I Changed My Costume to Seduce My Wife That Night

Carolina and I had that habit some couples have of playing with fire without ever bringing a hand close to the flame. In bed, in whispers, we fantasized about sleeping with other people. We invented scenes, imagined strangers coming into the room, and all of it turned us on enormously. But it was theater, words to excite us. Neither of us ever seriously thought about actually doing it.

At the time, my company held a huge costume party every year. It was common knowledge that there was plenty of fucking at those parties, though it had never worried or tempted us much. We went as a couple, had fun with other equally easygoing couples, and let the rest do whatever they wanted. The only strict rule was anonymity: full costume and a full mask, so recognizing anyone was almost impossible. That, of course, made it easy for people to end up tangled up with someone without even knowing who it was.

Marcos, a coworker and lifelong friend, had fallen into that trap the year before. He fucked a stranger and ever since he’d been driving me crazy with the mystery.

—What if it was Valeria? —he’d say, referring to a stunning executive from upstairs—. Or worse, what if it was Daniela? Just thinking about it gets me hard.

Valeria and Daniela were the obvious two candidates: single, uninhibited, both gorgeous. Daniela, moreover, had become very close with Carolina, and therefore a friend of mine too. The funny thing was that a lot of people confused her and my wife with sisters. They were almost identical in body; in the face, a little less so.

One night, talking about the upcoming party, we took the opportunity to heat ourselves up with the idea.

—Since no one knows who we are —Carolina murmured—, you could take advantage and fuck an anonymous coworker. Or one of someone’s girlfriends.

—Are you saying that for me, or because you want to? —I replied—. Have you got your eye on one of my coworkers?

—No matter how much of an eye I keep on them, how am I supposed to know who’s who under a mask?

—You’d have to go by instinct. Maybe you’d feel it here. —I slid my hand over her clothes, between her legs.

—Mmm, how horny. And where else?

—Probably here. —I slipped my hand into her neckline, under her bra, and stroked her nipple with my thumb.

—You’re such a bastard. And yours will be hard, for sure. Maybe you’d be tempted by Valeria, who’s absolutely smoking.

—Valeria is very hot, but you are too, and you drive me crazy. —We ended that conversation fucking against the mattress, with no more words.

***

Afterwards, though, I picked up the thread again. I did it to reassure myself, hoping she’d deny any real interest.

—The truth is, you wouldn’t dare —I said, pretending disdain.

—Wouldn’t dare what?

—Fuck someone anonymous at the party.

—You’re telling me that so I’ll say no, when you’re the one dying for it. The thief thinks everyone is like him. —She had partly caught me out. The first part was true; the second wasn’t. I had no interest in sleeping with anyone other than Carolina, but jealousy kept me from admitting it in the face of the suspicion that maybe she did want to—. Besides, it’s easy. Since we’ll know what costume each person is wearing, all we have to do is avoid each other. I’ll go as Pierrot. You find anyone who isn’t a Pierrot. What are you going to dress up as?

—I still don’t know. You’ll see me.

We went out to buy the costumes separately. I chose a sinister clown outfit, with a matching mask, and before paying for it I checked something: through the translucent eyeholes I could see perfectly, but from the outside no one could see my gaze. Carolina bought the Pierrot costume, just as she’d said.

—Damn, you can see my eyes —she complained in front of the mirror—. I’m going to fix that. —She found a material that looked white from the outside but was see-through from the inside, and stuck it over the openings in her mask.

I had chosen mine precisely because it hid the eyes, because I had a twisted plan worthy of the costume. That same week I spoke to Marcos.

—The idea is that we swap costumes —I explained—. Since Carolina won’t know how you’re dressed, maybe you can fuck her without either of you knowing, because she’ll think you’re me. That is, only if she comes looking for you. Change your voice a bit, whatever you do. You don’t have to go after her, but if it happens…

Marcos agreed, whether because he wanted to fuck Carolina or because he wanted to do me the favor. But that wasn’t my real plan. Mine was more elaborate: I would wear Marcos’s costume and go looking for my own wife to seduce her as an anonymous stranger. If she agreed to sleep with me thinking I was someone else, I’d have caught her fucking her husband without knowing it, and at the same time I’d make sure she didn’t end up in anyone else’s arms. Someday I’d tell her and we’d laugh about it together.

The plan wasn’t bad. It worked, apparently. Only years later did I learn it had turned out the other way around.

***

Because it turns out Carolina, like me, had agreed to the swap only in words. And, to my misfortune, she came up with exactly the same scheme I did. She exchanged her Pierrot costume with Daniela’s, with the same intention: to find me and catch me fucking her. The difference is that she discovered her plan had failed long before I did.

As soon as I swapped costumes with Marcos, I set off to look for the Pierrot among the crowd of masks. It took me a while, but I found her by a table, pouring a kind of sangria into a glass. I got in line right behind her and started being friendly. I flirted shamelessly, changing my voice; the mask helped distort it. We talked, we drank, we repeated it several times, and I tried to get her a little tipsy so I could take her away. Then I took her out to dance.

I pulled her close and she let me. We danced pressed together, talking about a thousand things. And while we danced, a ridiculous mix of arousal and jealousy grew inside me, because it was turning out far too easy. That meant my wife was more than willing to give herself to a stranger. I didn’t stop. At one point I lifted my hand from her waist and, when I put it back, I slid it straight over her ass, knowing that was one of her weak spots.

She looked at me. Now, as I write this, I avoid saying Carolina, because today I know that woman was Daniela and not my wife. I suppose she smiled, though the mask hid it from me, and she accepted my hand without moving it away. I checked just how ready she was to sleep with a stranger and, with a bit of anger, I pressed my hips against hers. It worked. She was hot.

—You can count yourself kissed —I whispered in her ear—. The mask won’t let me, but I’d love to.

—Ha, I would’ve loved that too.

—Shall we look for a room?

The party was in an entire hotel at our disposal, with the doors open.

—I’d love to fuck my anonymous partner —she replied, and a fresh stab of jealousy went through me at how easy it was for her.

We took each other by the shoulder and waist and made our way down the hall looking for an empty room. Many doors were closed; others, open, revealed couples entangled inside. In one of them I recognized my own sinister clown costume: Marcos was fucking a Cinderella standing up, lifting her dress and taking off her panties, a beautiful ass outlined in the dim light. They seemed to be having a good time, and I was happy for him. The woman I thought was Carolina looked at them for a moment, and years later I understood that she recognized something in that scene. We closed the door to leave them alone and kept going until the next room, which was empty.

***

We went in and undressed in the dark, at her request. From the neighboring room came Marcos and his partner’s cries, and I couldn’t help smiling.

—Do you mind if we turn everything off? —she whispered—. That way we can take off our masks and kiss without recognizing each other. But without the mask our voices show more, so better not talk.

It seemed like a great idea to me. We took off our masks in total darkness and threw ourselves on each other. I fucked with a roughness that isn’t mine, on purpose, so “Carolina” wouldn’t recognize me by my manner. I kissed her with my mouth open, laid her back on the edge of the bed, and entered her slowly, listening to her broken breathing against my neck.

Then, with plenty of saliva, I turned her face down and buried myself in her ass. I was sure she’d stop me, because my wife had never liked that, and I counted on it to reinforce my disguise as a stranger. But to my surprise and my renewed jealousy, not only did she not refuse me: she arched her back and pushed back, looking for me. The moans were different, everything felt a little strange, but I attributed it to the fact that we were fucking in a different way, her believing I was a stranger.

When we finished, we rested a while, enjoying each other’s naked body in the half-dark. It was getting late. I had arranged to meet Marcos at quarter to three to swap back our costumes, and my companion also seemed in a hurry. We dressed by feel, put our masks back on, and left separately.

I found Marcos where we’d agreed and got my clothes back.

—How was your Cinderella? —I asked.

—I’ll tell you tomorrow in detail. She was smoking hot and fucked like an angel. Only thing was, she wouldn’t even let me get a finger near her ass, but otherwise, spectacular. One of the best fucks of my life, I swear. She fucked like she knew me from a lifetime ago.

—I’m glad. Thanks for the swap.

—You weren’t doing badly either. I recognized you when you opened the door.

—No complaints —I said, not wanting to go into details about what I thought had been my intimacy with Carolina.

As I went back to look for my wife, I noticed the clown costume smelled intensely of sex. It seemed the most natural thing in the world; Marcos’s would smell the same.

***

When I met up with Carolina again, I found her evasive.

—How was it? —I asked.

—Good.

—Did you like fucking a stranger?

—Look, I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind. I think it’s better for us. —I respected her silence, convinced she was jealous and a little regretful about having slept with another man, not knowing, as I believed then, that that other man had been me.

Quite a lot of time passed before one day I decided to confess my trick to her.

—Do you remember the party where we fucked other people? —I began, smiling—. I don’t know if it puts me in a very good light, but I did it out of love: I didn’t do it with another woman. I swapped costumes with Marcos and flirted with you. The stranger was me. By the way, you didn’t mind at all that I fucked you from behind.

Carolina went very still for a second. Then she burst out laughing in a strange way.

—Do you remember the party? Well yes, we did fuck other people. Specifically, I fucked Marcos. I’ve just understood it now that you told me who you swapped costumes with. And you fucked Daniela. It turns out I came up with the same thing you did: I swapped my Pierrot costume with hers to catch you. So when you looked for me, you found Daniela dressed as Pierrot, and when I looked for you, I found Marcos in your clown costume. Thinking it was you… I’m sorry… I fucked him.

I was left breathless. She went on, looking at the floor.

—I knew it wasn’t you when there was no turning back anymore. After so much foreplay, as soon as he penetrated me I noticed he was thicker and shorter than you. I didn’t have the nerve to pull away. I faked an orgasm and made him cum fast. Men are very easy. Only now, with you telling me, have I understood the double move. That’s why I never wanted to talk about it. I wasn’t having a bad time… until I discovered it wasn’t you.

—Ha, ha, ha. Sorry for laughing —I said, deciding to take it well—. I tried to do it differently and I fucked you in the ass precisely thinking you wouldn’t let me, to seem like someone else. And you did. Well, not you: Daniela. But I thought it was you, and I got insanely jealous that with a stranger it was yes and with me it was no.

—I know, Daniela told me, though she doesn’t know it was you. I didn’t even know it myself. She says her lover, that is, you, was amazing.

—Well, Marcos told me wonderful things about his Cinderella. One of the best fucks of his life, he said. He compared you to the angels.

There was a long pause, and then we both burst into a laugh that never seemed to end. We laughed until tears came to our eyes, and from laughter we moved to kisses, and from kisses to bed, where we fucked like mad, as if we needed to erase that night and rewrite it.

—If you go very carefully —she whispered later, still breathless—, I’ll let you come in from behind. But if it really hurts, we’ll stop. We’ll see whether we repeat it… even if I like it.