The First Time I Did It with a Couple

It all started one Wednesday afternoon, with a call I wasn’t expecting.

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

Someone like me.

I listened to everything 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 hadn’t called me just to vent.

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

There was a long pause.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “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 my closet and gone over like any other day. But I didn’t. I showered slowly. I put on lotion. I chose the tight-strapped dress I know looks good on me, the one that falls just above my knee. And underneath it, for some reason I didn’t want to examine too closely, a lace thong that I had no intention of showing 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 low-cut white dress, with a cut that revealed the upper part of her breasts. Her hair was loose, freshly styled, and she smelled of something floral I didn’t recognize. She looked me up and down in the doorway with a calm smile.

“You look beautiful,” she said.

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

The apartment was dim. Only one lamp was on in the corner, and the television was off. We sat on the couch with cold beers between our fingers and started talking. About unimportant things at first. Work, a series we had both abandoned halfway through. And then, inevitably, about Marcos and his proposal.

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

“You smell very good,” she said, looking at me from close up.

I had put on that dress with the express intention of making something like this happen. That was the only thing I knew for certain at that moment.

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

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

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

***

Marcos arrived twenty minutes later with a plastic bag that clinked 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 both of us before coming all the way in, assessing something without saying it.

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

She laughed.

“You’re crazy. Of course not.”

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

Marcos sat down with us. The conversation continued, but its temperature had changed. Beneath every sentence was another, more direct one, that none of the three of us spoke aloud. He had a bottle in his hand and looked from one of us to the other with a calmness that was almost provocative.

Marcos was the first to stand up. He dragged the rug from the center of the room and spread it over the floor.

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

Valeria didn’t object. Neither did I. The three of us reclined on the rug, our bottles between us. Valeria was on my right, Marcos on my left. The lamp in the corner lit them from the side, and I realized the entire apartment smelled of Valeria’s perfume.

A while 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 tongues, with his hands traveling up her thigh until they disappeared beneath the white dress. Inches from my face, I watched Marcos’s fingers move the fabric aside and touch her pussy through her panties. I watched Valeria open her legs a little wider and let him.

When they finished, Valeria looked at me with her mouth wet.

“Kiss her,” she told him.

Marcos turned toward me with the same calmness he brought to everything. He took my face in one hand and kissed me slowly, without hurrying, as if he had been thinking for some time about doing it exactly that way. He pushed his whole tongue into my mouth, and I sucked on it for a moment before realizing what I was doing. Meanwhile, I felt Valeria’s fingers slide along my arm, move down to my waist, linger there for a moment, then suddenly travel up and slip into the neckline of my dress. She squeezed one breast. Then the other. She pinched my nipples until they stiffened against my bra.

All of it was real. It was happening.

Valeria pushed my dress upward. I let her. She pulled it up to my waist, bunched up, and paused to look at my lace thong as if it were a gift. She slipped her fingers beneath the edge and carefully moved it aside, without being rough. One finger first, slowly. Then two. She pulled them out glistening and slid them back inside me, twisting them, curling them upward, searching for a spot inside me I hadn’t even known I had.

“You’re soaking wet,” she murmured. “Look at how wet you are.”

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

Marcos kept kissing me. He slipped one hand beneath my dress and found one of my breasts while Valeria fucked me with her fingers. I had my hands braced on the rug because I didn’t know where else to put them. Valeria moved with a precision that disoriented me: 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, and started again.

Then she lowered her head.

***

When her mouth touched me, I closed my eyes. It was different from anything I had felt before with other people. There was a particular attentiveness, a way of reading the body that couldn’t be improvised. She sucked my clitoris with her lips, slowly, as if it were a candy she didn’t want to finish. Then she flattened her tongue and licked me from bottom to top, in one long stroke that made me arch my back.

Marcos had one hand inside my dress, squeezing one of my breasts, playing with the nipple between his 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 saw it from the corner of my eye: thick, hard, the tip glistening. He wrapped his whole hand around it and stroked himself up and down without hurrying.

Valeria worked with her mouth and fingers at the same time, without haste, without urgency, as if we had the whole night ahead of us. Her two fingers moved in and out of me with a wet sound that filled the room. Her tongue never stopped moving over my clitoris.

She had me.

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

Then Marcos sat down and settled me on top of him. We were both with our backs against the couch, facing Valeria, who was kneeling in front of us with her dress pulled up to her thighs and her hair slightly disheveled. She put her fingers inside me again. She pulled them out. She offered them to us in silence, first to Marcos, then to me. I sucked them without hesitation, looking into her eyes, tasting myself in her mouth. Marcos did the same.

“I love it,” he said quietly. “I love doing this to you. I love how you taste.”

Marcos spread my legs from behind, one hand on each knee, leaving me completely open in front of Valeria. I felt his hard cock against the small of my back. Valeria leaned forward and resumed what she had been doing with her mouth, while her other hand searched for her husband over my shoulder. She took him, caressed him for a moment, briefly brought him to 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 room for doubt.

I felt him enter slowly. Very slowly. Inch by inch. 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 completely inside me, she kept her hand at the base of his cock for a moment, feeling us move in and out.

“That’s it,” she whispered. “Like that, slowly, so she can take it.”

Then she positioned herself behind me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. She kissed the nape of my neck. My earlobe. She spoke very close to me. With one hand she squeezed one of my breasts; with the other she searched for my clitoris while Marcos fucked me from below.

“Do you like the way we fuck you?” she whispered. “Tell me. Tell me you like my husband putting his cock inside you while I touch you.”

“Yes,” I replied. “Yes, fuck, yes.”

It was the only thing I could say.

***

We changed positions without anyone coordinating it. I got down on all fours on the rug. Valeria reclined on her back in front of me, legs spread, her white dress bunched around her waist and her pink, wet pussy glistening beneath the lamplight. She wasn’t wearing panties. I don’t know when she had taken them off. Marcos positioned himself behind me and drove his cock into me with one thrust that made me moan against the floor.

From that angle I could see Valeria’s face clearly: the way she closed her eyes when Marcos thrust, the way she opened them suddenly and looked straight at me, the way she bit her lip to keep from making a sound and then made one anyway. With one hand she squeezed a breast above the dress’s neckline, and with the other she spread her lips for me.

I moved closer to her. I brushed the hair away from her thighs with my hand. And I returned, with all the attention I could give, what she had given me earlier. I ran my whole tongue from bottom to top and tasted her for the first time: strong, salty, mine. I sucked her clitoris the way she had sucked mine, my lips closed around it, tugging gently. I slipped two fingers inside her and curled them upward.

Valeria let out a long, high moan that broke off when Marcos sped up behind me.

It was a perfect chain. Every thrust from Marcos pushed me forward, against Valeria’s pussy, and made me push my tongue deeper inside her. Every time I sucked her, she thrust her hips toward my face, seeking 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 above it all.

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 herself every time Marcos thrust hard, as if the force he gave me reached her too, in her clitoris, in her pussy opened against my mouth.

Marcos gripped my hips with both hands and began fucking me faster, deeper. I could hear his balls slapping me every time he went all the way in. He pulled out abruptly, spat on my ass, and drove back into me in a single thrust. Then he pushed his thumb into the place where he had just spit. I screamed against Valeria’s pussy.

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

***

Valeria came first. Her entire body changed a few seconds before it happened: her thighs tensed on either side of my head, the fingers in my hair stopped moving, her breathing caught. And then, suddenly, 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.

There was a lot of it. It was unexpected. It was the most erotic thing I had experienced up to that point. I didn’t stop sucking her while she came, and she didn’t stop pressing me against her pussy, choking me with her release.

My fingers inside her prolonged it. Every time I moved them, more came. Her hips followed me, rising toward me, asking me not to stop. A second, smaller gush came out, almost as an aftershock, when I gently bit her clitoris.

Marcos moved 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 that had been building deep inside me and that I wouldn’t be able to contain. My pussy trembled around his cock. My thighs gave way.

“I’m coming,” I said aloud, pulling my mouth away from Valeria’s sex for a second. “I’m coming now, I can’t take any more.”

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. They were both there at the same time, his mouth and hers, on my pussy, on my clitoris, on everything I had there, on everything I was at that moment. I felt two tongues at once, one licking my clitoris and the other going directly into my pussy, still open and dripping with Marcos’s cock.

The intensity of it—two mouths at once, without coordination, without a plan, each doing its own thing—was what made me lose control completely. I didn’t scream. I moaned loudly, my forehead pressed against the rug and my arms trembling to the elbows. I came into their mouths for what seemed like minutes, with spasms that climbed up my back and ran down my thighs.

When I finally lay still, Marcos sat up, grasped his cock in his hand, and came over my ass and lower back with two or three thrusts of his own fist. I felt the hot semen falling over me in spurts, sliding down my skin. Valeria extended a finger, ran it through the trail, and brought it to her mouth without saying a word.

***

Afterward, the three of us lay on the rug for an amount of time I didn’t measure. The bottles were still in the corner. The lamp was still on. No one spoke for several minutes.

Valeria was the first to break the silence, with a small laugh, almost to herself. Marcos followed. I did too, though it took me a little longer 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 complete couple, with everything that entails. With the complexity of two different bodies moving over mine at the same time. With the beautiful strangeness of sharing something like that with someone you’ve known for years and who, at the same time, feels completely new to you that night.

I hadn’t planned it. I hadn’t even imagined it. But when I left that apartment, much later than I had expected, 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.