I Fulfilled My Forbidden Fantasy with Two Men

There are desires you keep for so long they end up seeming impossible. Mine was simple to name and hard to confess: I wanted to feel two men at the same time. I never told Hernán, my husband, even though we had been together for fourteen years and I thought I knew everything about him. That early morning, in a house that wasn’t ours, I stopped imagining it.

We had arrived at Lucía and Mateo’s place close to midnight. An office friend had introduced us, with that half smile of someone who knows more than they’re saying. A dinner, a couple of bottles, conversations that grew hotter with every glass. I watched Hernán laughing with Lucía and noticed how the air in the living room grew thick, charged with something none of the four of us dared to name yet.

Lucía had a way of looking at you that undid you. Every time I said something, she leaned slightly forward, as if my words mattered more than they did, and her knee ended up brushing mine under the table without either of us pulling our leg away. Mateo, across from me, filled the glasses before they had even emptied. It was a silent choreography, and the four of us knew where it was leading.

—How long have you been married? —Lucía asked, playing with the rim of her glass.

—Fourteen years —I replied.

—And you still look at each other like that —she said, and I didn’t know whether she meant us or the way Mateo was looking at me.

The clock on the wall showed well past midnight when the conversation ran out of words. There was a long silence, one of those heavy silences, in which we all understood the same thing at the same time.

—Do you want to come upstairs? —Lucía finally asked, standing up with the glass still in her hand.

Nobody answered with words. We went upstairs.

***

The main bedroom was spacious, with a huge bed and a floor lamp that left everything in dim light. At first we were clumsy, like teenagers who don’t know where to put their hands. There were nervous laughs, glances asking permission, hands that hesitated before settling. Then the embarrassment fell away on its own, piece by piece.

Mateo kissed me first. He did it slowly, holding the back of my neck, while on the other side of the bed Hernán and Lucía began their own game. It was strange and exciting in equal measure to hear my husband breathing hard for another woman a meter from me, and at the same time feel new hands running down my back. I closed my eyes and let myself be carried by the novelty of not knowing what would come next.

What came next left me breathless. Hernán and Mateo had positioned themselves behind Lucía, taking turns, and she lived it with such intensity that just watching her made me clench my thighs. That’s me in my head for years, I thought. The fantasy was right there, a meter from me, happening to another woman.

Suddenly Hernán went very still, his jaw tense, and a second later he emptied himself inside her with a hoarse groan that rose from deep in his chest. They stayed motionless for a few moments, catching their breath. Then my husband pulled away, took Lucía’s hand, and the two of them went toward the bathroom without saying a word, still dazed.

I was left alone with Mateo.

He kissed me slowly, without the urgency from before, as if we had the whole night. And we did. I checked that he hadn’t come, that he was still as hard as at the beginning, and I leaned over him. I did it with a calm I didn’t recognize in myself, savoring every reaction of his, every time the air escaped between his teeth.

—Not so fast —he murmured, holding my face with both hands—. I’d like to enjoy you for a good while.

He laid me on my back, positioned himself underneath, and left the control to me. I sat on top of him and it was I who set the pace, who decided every movement. For the first time in years I wasn’t pleasing anyone: I was taking what I wanted. Mateo looked up at me with a mix of desire and surprise, as if he hadn’t expected that decision from me.

***

When Hernán and Lucía came back from the bathroom, something in the atmosphere had changed again. My husband knelt on the bed in front of me and, while I was still riding Mateo, offered me his sex to my mouth. I accepted without thinking. Lucía settled behind me, and I felt her wet finger drawing circles in a place no one had ever ventured before.

Then I understood. I was one step away from my fantasy, from the only one I had never told. I didn’t say anything. But Hernán, who knew me better than I believed, sensed it in the way I breathed, in the way my back tensed beneath Lucía’s hand.

He positioned himself behind me.

I felt the tip of his cock at a new opening and went completely still. Slowly, I prayed in silence. And he went slowly, millimeter by millimeter, giving me time to open, to breathe, to want more. When he was finally inside, my fantasy stopped being a fantasy.

Two men at once. When one came out, the other went in. I had the impression that they were brushing against each other inside me, separated by barely a wall of flesh, and that idea drove me wild. Feeling both of them breathing, hearing how their gasps fell into the same rhythm, dragged me to a place I didn’t want to come back from.

I lost track of time. I didn’t know where one ended and the other began, and I didn’t care. Lucía swept my hair out of my face and whispered that I should let go, not think, and for once in my life I did what I was told. I stopped controlling, stopped measuring, stopped worrying about how I looked. There was only sensation, heat, and the weight of two bodies moving with me.

I joined them with my own moans, deeper and deeper. I asked them to let go, to come together, to give me what I had spent years imagining in the dark.

—You made me feel pleasure like nobody ever has —Mateo said afterward, his voice broken.

The four of us stayed tangled together, sweaty, with no strength left to move.

***

Mateo and I went to one shower; Lucía accompanied my husband to the other. Under the hot water, Mateo soaped me up all over, front and back, with an attention that unraveled me. Hernán had never done anything like that in fourteen years. I returned the gesture, running my hands over him covered in foam, and I was surprised by how natural it felt. I had lost my embarrassment too quickly and I still couldn’t believe it.

As the water ran, I caught myself thinking about how far away that woman was from the one who dressed in a hurry every morning to take the kids to school. That other me would not have recognized the woman now laughing under the shower with a stranger. And yet they were the same. Maybe they always had been.

We dried ourselves and went back to the bedroom.

—Let’s get dressed and go —I said, more out of habit than desire.

—It’s three in the morning —Lucía replied, stretching out on the bed—. Stay. Tomorrow we’ll have coffee and toast for breakfast and, if you want, you can leave.

We agreed. The four of us lay down in the same bed: me with my back to Mateo, Hernán with his back to Lucía, as if we were two different couples again. Sleep took me at once.

***

I woke with the first light and with Mateo pressed against my back, hard as stone. I turned toward him.

—Not there —I warned him, half asleep, before guiding him myself.

—I’ve got unfinished business with you —he said against my neck.

—So do I —I replied—. But another time.

While the house still slept, Mateo made a confession to me. Lucía and he were not beginners at this, as they had told us when we arrived. They told it that way, he said, to create more complicity, so the other couple would relax. The truth was that they loved being with marriages like ours, and that night had been, for him, the best one of all. He wanted to do it again.

—And if you felt like it —he added, testing the waters—, I’ve got a friend. We’ve known him for years. I’d love to set something up with him and you, and have Hernán watch us.

I laughed softly, surprised that I wasn’t scandalized.

—I’ll think about it —I said—. But first I’d have to get ready. Inside and out. And there’s something you should know: I’m fifteen years older than you.

—I figured as much —he answered without hesitation—. That’s no problem for me. Quite the opposite.

We fell silent, listening to the sounds of the house beginning to wake. I made no promises. But that night I learned something about myself I didn’t plan to forget: the woman I had imagined for years, the one who took what she wanted without asking permission, was not a fantasy. It was me. I had only been missing one early morning, someone else’s house, and the courage to say no to no one.

Two weeks later, we called Lucía and Mateo. But that is another story, and I’m still living it.