My First Threesome with the Back-Fence Neighbor

At last I found a place where I can tell this without feeling my face burn. It’s the story of my first threesome: a summer night, my boyfriend Mateo, and a man who was twice our age and whom we barely knew, apart from running into him in the courtyard. I was always more on the shy side, the kind who gets embarrassed, so I still have a hard time believing the one telling this story is me.

We lived in one of those complexes of tiny rental apartments, all the same, with a shared central courtyard. In the middle there was a long table and, overhead, a grapevine that cast a cool shadow in the afternoons. People came out as the sun went down, smoked a cigarette, talked. Since the tenants kept coming and going, quick friendships formed there and conversations that stretched late into the night.

That January afternoon we bought a couple of beers. Mateo hardly drank, one now and then, but it was hot and we sat down at the long table around seven. I was wearing a thin little dress, yellow with flowers, one of those that cling to the body in the breeze, and very little underwear underneath. I’m petite, I’m five foot one, and Mateo is tall, broad-shouldered; when we walked together down the street people looked at us, I suppose imagining things.

Before long a couple joined us with more beer and a drink. And then he appeared. He came back from work, left his dirty clothes in the shared laundry room, and went in to shower. He came out to smoke alone on a bench off to the side, and when we felt sorry to see him isolated there, we invited him over to the table.

“Come sit with us, man, don’t stay over there alone,” Mateo told him.

His name was Ricardo. He was in his late forties, tall, with huge hands, and a deep voice that put you at ease. He told us he traveled for his company, that he was in charge of a high-voltage tower project out on the outskirts. He was polite in a way that felt almost old-fashioned, the kind of man who still uses usted. The conversation went on, more rounds were added, and when we had become an annoyance in the courtyard we moved to his apartment, the largest in the complex: it had a dining room with chairs and a huge L-shaped sofa.

The other couple left early. We stayed a while longer, drinking beer with soda, chatting. And every time I got up to look for the lighter or the ashtray, I noticed how Ricardo followed me with his eyes, how his gaze kept drifting to the dress clinging to my body. Mateo noticed too. He’d always been into that sort of thing.

“If you ever wanted to be with someone else, I’d give you permission,” he had told me more than once. “It wouldn’t be fair for you not to, after everything I lived through before I met you.”

I was twenty-five and, before him, I’d only had a couple of short relationships. Mateo was different: we were already practically living together. That night, when we said goodbye to Ricardo, he was flirty, attentive, but we went back to our apartment without anything happening. Or so I thought.

***

As soon as we closed the door, we were both on fire. We kissed against the wall, hands everywhere. Mateo lifted my dress and yanked my underwear down in one pull. He squeezed my ass, reached for me from behind with his fingers, and found that I was already soaked.

“Did Don Ricardo’s stare get you this wet?” he murmured against my neck.

I didn’t answer. He took me to the bed and knelt on the floor. I lay back and he spread my legs, running his tongue slowly over me, over and over, from bottom to top, until I arched my back.

“So? What did you think of the neighbor?” he insisted between licks. “Would you be into something with him?”

“Don’t say that,” I told him, half laughing, half trembling. “He’s so much older. And so proper he intimidates me. I’d never dare.”

But I was so hot I didn’t want to finish yet. I made him get up, pushed him back, and pulled his pants down. When I took him in my mouth, he came back at me.

“Can you picture him like this? Would you feel comfortable?”

“With how gallant he is…” I admitted, surprised by my own voice. “Yes, I think I would.”

What happened next still feels like a dream. Mateo pulled up his pants, took my hand, and simply said:

“Come on.”

I followed him, baffled, barefoot, without underwear, through the dim courtyard. We reached Ricardo’s door. Mateo knocked. The man opened it in pajama pants, sleepy-faced but still as kind as ever.

“Hello, Don Ricardo. Sorry for the hour. We came to make you a proposal.”

“Of course, come in, tell me. How can I help you?”

“What happens is,” Mateo said, without beating around the bush, “my girlfriend loves the way you are. She finds you very attractive. We’d like the three of us to have a good time together. If it happens, great. And if not, we’re still friends as always.”

Ricardo looked at us, not understanding, or pretending not to understand.

“Sorry, what exactly are you trying to tell me?”

“That she’d like to be with you. To have you see her, enjoy her. She’s shy and embarrassed to tell you, so I came for her.” And he looked at me. “Right?”

I nodded, eyes fixed on Ricardo’s, unable to speak.

“Really, or are you playing a joke on me?” he asked, still incredulous.

“If someone made me this offer, I’d think it was a joke too,” Mateo replied. “But it’s real. And to put you at ease, I’ll prove it to you.”

He took me by the nape and kissed me deeply, one of those kisses that make my knees weak. With his other hand he lifted my dress up my back, leaving my bare ass exposed. I kept kissing him with my eyes closed, and behind me I felt Ricardo’s gaze roaming over my whole body.

Then I heard him move. He knelt behind me. His two huge hands settled on my ass and, slowly, I felt his lips press just above it, an almost tender kiss. He was stroking me with a softness I hadn’t expected from someone so big, sliding his hands down the backs of my thighs to my knees and back up again.

“You’re exquisite, little one,” he said in that rough voice, almost a whisper. “I never thought I’d live something like this. Thank you.”

His hands moved around to the front without intruding, barely grazing my stomach, my waist, my breasts over the dress, while he kept kissing and nibbling my ass. And suddenly I felt his tongue, broad and hot, sweep over me from very low to higher up, slow, again and again. Mateo never stopped kissing my mouth. I thought I was going to burst from embarrassment, but the embarrassment kept dying down. So much that I ended up parting my legs a little more so he could get better access.

***

Mateo took me by the waist, lifted me, and laid me carefully on the bed. Ricardo lay down on one side, Mateo on the other. It was time to kiss him now. I was still shy about it—he was much older—but I was so turned on I stopped thinking about it. I kissed him, and he went for my breasts and ass with his hands while I, almost on instinct, lowered mine to touch him over his clothes.

He was hard, thick as hell. It wasn’t pointing upward; it was bulging to one side, on the verge of bursting out over the waistband of his pants. I stroked him up and down and, every time I touched him, I could feel him grow a little more. It scared me some, I won’t lie, but I trusted him, how careful he was. I turned to kiss Mateo too, because there was still a little bit of shyness left in me that only went away with him close by.

I ended up with my back to Ricardo, who kept caressing my hips, my legs, my waist. He was so tall that with one hand he could reach from my shoulder to below my knee; his arm covered almost all of me. I was relaxing against Mateo when I felt him part me gently and place the tip right at my entrance, as wet as I was.

He started to push slowly. The tip struggled to get in and I helped him with tiny movements backward, so it would open a way little by little. He held my hips and pushed and eased off, pushed and eased off, gaining a millimeter each time. I felt like I was going to explode; Mateo never let go of my mouth.

When he realized Ricardo was finally getting in, Mateo used his hand to spread one cheek of my ass to make the path easier. The tip was already inside and he kept moving forward, backing off a little and pressing again, a little deeper with each shove. I could feel him opening me, feel how wet I was, while Mateo kissed me and stroked me.

Ricardo was panting, getting more and more excited, gripping my hip bones to brace himself and give me longer, deeper thrusts. I couldn’t see his cock, but from how he filled me I knew it was huge; I had no idea how much was still left before he was all the way in. I just gave myself over. I wanted to come, but not too fast: I wanted to feel the exact moment his body slammed against mine and I’d know it was all inside.

Until it happened. I felt his pelvis hit my ass and then he began pulling out halfway and coming back in almost at once, firmer each time. He pulled out, he pushed in, he found a rhythm. Mateo rubbed my clit with his fingers and whispered in my ear how well I was doing.

I held back as much as I could, stretching out that strange mix of pain and pleasure. I had already stretched enough to enjoy it without thinking about how he went in or came out. I had completely lost the shyness I’d had when I crossed the courtyard. For the first time in my life I was between the two of them, surrendered, without a single shred of shame, enjoying every second of my first threesome.