My Friend’s Last Fight Ended in Our Bed

My friend Andrés called me three months earlier, practically shouting to tell me about it: he’d been invited to a charity gala in Burgos where, once again, he was saying goodbye to the ring. He’d spent his whole life on the canvas, first in boxing and then in kickboxing, and the two of us had shared countless bouts of sweat, bitter defeats, and a fair few nights of celebration. He had fought twice for the national middleweight title. Now, at last, the gloves were going to hang from a nail.

My partner and I didn’t think twice. We got in the car and showed up there to keep him company. Two hours before the fight, we were already hugging him after years without seeing each other, catching up in fits and starts, wishing him luck and, above all, telling him to enjoy himself. We made plans to have dinner together when it was all over.

The fight wasn’t especially dazzling. Andrés won on points, though not as clearly as we’d expected. A couple of heavy hands from his opponent, much less technical but younger and more explosive, landed cleanly and put him in a tight spot that only his granite head saved him from.

“You’re getting old, Grandpa,” I told him in the locker room, still with my heart in my throat.

“And you’re fatter,” he shot back, laughing, spitting out his mouthguard.

***

A while later, the four of us were on the terrace of a bar: Andrés, his opponent — who was really almost his disciple, a kid called Iván — my wife and me. We were trading war stories from the days when we’d fought in proper kickboxing, the kind where a checked low kick against the shin would leave you limping for a whole month. We were talking about a time that no longer exists anywhere except in our heads.

Carla listened with amusement, leaning against my shoulder, and every so often she’d ask a question that tied both fighters up in their own lies. Iván kept sneaking glances at her whenever she laughed, and then he’d lower his eyes right away, as if he’d been caught doing something wrong.

At one point, when the two of us stepped up to the bar to order, Andrés leaned toward me.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but your wife is smoking hot,” he muttered. “The kid can’t take his eyes off her.”

I looked over at the table. Iván had indeed gone red and was nodding without daring to speak. And instead of annoying me, an idea crossed my mind — one of those ideas that take three seconds to become a plan.

“If you really like her,” I said, holding Andrés’s gaze, “we could end the evening the four of us at the hotel.”

He fell silent for a moment, weighing whether I was serious. He understood that I was.

***

I spoke to Carla alone outside, by the car. At first she didn’t see it clearly at all: we’d only known them for two hours, one of them was practically a kid. But it wasn’t the first time we’d played this game, and she knows that as well as I do. I suggested a simple game. Ten minutes later her eyes were shining. Half an hour later the four of us were walking into our room, with that thick electricity you feel when everyone knows what’s going to happen and no one dares name it.

The rules that night were mine. I put a cloth blindfold on Carla that didn’t let through a single sliver of light. She let me do it, docile, with that half-smile of hers that appears whenever she’s giving herself over completely. I would act as master of ceremonies, as I had other times, and the three of them would obey me without argument or a word. That was the only condition: absolute silence. She was not to know, at any moment, whose hands were touching her.

“Take your clothes off slowly,” I told her in her ear.

And she did. Unhurried, wasting that confidence of hers that has driven me crazy so many times. She took off her clothes one piece at a time, revealing a body the two fighters watched without hiding it, holding their breath. When she was completely naked in the middle of the room, blind behind the mask, I motioned to the other two not to move from where they were.

I went first. I kissed her slowly, biting her lip, and my right hand slid down her back to her ass, kneading it without haste, while with my left I stroked her breasts. I stayed like that for several minutes, feeling her tremble, until I let my fingers slip between her legs. She was soaked. One went in first, then two, and she opened her thighs a little more to invite me to go all the way in.

Only then did I make the first move.

***

Iván approached in silence. He was hard as a rock, thick as hell, and he brought it carefully to Carla’s mouth. She reacted the moment she felt it, parted her lips, and took the glans into her mouth, tasting it with her tongue while she kept moving her hips against my fingers. She licked him slowly, not knowing who he belonged to, and that — I know it because I know her — turned her on even more.

I guided the kid’s head with my free hand, setting the rhythm, until I saw him clench his teeth to hold on. Then I gave the second signal.

Andrés came up from the other side, also with his cock in his hand. And Andrés’s wasn’t a normal cock. At the gym, the closest guys had nicknamed him “wild horse,” and not because of his temper, but because of what he carried between his legs — huge, like few others. He brought it to Carla’s face, and when she brushed against it, she took it in her hand without letting go of the other one in her mouth. As she gauged the size with her fingers, a long moan escaped her, pure excitement. She’s never hidden the fascination that a cock like that provokes in her, especially because of the thickness.

She started massaging him and Andrés closed his eyes. Her hand went up and down, pausing on that enormous glans, bumping against heavy balls covered in dark hair. She had one in each hand and a mouth full, and she looked lost, completely surrendered to the game.

***

I couldn’t hold out any longer. I spread her legs as far as I could, tipped her forward, and drove my cock into her in one thrust, all the way to the hilt. I grabbed her by the hips and pumped hard, pinning her against me, feeling her moan around the two cocks she was still tending with her hands and mouth. I lasted only a little while. The whole scene, her blindfolded and surrounded, was too much. I came with a grunt, emptying myself inside her.

I leaned her a little farther over the edge of the bed, pulled out of her, and gently pushed Iván so he could take my place.

“Fuck her hard,” I whispered in his ear. “Don’t hold back.”

He didn’t need asking twice. He drove into her in one stroke and started pounding with a fury only youth has. Andrés, meanwhile, was still getting a blowjob that would go down in history, and from the tension in his jaw I knew he was right at the edge. I sat in an armchair at the far end of the room, enjoying the show with a calm I didn’t feel on the inside.

“I’m coming,” Iván muttered suddenly.

He emptied himself inside her and collapsed for a moment onto her back, panting. I signaled for him to move aside and give his place to Andrés.

***

The change was obvious to Carla, even if she couldn’t see it. First he offered her his mouth, and Iván’s softened cock slid between her lips. Then Andrés positioned himself behind her. It wasn’t easy. He had to work his way in very slowly, millimeter by millimeter, until his balls struck her ass and he couldn’t go in any further.

Carla came with her back arched, with a cry that reverberated through the whole room. That finished turning Andrés on, and he sped up the pace until he let loose a burst he could no longer hold back. When he pulled out, several thick streams slid between her thighs, and she fell forward trembling, spent.

I thought that was enough. But Iván, looking at all that, had gotten hard again.

***

I signaled for him to wait. I flipped Carla over, put her on all fours on the bed, and laid Andrés underneath her so he could lick her cunt from below. Then I ran my tongue over her asshole, unhurried, lubing it thoroughly, and motioned Iván to penetrate her from behind.

The sodomy was brutal. Iván held her by the hips and pounded with everything he had, while Andrés devoured her pussy from underneath, taking the blows on his own balls every time the kid drove in deep. Carla could barely hold on, moaning between the two of them, until a new orgasm, the strongest of the night, shook her from top to bottom. She collapsed, exhausted, legs spread over Andrés, with no strength left even to speak.

I made one last signal and the two of them got up silently, heading for the shower. I stayed with her. I cleaned her carefully, tracing her still-warm skin, and covered her body in slow kisses until her breathing returned to normal. Her face, beneath the blindfold, was a poem of satisfaction.

I slowly removed the mask. She blinked, seeking the light, and held my gaze with a complicit smile.

“Well?” I asked her. “Could you tell me who did what?”

From her silence, and from how she bit her lip before answering, I knew that wasn’t going to be the last time.