My First Time with Three Men in a Stranger’s Home
I’m coming back to this corner wanting to tell you about another of the things I lived through with my husband during our married years. There are afternoons a woman locks away somewhere in memory, and every so often she takes them out to feel them again. This is one of them.
After that first threesome with one of his friends, Martín developed a taste for it. He started talking to me about meeting new people, about trying things, about opening a door we had only cracked open until then. We were a very sexually active couple, the kind who looked for each other at any hour, and the idea didn’t seem nearly as crazy as it should have. I laughed, told him he was nuts, and two days later I was already thinking about it more than I admitted.
One afternoon, over a café after lunch, I met Gabriel. He was a surgeon, one of those men with steady hands and a calm voice, the sort who are used to being listened to. We talked for hours: about trips, about music, about things I don’t remember and that, deep down, didn’t matter. What mattered was the way he looked at me when he thought I didn’t notice.
Before we said goodbye, we agreed to meet the next day at his apartment, for the three of us to have a few glasses of wine.
Just a few glasses of wine, I kept telling myself in the car on the way back. I didn’t even believe myself.
***
Gabriel’s apartment was on a high floor, with big windows and a golden light coming in from the side at that hour of the afternoon. The three of us sat in the living room, he poured a drink, and the conversation got started slowly, with that nervous politeness of people who know what they came for but still don’t dare name it yet.
Then the doorbell rang.
Gabriel got up as if he’d been expecting it and opened the door. It was another man, Esteban, who had come “to visit,” he said, with a smile that immediately made it clear to me that there was nothing accidental about it. Gabriel introduced him, he was served a drink, and the evening went on. I still didn’t know that between them they had arranged everything: Esteban knew perfectly well that we were going to be there. They had set it up to surprise me.
And surprise me they did.
Gabriel and Esteban started talking, casually, about their experiences swapping partners. They did it without sleaze, naturally, glancing at me out of the corner of their eyes to gauge my reaction. They talked about nights with other couples, about women they had met in similar circumstances, about what it felt like to look and be looked at. I listened with the glass in my hands, my cheeks hot, feeling the conversation grow heavier, more charged, until the air in the living room felt different.
Martín, sitting beside me, put a hand on my knee. He didn’t move it, didn’t do anything else, but that simple pressure was enough for me to understand where everything was headed and for my body to answer before my head did. I crossed my legs slowly, and I could feel the three of them noticing.
—Why don’t we get comfortable? —Gabriel said, and it wasn’t really a question.
I looked at Martín. He gave me that look I knew by heart, the one that said relax, I’m here. I nodded.
***
We moved into the bedroom. It was spacious, with a huge bed and the blinds half lowered, so strips of light came through the slats. I was genuinely nervous. One thing was having been with one of Martín’s friends, and something very different was this: three men, two of them almost strangers, and me in the middle.
Martín noticed. He came closer, cupped my face in both hands, and started kissing me slowly, exactly the way he knew I liked, barely biting my lip, taking his time. He knew every one of my triggers and touched them one by one. Within minutes I stopped thinking. Fear turned into something else, into a warm urgency sinking through my body and leaving me wet, open, wanting.
Gabriel and Esteban came in from the sides. I felt hands on my back, on my waist, a mouth on my neck. I let myself drop to my knees without thinking and took them all three in turn, moving from one to another, feeling them swell between my lips while they held my hair and whispered things in my ear. I don’t know how to describe the power you feel at that moment, having three men focused on one mouth.
Martín laid me on my back and got between my legs. He licked me slowly, with that patience only he had, while I kept tending to the other two with my hands and mouth. I was burning up. Every time his tongue hit the exact spot, my hips rose on their own and my fingers closed tighter around them.
—Turn around —Esteban asked, his voice hoarse.
I got on all fours, facing the door. One of them entered me from behind in a single thrust, deep, and I let out a moan I didn’t even recognize as mine. The other settled in front and I opened my mouth for him. And Martín, off to the side, didn’t join in: he masturbated while watching us, a smile on his face, lost in the scene. The strangest and most exciting thing of all was that—watching him come by just looking at me, seeing his eyes shine as he watched me enjoying those men.
I later learned that he had barely participated on purpose. While we kept going, he was taking photos, recording, saving pieces of that afternoon so that later, when it was just the two of us, we could watch it again and get turned on all over.
***
I had never had anal sex. It scared me, I confess, and even more so with two men who were very well endowed. But neither of them stopped, and the truth is I didn’t want them to. They went slowly, carefully, until the fear turned into something else.
Esteban sat on the edge of the bed and made me lower myself onto him. He fucked me like that, deep, holding me by the waist while I moved at my own rhythm. Then I felt Gabriel behind me, his hands opening me slowly, his mouth on the back of my neck telling me to breathe. And little by little, with a patience I was grateful for, he made his way in too.
The two of them at once. I don’t know how to explain what I felt at that moment: a mix of burning, fullness, of something brushing against a limit I didn’t know I had. They started moving, first out of sync and then finding a rhythm, and I was left between them like a taut string vibrating with every thrust. I clutched the sheets, buried my face in the mattress, and let my body do whatever it wanted, without thinking, without shame, completely surrendered to those two men holding me as if they knew exactly how much I could take.
—Like that? —Martín asked from the side, not stopping touching himself.
—Like that —was the only thing I could answer.
Sometimes I like rough sex, no holding back, and that afternoon was exactly that. They changed my position, sat me on one while the other came on my face, and I felt that warm liquid on my skin while the first one kept moving nonstop. The level of arousal in that room was something I had never experienced. I had one orgasm, and another, and another after that, one chained to the next, and every time I wanted more.
The curious thing is that I had barely had a drink. I don’t like alcohol, never have. Everything I felt that afternoon was mine, with nothing clouding it.
***
We took a break and I got into the shower. The hot water ran over my shoulders and for a moment I thought the encounter was over. I was wrong. When I came out, the three of them were waiting for me again.
They took turns touching me again, running their hands and mouths over me at the same time. Martín, lit up all over again, went down between my legs and made me scream with his tongue while I jerked off the other two. We went on like that for another two or three hours, unhurried, taking turns. Gabriel would go into the shower and I’d stay with Esteban and Martín; then Esteban would go get another drink and I’d keep going with Gabriel, and Martín would watch us and ask me over and over whether I liked it. It was fascinating to know myself desired by three men at once, to be the center of everything, the reason none of them wanted to leave.
When my body was finally starting to ask for rest, I asked them for one last thing. I wanted to finish myself, touching myself, with them watching me and doing the same, and for them to finish on me, wherever they wanted. So that’s what we did. I lay back, spread my legs, and touched myself while the three of them stood around the bed, masturbating and watching me.
We all came almost at the same time. I was writhing with pleasure, feeling those warm spurts on my chest, my mouth, my skin, and it was total ecstasy, the perfect ending to an afternoon unlike any other.
***
We enjoyed that visit to Gabriel’s far more than either of us had imagined. So much so that when we got home, still buzzing all over, Martín and I sought each other out again. We made love alone, slowly, saying out loud every single thing that had happened in the afternoon, laughing, getting turned on all over again with the shared account. We ended up spent, wrapped in each other’s arms, and fell asleep almost instantly.
I hope you enjoyed reading this experience as much as I enjoyed remembering it to tell you.
