodrigo was thirty-two, worked as a swimming instructor at a private club in the neighborhood, and had the body that kind of job implies: broad shoulders, a defined back, the sort of physique that doesn’t come from the gym but from the water. And a thick cock, curving slightly upward, which the first time I saw it made me salivate like I’d been hungry for days. We’d been meeting for several months in my sessions, there was a comfort between us that didn’t need too many words, and I knew it wasn’t the first time he’d taken part in something like that. That made him different from the others.

I called him on Thursday afternoon and told him the situation plainly.

—Is she going to participate or just watch? —he asked.

—Both, I think.

—And with her? How far?

—As far as she wants. She’s the kind who knows how to ask for what she wants.

—Good. When?

We set it for the following Saturday. Rodrigo would arrive an hour before Luciana, to talk about what there would be and what there wouldn’t. These earlier conversations are what make everything work.

***

He arrived on time, in training pants and a tight T-shirt. There was something about the way he moved that had always caught my attention: unhurried, with a confidence that wasn’t arrogance but simply ease in his own body. The kind of calm that comes from spending hours in the water.

We sat in the office with a beer each and spoke frankly. He didn’t want another guy fucking her, and I wasn’t interested in that dynamic either; between us, I was always the one who sucked and the one who took it in the ass. Everything else was open: I could fuck her from the front or from behind, cum wherever I wanted, let her eat his ass if it came up. Nothing would have to be forced, and if at any point someone wanted to stop, we’d stop without explanations.

While I prepared the floor of the office with mats and cushions, Rodrigo helped me move the table off to one side. The room was left spacious, with the light low and that smell of lavender oil that always lingers after a workday. It was a space the two of us knew well, even though we had never used it like this.

Luciana arrived forty minutes later.

She came in wearing tight jeans and a cream-colored silk blouse that left her shoulders bare. Rodrigo and she greeted each other with that balance that’s hard to achieve: without pretending the situation was ordinary, but without making it heavier than it was. They shook hands, looked at each other with mutual curiosity, and that was enough.

The three of us sat on the cushions with a beer. The conversation was light at first: the club where Rodrigo worked, how many pool lengths he swam a day, whether the cold water in winter bothered him or you got used to it. Luciana asked and he answered with that laconic style of someone who doesn’t need to fill silence. But underneath all that there was a tension the three of us felt and none of us pretended wasn’t there: it showed in her through the nipples outlined under the silk, in him through the bulge growing in his training pants, in me through my dry mouth every time I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.

At some point no one had anything else to say. Rodrigo looked at me. I moved toward him.

***

I started as always: one hand on the nape, thumbs searching the trapezius muscles, slow circular pressure. He let his head fall forward, used to it. But then I leaned in and kissed his neck, slowly, biting the edge of his jaw, and he turned his head toward me.

We kissed face to face. Not like two people discovering each other, but like two who already know what exists between them. Tongue against tongue, without decorum, while I slid my hand over his pants and squeezed his cock through the fabric, feeling it grow under my palm.

It was the first time she saw us.

I heard Luciana moving behind me, settling herself for a better view. I didn’t turn around yet.

I took Rodrigo’s shirt off and then mine. He had the torso you’d expect from someone who swims three hours a day: broad shoulders, flat stomach, a line of dark hair running down from the navel until it vanished under the waistband. I leaned over him, kissed his chest, ran my tongue over a nipple and felt him tense slowly under my mouth. I bit it, just a little, and he let out a short grunt through his nose.

I lowered my mouth to his abdomen, leaving a trail of saliva through the hair, and unfastened his pants slowly. I slid a hand over the fabric before pulling them down, gauging what I was already imagining: he was hard, thick, throbbing against the cotton. I pulled them down along with his underwear and his cock sprang out, heavy, the tip already shiny with pre-cum. I took him in my hand and moved him slowly, closing my fist around the base, feeling the thick vein pulse against my fingers.

I heard Luciana let out a soft breath. I turned around: she had opened her blouse, her tits were out with hard nipples, and one hand was inside her unbuttoned jeans, two fingers already moving with a slow but steady rhythm.

—Don’t stop on my account —she said, her voice hoarse—. Don’t even think about it.

Rodrigo did the same thing I’d done to him: he pulled my pants down, took me carefully, and for a while we caressed each other without haste, each with the other’s cock in hand, looking and letting ourselves be looked at. There was no urgency. It was better that way.

I leaned in and took him in my mouth.

I started at the tip, sucking his glans with tight lips, playing with my tongue around the corona, savoring the salty liquid seeping out of him. Then I went lower, swallowing him halfway, coming back up, down again, each time a little deeper, until the tip hit the back of my throat and I had to breathe through my nose so I wouldn’t choke. I felt his hand settle in my hair, not pressing, just following the movement. I left his whole cock in my mouth for a few seconds, lips sealed around the base, while I stroked his balls with my other hand.

—Like that, asshole, like that —he murmured, his head thrown back.

Before long he motioned for us to shift in the opposite direction, and we moved into a long sixty-nine, unhurried, each with the other’s whole cock in his mouth. He sucked with hunger, without fear, taking me deep to the throat and coming back, while he fondled my ass with both hands, spreading my cheeks apart. At some point he shoved his tongue between my cheeks and licked my hole with his whole mouth, long, wet, circling the tip of his tongue around the rim until it opened just a little. I had to let go of his cock for a second to moan against his thigh.

We took turns: sucking, tongue in the ass, sucking again, one finger slipping in little by little. It was something we both enjoyed and didn’t need to rush.

At some point I realized Luciana had taken everything off. She had her legs spread wide, eyes fixed on us, three fingers buried in her pussy to the knuckles and her thumb on her clit, moving her hand with a rhythm I knew well: the rhythm she got when she was about to come.

—Motherfuckers —she said under her breath, between gasps—. Look how they eat her out. Look how they both eat her out.

And a moment later she came with her whole body, back arched, her hand soaked with juice up to the wrist and her eyes closed, biting her lip so she wouldn’t scream too loud.

Rodrigo finished in my mouth shortly after, with two short thrusts of his hips and a long growl. I felt the first hot spurt hit my palate, then another, and another, until my mouth filled with thick semen. I swallowed all of it, every drop, leaving nothing behind, and then I ran my tongue over the tip to clean off the last pearl remaining there. I wiped my lip with the back of my hand and looked at him.

—Now her —I said.

***

Luciana came over to us with that freedom she has when she’s decided that night has no restrictions. She kissed both of us in turn, not choosing between one and the other, slowly, taking his tongue into her mouth with the same appetite she took mine, knowing Rodrigo still had the taste of my cock in his mouth and I had his semen on mine.

She knelt in front of Rodrigo and took him in her mouth hungrily; he, who had just come, started recovering faster than anyone would have expected, helped by her mouth, which knew how to suck like few others: deep, with saliva, looking up through half-closed eyes, squeezing her tits with her free hand. In two minutes he was hard again, glossy with spit, resting against her cheek.

I got behind Luciana. I ran my hands over her, kissed her neck and shoulders, caressed her breasts and pinched her nipples while she kept Rodrigo in her mouth. I brought one hand down to her pussy and found it dripping, so wet that my fingers went in without resistance to the knuckles. I searched for her clit with my thumb and worked it in circles while I slid my fingers in and out. She let go of Rodrigo’s cock for a second to moan against his thigh.

—Fuck me —she asked me, without turning around—. Fuck me while I keep sucking him off.

I knelt behind her, ran the tip of my cock over the lips of her cunt to smear myself good and wet, and shoved it in at once, all the way. She moaned with a mouth full. I started moving, slowly at first, gripping her by the waist, watching her ass slap against my hip with each thrust. Rodrigo grabbed her hair with both hands and started fucking her mouth with the same rhythm I was fucking her cunt. It was almost choreography: when I thrust in, he shoved his cock down her throat; when I pulled out, he let her go.

Then Rodrigo fell onto his back on the mat and Luciana climbed on top of him. She took him in her hand, settled herself little by little, and started moving, slowly at first, finding the angle, then with more rhythm, riding him with her hands braced on his chest, her tits bouncing. I knelt at her side and she turned her face and took me with her hand, then with her mouth, without stopping moving on him. She sucked me while she let herself be fucked by him, and every so often she let me go to moan loudly, head thrown back, when Rodrigo grabbed her by the hips and pushed from below.

The three of us looked at each other at some point. There’s something about that moment that’s hard to describe: three people surrendering to the same thing at once, with nobody in charge and nobody extraneous.

At some point Luciana stopped moving, looked at me over her shoulder, and lifted her hips slightly. The message was clear. We had talked about that between us before, more than once, but it had never happened. Tonight was different.

—Both of you —she said, staring at me—. I want both of you inside.

I prepared her carefully and without haste. I reached for the oil on the small table, coated my fingers, and worked her ass slowly, first one, then two, scissoring them, giving her time to open. She kept moving on Rodrigo, just barely, panting with each finger that slid in. When I felt she was ready, I smeared my cock with oil, got behind her, and started pushing in little by little, the tip making its way, then the crown, then halfway in, waiting between each push for her to breathe. The fit was extreme: I could feel Rodrigo’s cock separated from mine by only that thin wall of flesh, and he could feel me too. She made no sound of pain, only a long, sustained one coming from a completely different place, a guttural moan that escaped her with her mouth open against Rodrigo’s chest.

—Jesus fucking Christ —he muttered, gripping her waist—. Jesus fucking Christ.

When I was all the way in, the three of us stayed still for a few seconds, adjusting. Then we started moving. I pulled out, he went in; he pulled out, I went in. A slow sway at first, searching for the rhythm, until the three bodies found a shared cadence. Luciana between the two of us, split open, trembling, moaning words that weren’t words.

—Like that, like that, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop —she repeated, her voice breaking—, you’re going to split me in two, keep going, keep going.

She came twice in a row, with jolts we both felt inside her, her cunt and ass squeezing our cocks at the same time, deep contractions that made the three of us moan. Rodrigo warned her when he was close:

—I’m coming, I’m coming inside.

She clamped her legs around him hard and took him in, head hanging, mouth open. I felt Rodrigo tremble all over beneath her, his cock throbbing as he unloaded, and that spasm of hers—the third, or the fourth, we’d already lost count—brought me too. I sank to the hilt into her ass and came inside her, shot after shot, body shaking, unable to think of anything else, clutching her hips as if I might fall.

I pulled out slowly, carefully, and saw a thick thread of semen running down the inside of her thigh. Rodrigo pulled out after and another thread, whiter, joined the first. Luciana was left with her legs open, dripping from both of us, with a tired, stupid smile on her face.

We collapsed on our sides however we could, half tangled, half limp.

***

We stayed like that for a while without talking. Our breathing gradually calmed. Luciana had her eyes closed and a smile she made no attempt to hide.

—That was good —Rodrigo said, with the simplicity that sometimes is the only possible answer.

—That was spectacular —she corrected, without opening her eyes.

The three of us went to the bathroom. The shower was meant for two, but the three of us managed without it mattering too much. I soaped Luciana’s back and ran my hand between her cheeks to wash her properly, and she laughed and bit my shoulder. Rodrigo, behind her, kissed her neck while the water fell.

Rodrigo left first. Luciana saw him off with a kiss on the cheek, without drama. He picked up his bag and left with the same calm he’d arrived with, like someone who knows how to distinguish what was from what continues.

I stayed sprawled on the bed with Luciana resting against my chest and I didn’t think about the details, but about something broader: the strangeness of having been able to be completely myself, in every dimension, in front of another person. Without managing which part to show according to the audience. Without saving anything for another time.

She had known me like that from the beginning. But that night, finally, she had seen it.