The First Time I Did It with a Couple

It all started one Wednesday afternoon, with a call I hadn’t expected.

Valeria sounded strange on the phone. Not frightened, but at that exact point between anger and confusion that people hit when something happens to them and they don’t know how to process it. She told me that the night before, while they were having dinner, Marcos had dropped the proposal on her: he wanted a threesome with another woman. He had even told her who he’d like it to be with.

Someone like me.

I listened to it all without interrupting her. I didn’t ask many questions. But there was something in the way she told me, in how she lowered her voice when she got to the details and then raised it again, that made me think she wasn’t calling me just to vent.

“Well,” I said at last. “What do you think?”

There was a long pause.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Call me later.”

She didn’t call again until nine that night.

“I bought beer,” she said. “Come over.”

I should have thought about it more. I should have put on the first thing I found in the closet and gone over like any other day. But I didn’t. I showered slowly. I put on lotion. I chose the tight sleeveless dress I know looks good on me, the one that falls just above my knees. And underneath it, for some reason I didn’t want to analyze too much, I put on a lace thong that had no intention of being shown to anyone.

That’s what I told myself as I walked out the door.

***

Valeria opened the door before I could knock. She was wearing a white dress with a low neckline and a cut that showed the upper part of her breasts. Her hair was down, freshly done, and she smelled like something floral I didn’t know. She looked me up and down in the doorway with a calm smile.

“You look pretty,” she said.

“So do you,” I replied, and it was true.

The apartment was dimly lit. Only one lamp was on in the corner, the TV off. We sat on the sofa with cold beers between our fingers and started talking. About unimportant things at first. Work, a series we had both given up on halfway through. And then, inevitably, about Marcos and the proposal.

Valeria told me about it again, this time more calmly, with more detail. I listened to her and felt the distance between us on the sofa shrinking without either of us suggesting it. At one point she leaned over to put her bottle on the coffee table and her shoulder brushed mine. She didn’t pull away.

“You smell really good,” she said, looking at me closely.

I was wearing that dress fully intending for something like this to happen. That was the only thing I knew for sure at that moment.

A few minutes later, she picked up her phone and texted Marcos. She told me bluntly:

“I told him to come over. To bring more beer.”

I nodded. Took a long sip. And we waited.

***

Marcos arrived twenty minutes later with a plastic bag rattling with bottles. He was a dark-haired man with strong arms and a measured voice that always seemed to have everything under control. He looked at the two of us before coming fully inside, sizing something up without saying it.

“Did you tell her already?” he asked Valeria.

She laughed.

“You’re insane. No.”

I pretended not to understand anything, though I understood perfectly.

Marcos sat down with us. The conversation continued, but the temperature had changed. Beneath every sentence there was another, more direct one none of the three of us spoke aloud. He had a bottle in his hand and looked back and forth between us with a calm that was almost provocative.

It was Marcos who stood up first. He dragged the rug from the center of the room and spread it out on the floor.

“There’s more space here,” he said simply.

Valeria didn’t object. Neither did I. The three of us lay back on the rug, with the bottles between us. Valeria ended up to my right, Marcos to my left. The lamp in the corner lit them from the side, and I realized the whole apartment smelled of Valeria’s perfume.

A little later, without anyone giving any clear signal, Valeria and Marcos turned toward each other and kissed.

It wasn’t a quick kiss. It was a long kiss, with tongue, with his hands sliding up her thigh until they disappeared under the white dress. Inches from my face I saw Marcos’s fingers part the fabric and touch her cunt over her panties. I saw Valeria open her legs a little wider and let him do it.

When they finished, Valeria looked at me with wet lips.

“Kiss her,” she told him.

Marcos turned to me with the same calm he brought to everything. He cupped my face with one hand and kissed me slowly, unhurriedly, as if he had been thinking for a long time about doing it exactly like that. He pushed his whole tongue in and I sucked on it for a moment before I realized what I was doing. Meanwhile, I felt Valeria’s fingers slide along my arm, down to my waist, stay there for a moment, then suddenly move up and slip into the neckline of my dress. She squeezed one breast. Then the other. She pinched my nipples until they hardened against my bra.

All of it was real. It was happening.

Valeria pushed the dress up. I let her. She hauled it to my waist, wrinkled, and paused for a moment staring at my lace thong as if it were a gift. She slid her fingers under the edge and moved it aside carefully, without roughness. One finger first, slowly. Then two. She pulled them out shiny and pushed them back in, twisting them, curving them upward, searching for a spot inside me I hadn’t even known I had.

“You’re soaked,” she murmured. “Look at you.”

My legs opened on their own. It wasn’t a decision. It was a reflex.

Marcos was still kissing me. He slipped a hand under the dress and found a breast while Valeria finger-fucked me. My hands were braced on the rug because I didn’t know where else to put them. Valeria moved with a precision that threw me off: she knew exactly what to do, when to speed up, when to stop just before I got where I was going. She kept me on the edge, let me breathe, then started again.

Then she lowered her head.

***

When her mouth touched me, I closed my eyes. It was something different from what I’d felt before with other people. There was a specific attention there, a way of reading a body that can’t be improvised. She sucked my clit with her lips, slowly, like it was a candy she didn’t want to finish. Then she flattened her tongue and licked me from bottom to top in one long pass that arched my back.

Marcos had one hand inside my dress, squeezing a breast, playing with the nipple between thumb and forefinger. With the other he had opened his pants and pulled out his cock. He was masturbating beside me while kissing my neck. I caught a sidelong glimpse of it: thick, hard, the tip shining. He was gripping it with his whole hand and stroking it up and down without haste.

Valeria worked with her mouth and fingers at the same time, slowly, without urgency, as if we had all night. The two fingers went in and out of me with a wet sound that filled the room. Her tongue never stopped moving over my clit.

They had me.

I wondered how it was possible that I had gone so long without knowing I wanted this.

Then Marcos sat up and arranged me on top of him. The two of us with our backs to the sofa, facing Valeria, who was kneeling in front of us with her dress hiked up to her thighs and her hair a little mussed. She slid her fingers into me again. Pulled them out. Offered them to us in silence, first to Marcos, then to me. I licked them without hesitation, looking her in the eyes, tasting myself in my mouth. Marcos did the same.

“I love it,” he said softly. “I love doing that to you. I love how you taste.”

Marcos spread my legs from behind with both hands, one on each knee, leaving me completely open in front of Valeria. I felt his cock hard against the small of my back. Valeria leaned in and resumed what she was doing with her mouth, while with her other hand she reached for her husband over my shoulder. She took him, stroked him for a moment, took him briefly into her mouth without taking her eyes off me — I watched her swallow half of Marcos’s cock with her eyes locked on mine — and then guided him toward me with a firmness that left no doubt.

I felt him enter slowly. Very slowly. Centimeter by centimeter. Valeria pushed him in with her own hands, regulating the pressure, controlling the pace as if she were directing something she had rehearsed many times. When Marcos was all the way inside me, she stayed there for a moment with her hand resting at the base of his cock, feeling us move in and out.

“Like this,” she whispered. “Like this, slow, so she can take it well.”

Then she moved behind me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. Kissed my nape. My earlobe. She spoke very close to me. With one hand she squeezed a breast, with the other she searched for my clit while Marcos fucked me from underneath.

“Do you like the way we’re fucking you?” she whispered. “Tell me. Tell me you like my husband putting his cock in you while I touch you.”

“Yes,” I answered. “Yes, fuck, yes.”

It was the only thing I could say.

***

We changed positions without anyone coordinating it. I got on all fours on the rug. Valeria lay back in front of me, legs open, her white dress wrinkled around her waist and her pussy pink, wet, shining under the lamp’s light. She wasn’t wearing panties. I don’t know when she took them off. Marcos took position behind me and drove his cock into me in one single thrust that made me moan against the floor.

From that angle I could see Valeria’s face clearly: how she closed her eyes when Marcos pushed in, how she snapped them open and looked directly at me, how she bit her lip to keep from making noise and then made it anyway. With one hand she squeezed a breast over the neckline of the dress and with the other she spread her lips for me.

I went toward her. I pushed her hair aside from her thighs with my hand. And I gave back, with all the attention I could muster, what she had given me before. I ran my whole tongue from bottom to top and tasted her for the first time: strong, salty, mine. I sucked her clit the same way she had sucked mine, with my lips closed around it, pulling gently. I slid two fingers inside her and curled them upward.

Valeria let out a long, sharp moan that was cut off when Marcos sped up behind me.

It was a perfect chain. Every thrust from Marcos pushed me forward, against Valeria’s cunt, and made me bury my tongue deeper. Every time I sucked her, she shoved her hips toward my face, asking for more. The three of us fed off one another’s rhythm without having to say anything. The sound of flesh striking flesh, the moans muffled against Valeria’s sex, Marcos’s heavy breathing over everything.

I thought: now I understand why people seek this out.

Valeria tangled her fingers in my hair. Not to guide me, but to have something to hold on to. She pressed my head against her every time Marcos thrust hard, as if the force he gave me was something she received too, in her clit, in her cunt opened against my mouth.

Marcos grabbed my hips with both hands and started fucking me faster, deeper. I could hear his balls slapping against me every time he went all the way in. He pulled out suddenly, spat on my ass, and shoved it back in all at once. Then he pressed his thumb into the place where he’d just spat. I screamed against Valeria’s cunt.

“Hold on,” he murmured. “Hold on a little longer.”

***

Valeria was the first to come. Her whole body changed a few seconds before it happened: her thighs tensed beside my head, the fingers in my hair stopped moving, her breathing caught. And then, all at once, a hot gush against my mouth, my chin, my hands. She came like a man, in spurts, soaking my face and the rug beneath her.

It was abundant. It was unexpected. It was the most erotic thing I had experienced up to that point. I didn’t stop licking her while she came, and she didn’t stop pressing me against her cunt, choking me with her orgasm.

My fingers inside her prolonged it. Every time I moved them, more came. Her hips followed my hand, rising toward me, asking me not to stop. She gave a second, smaller gush, almost a rebound, when I gently bit her clit.

Marcos was moving faster and faster behind me. I heard his breathing grow more irregular, shorter. He dug his fingertips into my hips, almost violently. And I began to feel something of my own, something building up from very deep inside that I wasn’t going to be able to hold back. My cunt was trembling around his cock. My thighs were giving out.

“I’m coming,” I said out loud, pulling my mouth away from Valeria’s sex for a second. “I’m coming now, I can’t take it anymore.”

Marcos pulled out of me at that moment and lowered his head. Valeria turned too, still trembling from her own orgasm, and lowered herself with him. The two of them were there at the same time, his mouth and hers, on my cunt, on my clit, on everything I had there, on everything I was in that moment. I felt two tongues at once, one licking my clit and the other going straight into my cunt, still open and dripping from Marcos’s cock.

The intensity of it — two mouths at once, uncoordinated, unplanned, each doing its own thing — was what made me lose control completely. I didn’t scream. I moaned hard, with my forehead pressed to the rug and my arms trembling all the way to the elbows. I came in their mouths for what felt like minutes, with spasms climbing up my back and running down my thighs.

When I finally went still, Marcos sat up, grabbed his cock with his hand, and came over my ass and lower back in two or three strokes of his own fist. I felt hot semen spilling in bursts, sliding down my skin. Valeria伸 out a finger, ran it through the trail, and brought it to her mouth without saying a word.

***

After that, the three of us lay on the rug for a while I didn’t measure. The bottles were still in the corner. The lamp was still on. Nobody spoke for several minutes.

It was Valeria who broke the silence first, with a small laugh, almost to herself. Marcos followed. So did I, though a little later because I was still catching my breath.

That night was my first time with a couple. Not with a new person, not with someone I didn’t know: with a whole couple, with everything that implies. With the complexity of two different bodies moving at the same time over mine. With the beautiful strangeness of sharing something like that with someone you’ve known for years and who, at the same time, that night feels completely new.

I hadn’t planned it. I hadn’t even imagined it. But when I left that apartment, much later than I had intended, I knew two things for certain: that every minute had been worth it, and that it wouldn’t be the last time I did it.