I Booked the Liberal Hotel and My Wife Didn’t Say No

Summer in our city is a punishment. The air conditioner at home had died in mid-June and the house had turned into an oven where sleeping was almost impossible. Luckily, the kids would be spending their vacation with their aunt, who has a huge house and a pool, so for the first time in years Lucía and I were going to be alone.

I’m Marcos. I have an office job that eats me alive, I’m tidy to a fault, and I hate surprises. Lucía is exactly the opposite: she decides on the fly, laughs loudly, and says that thinking too much makes life boring. She’s right most of the time, and that’s why we’ve lasted as long as we have.

There was one day left before vacation started and we had nothing planned. That morning, while I was getting dressed, she came into the room wearing an old T-shirt and nothing underneath.

—Have you decided what we’re going to do these days? —she asked, leaning against the doorframe.

—I was thinking the beach —I said—. Something quiet.

—I hope you’re not thinking of going alone for the day —she replied, in a tone I knew well.

—No, not at all. I was thinking of the Caribbean, if you like.

She jumped. Literally jumped, and threw herself around my neck like a teenager.

—I need a new swimsuit —she said against my ear.

It was that line that lit up my mind. I pictured her in a tiny bikini, with nothing on top, surrounded by strangers staring without bothering to hide it. I felt jealousy and arousal at the same time, an uncomfortable and delicious mix that went straight to my crotch. I shook my head to get it out of there; it was getting late, and being late doesn’t fit into my world.

Before I left, she brushed me over my pants with two fingers, slowly, measuring the effect.

—That’s how I like it —she said when she saw my reaction—. But now get dressed, because you’re going to be late.

And she left, leaving me hard and in a bad mood, which is exactly how she likes to leave me.

***

At the office I finished everything ahead of time and started looking for somewhere to go. Riviera Maya was the obvious choice: five-star hotels, all inclusive, postcard beaches. I picked two similar options so Lucía could choose. But while I was comparing the second one, a different ad appeared. Adults-only hotel.

The phrase clicked in my brain before I clicked with the mouse. It wasn’t what I thought: it meant liberal adults. Couples who went to look, to share, to try things. I searched the official website and started reading the rules with more attention than I ever gave work reports. I was so focused that I didn’t hear the footsteps behind me.

—Is that the hotel you’re taking me to? —Lucía said, peeking at the screen over my shoulder.

—Uh… yes… I mean no! —I blurted out, nervous as a kid caught red-handed.

—What are you looking at? —She had already noticed my face.

—A silly thing —I replied, regaining my composure—. It’s a hotel for liberal couples, I think. But I have two normal options for you to choose from.

—Swinging couples? —She laughed, not scandalized at all.

—I was only looking out of curiosity.

—Sure. As if I didn’t know you.

—Come on, would you really be up for going to a place like that with me? —I asked, half irritated, half hopeful.

—You hadn’t said that over there nobody knows us… —she let the sentence hang.

—Are you serious?

—No —she laughed—. You know I wouldn’t dare do those things.

—You wouldn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to —I insisted—. The website says no means no, that everyone respects that. We could walk around naked and that would be it.

—And let people feast their eyes on this body that’s only yours? —she said, stroking my hair.

—They’d look at you —I replied, moving closer and taking her by the waist—. And they’d look at this ass you’ve got.

—Does it turn you on to have people look at me?

—I don’t know. Maybe.

—And what if they don’t settle for looking?

—If it were a woman, maybe I’d let her. Maybe I’d join in.

—And if it were a man? —Her voice had gone down a notch.

—Would you like that?

—I don’t know —she said, biting her lip—. I’d have to try it.

***

No more was needed. I kissed her, imagining that situation we had never lived outside my head, and she answered me while I wrestled with my belt. I kissed her neck and kneaded her ass slowly, the way I know drives her crazy. Her nipples were already pressing against the fabric of her blouse.

When she finally freed my cock, she took it into her mouth whole, with no preamble. She was struggling to breathe from pure excitement. I had proposed something with another man, she had gotten turned on, and I had gotten turned on imagining it. My head couldn’t keep up, so I switched it off and let myself go.

—Do you like the way I do it —she said, letting me go for a second— or would you rather try another mouth?

—Both. But you’re the best. And you? Would you try another?

—Anything different is always tempting —she answered, standing up—. Now shut up, it’s your turn.

She lay down on the sofa and opened her legs. I made her wait, kissing the insides of her thighs, moving up slowly so she’d go crazy with impatience.

—Don’t be mean —she gasped—. Do it, or I’ll tell someone else to do it.

It was our usual game, that fiction that got both of us hot. I ran my tongue over her clit in short licks while I slid two fingers inside her. She was dripping wet. I worked right where I know she can’t take it, on the most sensitive tip, and in a couple of minutes she started moaning loudly and came, trembling against my mouth.

I barely gave her a break. She pushed me onto the sofa, climbed on top of me, and lowered herself onto me, riding fast from the very start.

—Do you like the way I do it —she asked without stopping— or would you rather fuck someone else?

—Right now I’m enjoying yours. But if you let me, I’d try another.

She kissed me, pushing her tongue all the way into my mouth, passionate, until I couldn’t take it anymore and came, squeezing her against my chest. She stayed on my shoulder for a few minutes, both of us silent, catching our breath. Then she got up, gathered her clothes, and, with her back to me, said:

—Buy the tickets and the hotel. I’m going to shower.

—But which hotel am I booking?

—You decide.

And she disappeared down the hallway, swaying her naked ass, leaving me with my heart in my throat and the decision in my hands.

***

I thought it over with a cool head, which for once wasn’t the one below. We had played with the idea a hundred times, but this could be real, and what’s real is scary. In the end I booked the liberal hotel. I didn’t tell her which one I’d chosen. I figured we’d find out when we got there, and that if she changed her mind, we could always stay in the room staring at the ceiling.

The flight and the next three days were a silent game of hints. Lucía suspected, I didn’t confirm. When the taxi crossed the resort entrance and she saw the discreet sign, the rules posted up, the couples in the pool with no inhibitions, she turned to me with a smile I had never seen before.

—You’re shameless —she said—. You booked it.

—We still have time to do nothing —I answered.

—We’ll see.

The first night we had dinner on the terrace, beside the lit-up pool. At the next table there was a couple, Diego and Renata, a bit older than us, the kind of people who move like the place is their house. We started talking about nonsense —the trip, the heat, how nice it was— and the conversation slowly became something else without either of us pushing it. Renata had a way of looking at Lucía that left no doubt, and my wife, far from feeling uncomfortable, held her gaze.

—Is this your first time in a place like this? —Diego asked, without any malice.

—Is it that obvious? —Lucía said, and laughed, and the table laughed with her, and suddenly the tension turned light.

The four of us went up to their suite for the last drink. I walked behind them, watching Lucía walk, waiting for the signal she had promised me at home: that no means no. No no came. What came was her hand reaching for mine in the elevator and squeezing it hard.

Inside, things came apart slowly. Renata sat next to Lucía on the edge of the bed and brushed a lock of hair away from her face, the same way I do when she’s about to kiss me. Lucía let her. When they kissed, it was my wife who took the lead, and I felt that exact jolt of jealousy and desire I had imagined so many times, only this time it was real and better than I had imagined.

—Relax —Diego told me, pouring me a drink—. Look at what’s right in front of you.

What was right in front of me was Lucía letting another woman undress her, eyes half-closed, looking for me between kisses to make sure I was still there. I moved closer, sat behind her, and kissed the back of her neck while Renata kissed her breasts. Lucía moaned, trapped between the two of us, and that sound told me everything I needed to know.

What happened next had none of the order I like. There were hands I didn’t know belonged to whom, mouths taking turns, laughter when something went awkwardly. At some point Lucía was on top of me, looking me in the eyes, while Renata dragged her tongue down her back, and I understood that I wasn’t sharing her: I was seeing her more whole than ever, without the filter of shame, wanting and letting herself be wanted without asking permission.

When it was all over and we went back to our room, already past midnight, we got into bed without turning on the light. I waited for her to say something, to regret it, to blame me.

—Are you okay? —I asked at last.

—Better than okay —she said, curling up against me—. And you? Didn’t it bother you?

—I thought I was going to die of jealousy. And I kind of did. But I don’t want it to end here.

She laughed softly in the dark, that laugh of hers that decides things for both of us.

—There are four nights left —she said—. And tomorrow I get to choose.