The Bar Couple Made Me Carry Out a Forbidden Fantasy

My friends decided to move us to another bar. The music devoured our words and certain looks were starting to make them uncomfortable. Those same looks lit a silent current in me that I didn’t know how to hide, especially the ones from a couple sitting in the back who had been watching me for a good while without apologizing for it.

I felt the danger of staying, so I paid my tab and followed them toward the exit. Just before crossing the door, trapped in the crowd, a delicate hand brushed my waist. Soft, almost innocent, but with an intention that stopped me cold inside.

Before I could turn around, a rough, close voice murmured against my ear.

—Why are you leaving? Is it that boring to you?

—Not at all —I said with a half smile—. I love coming here. But my friends already want to go.

She looked at me with a spark I recognized instantly.

—Then why don’t you stay a little longer, with my husband and me? Our treat.

I knew perfectly well what that implied. I tried to play innocent, but a throb between my legs shot through me so fast it almost gave me away. At that moment one of my friends showed up, flustered.

—Carla, let’s go already! What are you waiting for?

For a few seconds I was trapped in doubt. And then that part of me that always sought out the forbidden, what arouses more than it frightens, raised its voice inside my chest.

I breathed in, turned to her, and, unable to hide the spark in my eyes, answered calmly.

—I’m staying.

She didn’t wait another second. She took my hand with a firmness that stole my breath and led me to their table. Her husband stood up with a broad, almost grateful smile, as if she had just gotten exactly what he had been hoping for.

We introduced ourselves between laughs and charged looks. The conversation flowed with surprising ease. The drinks arrived, warm and dangerous, sliding through me with a slow heat that mixed with everything: the blood, the pulse, the night.

I don’t know how much time passed. Until he spoke, cutting through the chatter with a confidence that made the silence around me sharpen.

—So, Carla, do we continue somewhere a little longer, at our place?

I was pretending to be composed, but I already had a whirlwind inside me, that urgency that only needed someone brave enough to name it. I nodded, nervous, and he asked for the check.

***

We left through the crowd like a newly formed secret. He walked in front, clearing the way with the certainty of someone who had already decided for the three of us. She slipped her arm around my waist, this time without pretending, her palm warm and firm. We got into the car and, as soon as he started it, I knew there was no turning back.

On the way he watched me in the rearview mirror, as if confirming I still wanted the same thing they did. And yes. I did.

The building had a narrow elevator. When the doors closed, with no witnesses and no music, the two of them looked at me at once. This wasn’t a “let’s keep the party going”; it was something else, more direct, more naked. Even so, I didn’t take a step back.

The apartment smelled of incense and something warmer. The light was low, just enough to see everything and feel like every shadow had its own pulse. He closed the door with a click that sounded more final than it should have.

—Do you want water, wine, or do we keep going with rum? —he asked from the entryway, though his voice floated more like courtesy than a real question.

I opened my mouth to answer, but I didn’t get a chance to say anything. She was the one who came over first, slowly, with the calm of someone who isn’t in a hurry because she knows exactly what she’s doing. She tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, a small gesture loaded with intent that forced me to hold my breath.

—Relax —she whispered, with a softness that had an edge to it—. You don’t have to decide anything yet.

I had already decided at the bar, I thought. My heart was beating so hard that any words I said would have come out trembling. Still, I managed to say it without embellishment.

—I’m staying.

She smiled first. He did too after that. He led me farther down the hall to a huge living room lit only by low lamps and the glow of the city spilling in through the picture window. He walked behind me in silence, but I could feel his attention tracing my back.

He sat me down on a wide sofa facing the glass. He offered me a glass and his fingers brushed mine as he handed it over; a current shot up my arm. She settled beside me, looking at me as if she could read everything I wasn’t saying.

She didn’t wait for me to finish the drink. I had barely taken a sip when she set the glass on the table and leaned toward me with a decisiveness that left no room for doubt. Her fingers wrapped around my wrist, firm, warm.

—Come here. I want to make you mine —she murmured.

It wasn’t an invitation. It was a sweet command. Her other hand slid up my arm to my shoulder, where it paused just long enough to make my breath catch. Then she ran her fingertips to the buttons of my blouse and undid them slowly, with the naturalness of someone who had always had the right to do it. The fabric gave way and the warm air wrapped my breasts just as my nipples hardened.

She held my gaze without touching me. Her breathing grew slower and heavier, as if she were holding herself back by sheer force of will. She didn’t try to close the distance; she stayed there, studying every tremor I couldn’t control. She didn’t need to touch me to make me feel claimed.

—Sit behind her —she told him, brooking no argument—. I want to see her properly.

He obeyed without a word. His hands guided me back until I was between his legs, my back against his firm chest, his breath grazing my neck like a restrained pulse. The atmosphere closed around us, thick, inevitable.

Her fingers slid down to my skirt and slowly pulled it off, while he wrapped his arms around me in a way that made it clear I had no escape anymore. I was completely naked between the two of them. She took me by the knees and parted my legs just enough for the light from the window to fall over me.

—So you came more prepared than I thought —she whispered, seeing the moisture I had been building for a while and could no longer hide.

He noticed too. He didn’t say anything, but I felt it: his breathing deepened and his erection pressed against my back. His hands rose to my breasts, holding back something on the verge of spilling over. She lifted her gaze to him with a mischievous smile.

—I think she liked that.

He tipped his head toward my ear, his voice lower than before.

—Do you realize what you’re doing? I haven’t even touched you, and look at you.

A shiver climbed from my belly to my throat. My back arched slightly against him. His words had touched me more than his hands, and she saw it all.

—You love being talked to like that —she said, amused, sure of herself, as if she were reading every thought I refused to admit.

I couldn’t deny it. Nor did I want to.

She leaned in with calculated slowness, bringing her mouth to the height of my already throbbing sex, almost brushing it.

—So willing, and nobody’s even touched you yet. Admit it: you’re thrilled to have us here, trapped between the two of us, with nowhere to run, waiting to see what we do with you.

He still didn’t say anything, but I felt it: his breath in my ear, his hands rising again to my breasts, pinching my nipples just enough to remind me who was controlling every reaction.

—See, sweetheart? —she told him—. You only need to breathe near her.

His hands slid down my thighs, toward the place where the skin is most vulnerable, to open me wider. She straightened and pointed at my crotch with her chin.

—I want you to show me yourself how ready you are. I’m not touching you until you do.

It was a challenge, and it appealed to the part of me that had always hated passivity. I felt his hand tighten on my thigh. I drew in a deep breath, closed my eyes for a second, and when I opened them, doubt was gone. My hand moved down along the line of desire, my eyes fixed on her. When I found the center of my own wetness, I pressed with my fingertip right where the friction was most intense.

She gasped, a small guttural sound I hadn’t expected. Her expression shifted from confidence to raw desire. Behind me, he repositioned me into an even more exposed angle and his thumb settled at the edge of my sex.

—Like that —he murmured, rough, victorious—. Do it for us.

My breathing broke into rhythmic gasps. Pleasure ran through me like a jolt. She knelt in front of me.

—Do you like being watched while you make yourself come? —her voice was lower, more excited.

My fingers worked for me, his firm pressure on my thigh, her breath over my skin. The sensation was overwhelming. When I came, my back arched against his chest and a moan escaped me without permission.

***

While I caught my breath, she began to undress slowly, forcing me to watch every inch of skin as it was revealed. Her skirt fell without haste; her blouse went up over her head and her breasts were bared, right at my eye level. Now there were two naked women: me, surrendered; her, kneeling, powerful and hungry.

—Now you’re ours —she whispered, while her hot tongue covered me completely.

The contrast was violent: her mouth attacking my still-sensitive nerves. A silent scream lodged in my throat. He took my chin and made me look at him over my shoulder.

—Look at how she devours you, Carla. You deserve it.

She gave me pleasure, he watched me enjoy it, and I was trapped between two fires. The intensity became unbearable. When she attacked harder, the orgasm hit me like a silent thunderclap and for a second I lost all sense of where I was.

When the tremors eased, she stood up, mouth shining, breathing hard.

—Your turn —she said.

She took my wrist and forced me to kneel on the soft rug, her naked body at my eye level. The humiliation of the position only intensified the heat in my belly. I understood there was no turning back now. With my eyes locked on hers, I didn’t need a second order: I leaned in, and my tongue found her center with the same devotion with which she had devoured me.

The scent of her arousal lit me up even more. She took me by the hair, guiding my head with a firmness that left no room for doubt.

—Devour me —she ordered, with a gasp that vibrated from her throat.

My mouth obeyed. I traced the path to her already exposed clit with my tongue. She arched her back and buried her fingers in my hair with a possessiveness that anchored me to her pleasure. I picked up the pace, sucking harder, wanting to be the instrument of her surrender.

Meanwhile, his presence became impossible to ignore. I was on my knees, my ass raised and exposed. His hand slid over the curve of my buttocks and stopped in the exact space between them, pressing with his palm, a gesture of control that made me gasp against her.

—That’s it, my love —he murmured—. Make her come.

I focused on the texture tightening around my tongue, on her breathing growing more and more broken. She gasped hard, her legs clamping against my head, and then she emptied into my mouth with a long cry of pure pleasure. Her legs gave way and she collapsed, holding on to my hair while her body convulsed.

***

He reacted immediately. The thumb that had been pressing my buttocks slid to find the tightest entrance, not to enter yet, but to mark the next point of control. I felt a mixture of surprise and exquisite fear.

—It’s time, baby. Now it’s my turn —he whispered against my ear.

She, still breathless, pulled away to look at me, her face marked by hungry expectation.

—Go ahead, love —she whispered, turned into the director of the scene.

He didn’t wait. He held me by the waist with one hand and I felt the brush of something much bigger and firmer finding its place. The first entry was a shock: a sharp burn followed by an overwhelming fullness that tore a stifled moan from me.

—Relax. Give in —he ordered, with a voice of steel.

I drew in a deep breath and, the instant my body yielded control, he pushed in slowly all the way. The second moan that escaped me was no longer pain, but the pure understanding of total surrender.

—That’s how it’s done —he hissed—. You’re ours.

And then he started. The first slap of his hand fell hard against my ass, just enough to make the skin burn.

—This is for being so horny —he said, and drove in deep.

The second landed on the other side, and the combination of burn and pleasure made sparks explode in my vision.

—And this is for not leaving when your friends asked you to.

He began moving in a dominant rhythm. Every thrust came with a slap, a rhythmic punishment marking the pace of my surrender. I couldn’t answer, only gasp, my face pressed to the rug.

She leaned over me, her warm breath at my nape, her voice like a sweet whip.

—Tell him yes, Carla. Tell him you love being used.

I lifted my head, searching for his face over my shoulder.

—Yes... I like it... please, don’t stop —I managed to say, my voice barely a broken thread.

His answer was a thrust so hard it lifted me from the rug. The rhythm turned savage, the blows faster. My ass burned under the assault, but the pain only fed the fire in my belly. I was no longer the woman who left a bar; I was an instrument of their pleasure.

Suddenly he stopped without pulling out of me. She, watching everything with wolfish eyes, lay down on her back in front of my face, a few inches away, her legs slightly apart.

—Back to your duty. I want to feel your tongue —she said, calm and satisfied.

I was trapped in absolute submission: him taking me from behind, her sex exposed in front of me. My tongue attacked at once. He used the movement to resume thrusting with renewed ferocity.

—That’s it. Earn the right to feel this —he demanded.

The frantic rhythm drove my face against her with every stroke, and I answered with animal hunger. She started trembling, her hands on my shoulders.

—Harder! I’m going to come on your face, Carla! —she ordered.

The second orgasm was coming for me too, fed by the tension of serving them both. My clit, brushed by the motion, throbbed uncontrollably.

—I’m coming! —he shouted, pressing me against her with one last thrust.

At the same time I felt her orgasm in my mouth. A tearing cry escaped my throat when mine hit me with the force of an earthquake. My body convulsed, my face buried against her, and the three of us collapsed onto the rug like shipwreck survivors after the storm.

***

We stayed like that for a long while, listening to our breathing and the city’s pulse through the glass. A thick silence, heavy with the smell of sex and surrender. She stroked my wet hair with unexpected tenderness.

—You need a bath —he said at last, his voice softer but still commanding.

They led me to a large shower. The hot water washed the traces of the night away while they stood on either side of me. It wasn’t a casual bath, but a ritual of possession: she washed my chest with a delicacy that contrasted with the ferocity of minutes before; he rubbed my back and my still-burning buttocks.

—This is so you remember who’s in charge —he murmured, and the water made the bruised skin burn a little more.

I felt completely exposed and cared for at the same time. When they finished, she took my chin.

—Now you’re clean, Carla. Ready to get dirty again.

They dried me between them and led me toward the window. The fresh air from the terrace greeted me when he pressed me against the glass railing, facing the city. My elbows on the cold pane, my breasts offered to the lights of thousands of strangers. Being naked and exposed before the whole city was pure aphrodisiac.

He stood behind me, his hands rising to my breasts.

—You’re quite the show, aren’t you? —he whispered—. I know you love being seen like this.

He pinched my nipples and the shock went straight to my sex. Then I saw her in the reflection of the glass: she was back, this time wearing a harness tight to her hips and a thick dildo swaying with every step.

—Your other owner has arrived —he announced.

She came up behind me. The tip brushed my entrance, searching for its place, and entered slowly, forcing my body open with a fullness that tore an acute cry from me. The sensation was overwhelming; I was still anchored by the view of the city and his hands under my chin, forcing me to look down.

—Welcome your owner. You know whose you are —he hissed, while she moved inside me with a firm, dominant cadence.

When she felt the tremor that announced my limit, she pulled out abruptly. The emptiness was a stab of need.

—That’s enough for now —she panted—. I want to see your face when you ask me for it.

And I knew, with the city throbbing below, that the night had only just begun and that I didn’t want it to end.