What Happened That Night with Ramón and His Boyfriend

There are things you don’t know about yourself until someone shows them to you. I was thirty-two, with an office job that left me too drained to think about much, and a private life I shared with no one. Outwardly I was the serious guy, the responsible professional, the one who never caused trouble. Inwardly I was another story, one I was still learning how to tell.

Ramón and César had been together for almost three years when I met them at work. They were discreet, normal, the kind of couple that doesn’t need to announce itself. Ramón was a systems technician, César worked in accounting. We became the sort of friends who get together on Fridays, drink beer, and complain about the boss. I never thought one of those nights would end up changing something in me.

The invitation came on a Thursday over WhatsApp. Ramón: “Coming Saturday? Beers, dominoes, no plans.” I answered yes without hesitation. I needed to get out of the apartment.

***

Their place was on the fourth floor of a building without an elevator in the center of town. I climbed the stairs with a bag of cold beers and was greeted by low music and the domino board already on the table. It was a quiet Saturday. Nothing suggested it would end the way it did.

The first two hours were exactly what I expected: domino tiles, laughter, more beers than I should have had. César was the best player of the three and he knew it. Ramón lost with elegance. I lost because the alcohol kept clouding my concentration and because at some point I stopped caring about winning.

It was César who proposed changing the rules. He said it abruptly, as if he’d been thinking about it for a while.

—Whoever loses a hand has to take off one item of clothing.

Ramón looked at him with that half-smile of his I already knew. I took a second to answer.

—Okay —I said.

I don’t know why I said it. The alcohol, maybe. Or maybe something else, something that had been waiting a long time for an excuse to come out.

The next rounds were different. The conversation shifted in tone, the jokes got more direct, and the atmosphere in that small living room filled with something none of us named but all of us felt. I kept losing clothes without much drama: first my shoes, then my shirt, then my belt. Ramón kept pace. César seemed to be winning on purpose.

When I was left in nothing but my briefs, I got up to grab another beer. And then it happened.

I felt Ramón’s hands from behind. Not rough, not urgent. Just his hands around my waist, his lips brushing my ear, his voice very low telling me something that made my pulse race.

—I’ve been watching you for a while —he said.

I turned around. Looked him in the eyes. He held my gaze without taking his hands off my hips.

I kissed him first. I don’t know where that gesture came from, but I did it, and Ramón answered with a pressure that left no doubt. Behind me, I heard César getting up from the sofa.

***

Ramón had a long, thick cock that was obvious against my thigh even with clothes on. When I took it out, I was impressed. It was big, one of those you see in porn and think can’t be real. I knelt in front of him without anyone asking me to. I did it because I wanted to.

I took him into my mouth slowly, adjusting to his size, feeling every inch with my tongue. Ramón’s moans were the best confirmation that I was doing it right. He took my hair gently, without forcing anything, and I found my own rhythm.

César came up on my side. He was hard too. His cock was smaller, thinner, but perfectly proportioned. When I saw it I thought: that’ll go in without any trouble. And it did. I took it all into my mouth, the full length, and felt something like pride when he let out his breath all at once.

I switched between the two of them for a good while. From one to the other, kneeling on the floor of that living room, with music still playing in the background and the beers half-finished on the table. It was an absurd scene and a perfect one at the same time.

While I was sucking Ramón, I felt César’s fingers searching for something behind me. First one, then two, with a deliberate slowness that made me clench my fists. I had never had anything there. Never. And yet my body responded as if it had always been waiting for it.

He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue.

I let Ramón’s cock go and stayed still, my head resting on his thigh, focused on what César was doing to me. His tongue was patient, methodical, and every time he pushed it in a little deeper I felt something inside me giving way.

—To the bed —Ramón said.

***

The bedroom was simple: a double bed, a lamp on the nightstand, the blinds closed. I got on all fours without anyone telling me to. It was the natural position, the one my body wanted.

César positioned himself behind me. I felt the head of his cock against my hole and instinctively tensed. He didn’t rush. He waited, pressed calmly, and went in little by little with a slowness that was almost a form of care.

It burned. I’m not going to lie: it burned a lot at first. A sting spreading inward that made me close my eyes and clench my jaw. But César didn’t move until I started moving first, and then the burning eased and something completely different took its place.

While César fucked me from behind, Ramón got down on his knees in front of me and brought his cock to my mouth. I stayed like that for a time I couldn’t measure: Ramón’s cock in my mouth, César inside me, the sound of the bed, the three of us breathing hard.

My own cock hung hard without anyone touching it. It was a detail I found curious: I was completely turned on while being fucked, without needing any other stimulation. The body knows things the mind takes longer to process.

César started to speed up. His hands on my hips, pulling me with each thrust. He spanked my ass hard, the sound echoing through the room and, to my surprise, instead of bothering me it made me want more.

—I want you to come on my face —I told César at one point, without having thought it through before saying it.

He pulled out of me. I turned around and knelt in front of him. I jerked him off by hand until he came: six or seven spurts of semen that hit my cheek, my nose, my mouth. I stayed still, taking it all, eyes half-closed.

I gathered the semen with my fingers and put it in my mouth. Salty, thick, with a taste I didn’t dislike.

Ramón was watching me from the bed, still hard.

***

I went over to him. I laid him back on the bed and spread his legs calmly. I licked his cock from top to bottom, then his balls, then went farther down until my tongue found his asshole. I worked him over slowly, feeling him tense and then open. I slid my fingers in carefully, one first, then two, while I kept using my mouth on his cock.

When I penetrated him, Ramón let out a sound that didn’t seem like pain but something more complicated. I pushed in very slowly, letting his body get used to mine. He was tight and warm and I felt myself being swallowed.

I went in centimeter by centimeter until I was all the way inside. I stopped. He took a deep breath. Then he nodded, and I started moving.

The fucking was slow at first and grew more intense as we both found the rhythm. Ramón was jerking himself off while I penetrated him, his hand moving in the same beat as my thrusts. César, who had recovered, was masturbating seated on the edge of the bed, watching the scene.

When Ramón came, he did it in silence, with only a long, tense moan, and his semen spread across his chest and abdomen. I licked it all up. I can’t explain why I did it; I simply did, and the taste was the same as before: thick, salty, strangely good.

I came inside him a minute later. I pulled out slowly and lay down beside him, too weak to move.

***

The night wasn’t over.

I felt César behind me again. His hands on my hips, lifting me slightly. He went in all at once and started fucking me without preamble, faster than before, with an energy he really shouldn’t have had after everything we’d already done. I was lying back on Ramón’s chest, which was lazily stroking my hair, and between them the two of them had me completely immobilized and completely at ease.

César was ruthless with me that second time. He called me all kinds of things in a hoarse voice, spanked me hard, asked if I wanted it harder, and I answered yes with my face buried in Ramón’s shoulder. It was exactly what it was: raw sex, no story, no meaning beyond the three of us getting pleasure.

He came inside me. I felt the heat of his semen and stayed still, letting his cock go flaccid before he pulled out. Then he got up without saying anything and went to the bathroom.

Ramón ruffled my hair.

—Are you okay? —he asked.

—Yeah —I said.

And it was true.

***

I showered in their bathroom. The hot water eased my muscles and the sting back there, which by then was more memory than discomfort. I stayed under the stream longer than necessary, eyes closed, sorting through what had happened.

I didn’t feel regret. I looked for it and couldn’t find it. What I did find was something like clarity, the feeling of having reached a place that had always been there but I had never visited.

I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and Ramón pointed at the bed.

—Stay if you want. It’s late.

I stayed. I fell asleep almost immediately, my body exhausted and something in my chest that took me days to identify but that, now that I think about it, was simply satisfaction.

The next morning we drank coffee without asking too many questions. César made scrambled eggs. Ramón put on music. I was sitting in the chair with my ass still sensitive and a smile I couldn’t quite hide.

—Next Saturday? —César asked as he poured the coffee.

I looked at him. I thought about it for exactly half a second.

—Yeah —I said.