Male Friends

I’d spent years swallowing her taunts and playing the patient friend. That August afternoon, on her balcony facing the sea, something inside me broke.

I went down to the living room half asleep and found her on the floor in leggings, following a video. Then she turned her head, smiled, and asked if I wanted to join her.

I’ve always had a strange fixation. That afternoon I decided my best friend would be the first to obey me, on his knees and with nothing to hide.

Connor didn’t speak a word of Spanish, so when I started stripping my wife in front of him, he didn’t understand a thing until it was already too late to leave.

When I went back to the kitchen for the ice, my best friend was on her knees in front of one of the guys. And the others were right behind me.

I went down to the living room in a thong, knowing he was watching me from the other sofa. Through the wall, my friend was streaming live with her boyfriend. And all I could think about was which door to open that night.

She lowered her voice and whispered in my ear while dancing: tonight I want you to watch me with your two friends. And instead of stopping her, I played along.

They arrived at six sharp, kissed me one by one as soon as they walked in, and I knew that night I wouldn’t be the one setting the rules.

I knew that devil costume was too daring, but what I couldn’t imagine was how far I’d be willing to go once I left my panties hidden in the bathroom.

When the Mistress snapped her fingers, I knew my wife would stop being only mine that night, and I’d watch every second without looking away.

Her mouth around my cock woke me up, and I knew the second day in the beach house was going to be even longer than the first.

We’d been seeing each other for six months as friends, never daring to do anything. That night, while we spun the bottle, I realized they wanted a lot more than our company.

It was our last night, and there were no more turns or games: just eight friends, a lot of skin, and the quiet promise that no one would be left unsatisfied.

I came out of the bathroom wrapped in nothing but a towel and crossed the living room slowly, knowing both men’s eyes would follow me to the bedroom.

We were seeing each other again a year after that trip, and this time Marina brought a guest who had no idea what we were going to do in that house by the lake.

We swore a hundred times that nothing would happen with them. We swore it until we convinced ourselves. Then they called us to their room and she was waiting for us naked.

Lucía put the tequila bottle in the center of the rug and smiled: whoever failed the dare drank. None of us imagined how far we were willing to go that night.

I’d known her since we were children: sweet, quiet, the perfect wife. Until I walked into that club in the city and saw her stretched out on the table, surrounded by men.