My Husband Chose the Clothes I Would Wear with the Other Man

When I got home after my second date with Damián, the first thing I saw was my husband chatting with my father-in-law on the sofa. They were both watching soccer with the kind of concentration that allowed for no interruptions. I said hello, and my father-in-law barely looked up from his plate of snacks.

—How did it go with your friends, honey? Did you have fun? —Rodrigo asked, and although he smiled as if he were talking about the weather, I knew perfectly well that he knew who I had gone out with.

—Yes, it was nice. Honestly, it was more interesting than I expected —I replied, holding his gaze for a second longer than necessary.

It was our secret, the one we couldn't name in front of his father. I went to the bedroom without adding anything, feeling his eyes follow me until I closed the door.

I lay down on the bed. My love for Rodrigo was absolute, and nothing that was happening cast any doubt on that; nevertheless, the more I tried to calm myself, the more the images from that afternoon returned. Damián spreading my legs in front of the hotel-room mirror, his face buried between my thighs, his tongue working my pussy with a patience that made me scream. My own reflection, aroused, unrecognizable, my tits bare and my nipples so hard they hurt. Without realizing it, I slid my hand beneath my clothes and began to caress myself slowly, going over every detail: the way he had spread my lips with two fingers before burying his cock in me with a single thrust, the way he had fucked me against the mirror while forcing me to watch myself come.

My fingers were already soaked. I rubbed my clitoris in slow circles, feeling my pussy contract on its own, begging for more. I inserted two fingers and arched over the bed, biting my lip to keep from moaning.

Then Rodrigo's face crossed my mind, and I stopped dead. Not like this. Not yet. I pulled out my hand, glistening with my juices, and stood up. I stepped beneath the cold water, but my nipples remained hard and an unbearable emptiness throbbed between my legs.

***

When I came out of the shower, he was already in bed, waiting for me.

—A long shower. So, did you have a really good time with your friend? —he said, and that smile of his never disappeared.

My cheeks felt hot. I slipped beneath the sheets, avoiding his gaze.

—It's what you wanted, isn't it?

—I just want you to tell me how you felt. Whether you enjoyed it, whether you thought of me at any point —he insisted, embracing me from behind.

His insistence finally wore me down, and I decided to let it all out at once, certain that he would get upset and that after a fight we'd return to normal.

—I liked it when he couldn't stop staring at my cleavage in the restaurant. He looked hypnotized, as if some force made him turn his head every time he had the chance —I said, exaggerating my tone a little.

I expected anger. Instead, I felt the sheet rise over his hips. I was left speechless.

—I'm sorry, honey —he murmured—. Just imagining you there, with him watching you… Will you tell me more?

I couldn't believe it. His cock was hard, and he wanted more details. But my man needed me, and I wasn't going to leave him like that.

—Does knowing what I did turn you on? Are you sure you want to hear it? —I asked, looking alternately at his eyes and at the bulge beneath the sheet.

—I'd love to know everything.

I slipped my hand beneath the fabric and grabbed his cock directly, with no underwear between us. It was hard as a rock, hot, with a drop of fluid already beading at the tip. I rubbed it with my thumb and brought it to my mouth, savoring him before wrapping my hand around it again. Feeling him that hard because of me made a moan escape me, and my pussy grew wet again.

—He stared at my breasts as if he wanted to resist and couldn't —I began, calmly masturbating him as I slid my hand from the base to the glans, squeezing on every upward stroke—. And I loved it. I felt like I owned everything, like I was the center of the world.

—And did things go further? —he asked, his breathing ragged.

—We went to a hotel. He threw me onto the bed and tore my panties off with his teeth. He spread my legs and ate my pussy until I screamed at him to stop, that I couldn't take any more. He made me come twice with his mouth before he even got his cock out. And when he did, honey… he's thick. Really thick.

Rodrigo moaned involuntarily, and I felt his cock pulse in my hand.

—I sucked him on my knees in front of him —I continued, squeezing his balls with my other hand—. I took the whole thing, all the way to my throat, until my eyes filled with tears. He grabbed my hair and fucked my mouth himself, and I loved it.

I felt him grow even harder between my fingers and increased my pace. Rodrigo moaned softly, his eyes closed, his hips thrusting against my fist.

—How did he do you? —he asked in a hoarse voice—. Tell me how he fucked you.

—He put me on all fours at the edge of the bed and shoved it into me in a single thrust. I screamed, honey, I screamed so loudly he had to cover my mouth. He drove it all the way in, to the hilt, pulling almost all the way out and slamming it back in. He spanked me while he fucked me, and I asked him for it, begged him to do it harder, deeper. He spread my ass with his thumbs and spit there while he pounded me. He called me a slut, and I told him yes, that I was his slut.

—Oh my God… —Rodrigo gasped.

—Then he rolled me onto my back, lifted my legs onto his shoulders, and split me open. He looked into my eyes while he buried himself in me to the balls. I watched him slide in and out of me, shining. I came so hard my vision blurred; I felt my pussy squeeze his cock, and he kept going, kept going, until he spilled inside me and filled me completely. I felt every jet, honey, hot, all the way inside.

I was masturbating him quickly now, my hand sliding through the wetness of his own arousal, feeling the first warm drops on my fingers.

—I know you —he said, glancing at me, barely able to speak—. You love finishing what you start.

I threw back the sheets and pounced on his cock without thinking twice. I took the whole thing in one thrust, sealing my lips tightly around the base and letting the glans hit the back of my throat. I began sucking him hungrily, bobbing my head up and down, swirling my tongue around him, sucking his balls between thrusts. Rodrigo grabbed my hair and began fucking my mouth without restraint, moaning my name. He didn't take long to explode. I felt the first jets hit my palate and stayed still, squeezing him with my tongue, swallowing every spurt without wasting a drop. When the last of his come spilled into my mouth, I held it there for a second, savoring it, then swallowed while looking into his eyes. Afterward, I licked the tip clean.

—Fuck, honey —he whispered, spent.

Afterward we fell asleep in each other's arms, me still tasting his come in my mouth and carrying a new sensation I didn't know how to name.

***

Nothing interesting happened for several days. I checked my phone out of habit, but I wasn't looking for Damián; I had simply liked him, that was all, and I mentioned it to Rodrigo. Big mistake. He encouraged me to write to him again.

—You're friends —he argued—. You can forget what happened, pretend it never happened, and keep going out to eat. Just as friends.

I knew that “just as friends” meant something else to him. And even so, I gave in. I wrote to Damián, and he replied with his usual friendliness. We spent days messaging each other on WhatsApp whenever we had a free moment, until he suggested meeting over the weekend. I told him I had to discuss it with my husband, something Rodrigo accepted without hesitation and with that same smile.

I had already chosen my outfit for going out, but he wasn't convinced.

—How about something that shows a little more? —he said, trying to disguise his enthusiasm.

—This is perfect for going out to eat —I replied, because I knew exactly where he was going with it.

—But, honey, didn't you tell me you liked being the center of attention? This is a good opportunity. And nothing else has to happen if you don't want it to.

“If you don't want it to.” I thought about it for a moment. Naively, I believed I could handle things my way. Damián seemed like a man of his word.

—All right. What do you suggest I wear?

He searched through the drawers and took out a black pleated skirt with white lines and a dark plaid blouse with mid-length sleeves. I tried them on, expecting them not to match, but they looked surprisingly good on me.

—You look gorgeous —he said—. Can I ask you a favor?

—What?

—Don't wear a bra. I promise you'll have a better time.

I couldn't believe what he was asking me. Still, part of me was curious about the reactions it would provoke. I told him I wouldn't leave the house like that, but I could go into a public restroom before I arrived and take it off there. He agreed enthusiastically.

***

I arrived at the mall earlier than we'd agreed, already a little nervous. The restroom was practically empty. In front of the mirror, I took off my bra and put it in my purse, adjusted my blouse, and was fascinated by the freedom of the sensation. Then I went one step further: I lowered my neckline to the very edge of what was acceptable. I felt daring, desirable, the owner of something powerful. I left.

I stopped at a store first to buy some water, because summer always made me thirsty. There wasn't a single man who didn't stare at my cleavage, and I loved it. When I leaned over the refrigerator, I felt my breasts moving freely beneath the fabric; one man watched me without saying a word. At the register, the cashier tried to make conversation, but there were too many people and he just charged me.

I sat on a bench to wait for Damián. No one approached me, but I didn't care: the furtive looks, and especially the blatant ones, the ones that didn't bother to hide, made me feel victorious.

Damián arrived on time.

—You look beautiful. That skirt looks incredible on you —he said with the serenity that characterized him.

I smiled at him gratefully. We went to a restaurant, and the conversation flowed easily, like friends, until little by little it took on a different tone. He asked me about my husband, about his reaction. I told him Rodrigo had loved everything, and that he had even chosen my outfit for that day.

—Seriously? Your husband chose how you would come dressed? —he asked, amused.

—Of course. He has some very interesting ideas.

—He doesn't just have interesting ideas. He also has a very interesting wife.

I laughed at the flirtation, and something inside me began to awaken.

—And you? Do you have any interesting ideas? —I asked.

—There's a thought that's been circling in my mind since we arrived. But to show it to you, you'd have to move closer. I'd love to touch your legs. I think they're very beautiful.

I didn't hesitate. I picked up my chair, moved closer, and his hand settled on my leg almost immediately, caressing me slowly. The adrenaline of being in full view of everyone aroused me more than I'd expected. His hand crept upward centimeter by centimeter beneath my skirt, his fingers brushing the inner skin of my thigh. By the time he reached the edge of my panties, they were already wet. He noticed.

—You're soaking wet —he whispered against my ear.

He pushed the fabric aside and ran two fingers over my pussy lips, from bottom to top, finding my clitoris and rubbing it slowly. I gripped the tablecloth with both hands, pretending nothing was happening, staring fixedly at the table next to us for fear that someone might notice. He inserted one finger, then two, and began pumping them calmly beneath the tablecloth while his thumb kept working my clitoris. Before I knew it, my skirt was almost completely raised and he had me on the verge.

—Wait, someone might see us —I whispered, my voice trembling.

He pulled his glistening fingers out of me, brought them to his mouth, and sucked them without taking his eyes off me. Then he straightened my skirt.

—I got carried away. But you weren't saying anything either —he smiled—. What if we go somewhere more private and see what happens? Look what you've done to me.

With his eyes, he invited me to look down at his crotch. The bulge showed shamelessly through his pants, long, thick, impossible to conceal. I made sure no one was paying attention and, emboldened, reached over and squeezed him through the fabric, feeling him pulse against my palm. I told him we should leave, and we hurried out without arousing suspicion, me squeezing my legs together so I wouldn't leave a wet mark on the chair.

***

I couldn't wait in the car. While he drove toward the hotel, I touched his legs, slipped my hand beneath my skirt, and touched myself, so wet that my fingers slid in on their own. I undid his belt, lowered his zipper, and pulled out his cock. It was burning hot, hard as iron, as thick as I'd imagined beneath his pants. I arranged myself as best I could, keeping my ass against the seat and my face over his lap, and lowered my head to take him into my mouth. I kissed it first, licked the tip, and gathered the thick drop that had formed there with my tongue. Then I swallowed him whole, until I felt him strike the back of my throat, choking myself a little on purpose, spitting saliva onto the shaft so it would slide more easily. I moved up and down with my mouth open, sucking hard on the way out and squeezing the base with my hand. I felt his hand on the back of my head, pushing me, and a restrained moan escaping between his teeth. When I sat up, a strand of saliva still connected us, and his cock was glistening all the way to the balls.

—I can't take it anymore. Where are we? —I asked, sitting up, my mouth still full of his taste.

I looked around. We were practically in the middle of the road, surrounded by vegetation, with not a single house nearby and only the occasional car passing.

—Pull over. I can't take it anymore. I want your cock now —I said, in the way I spoke when I was extremely turned on, a side of me he still didn't know. It surprised him, but he didn't object.

—As soon as I find a place, I'll pull over.

It didn't take long. He found a shady tree and some bushes that concealed us almost completely from the road. He turned off the engine, walked around the car, and opened my door. Before he could say anything, I knelt on the seat and took him into my mouth again, this time more slowly, savoring him, feeling every vein beneath my tongue. I sucked his balls, taking them into my mouth one at a time while masturbating his cock with a hand full of spit, then moved back up to swallow him down to my throat. His hands guided my rhythm, pulling my hair and signaling when to go deeper. Then he pulled me out of the car, turned me around, and bent me over the hood. He tore off my panties beneath my skirt and slipped them into his pocket. He hiked my skirt up to my waist, leaving my ass bare.

I felt him settle behind me, felt him run the tip of his cock over my pussy lips from top to bottom, coating himself with my juices. He spread me open with his fingers and shoved it all the way in with one thrust. I screamed against the hot metal of the hood.

—I love how determined you were to come here like this —he said, delivering a sharp smack to my ass that drew another moan from me.

He began fucking me hard, without mercy, gripping my waist with both hands and driving himself to the balls with every thrust. The car shook. I could see cars passing in the distance and couldn't stop moaning. I felt him yank my blouse down and leave my tits bare, hanging over the hood and moving with the rhythm of his thrusts. He grabbed my nipples from behind and twisted them while continuing to bury his cock inside me.

—Let them see —he murmured against my ear—. Let them see how I fuck you, slut.

Damián's attitude had changed completely, and far from frightening me, his words turned me on. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, arching me. He changed my position: he lifted one of my legs and rested it on the hood, opening me wider, then entered me again from an angle that let him reach a place inside me no one had ever reached before. I felt his cock pounding me there, again and again, while with his free hand he searched for my clitoris and rubbed it in quick circles.

—Come for me. Come on my cock —he ordered.

He brought a wet thumb to my ass and buried it to the knuckle while continuing to pound me. It was too much. Everything was so vulgar and so intense that I felt the orgasm arrive without warning, overwhelming me and tearing a scream from me that echoed against the trees. My pussy closed around his cock in spasms, squeezing and milking him. My whole body trembled, my legs stopped responding, and he kept going, holding me by the waist and fucking me while I shook, until I ended up sprawled over the warm metal of the car, drooling, my tits crushed against the hood.

When I felt him speed up, when I noticed his cock swelling even more inside me, I pulled away abruptly, turned around, and knelt on the dirt in front of him. I gathered my hair with one hand, opened my mouth, and stuck out my tongue. He gripped his cock, glistening with my juices, and masturbated himself two or three times in front of my face.

—Open wide —he gasped.

The first jet landed on my tongue, hot and thick. The second painted my lips and cheek. I caught the third directly in my mouth, closing my lips around the glans and sucking to draw out every last drop. I swallowed while looking into his eyes. Then, still breathless, I cleaned the tip with my tongue, gathered what had landed on my face with two fingers, and brought it to my mouth, leaving no trace.

***

We straightened our clothes amid laughter. I jokingly scolded him for ruining my makeup and keeping my panties, while he, back in his kind, serene personality, apologized with a smile and promised to return them next time. He dropped me off at home at dusk, my pussy still throbbing and the taste of his come in my mouth.

I went inside knowing Rodrigo would greet me with the same question as always, with that patient smile ready to hear everything. And for the first time I understood that this was no longer a secret I carried alone, but a game we had both decided to play. How far it would go, I still didn't know. But that afternoon, in front of the bathroom mirror, I had already discovered that I liked the journey far too much.