My Husband Wanted to Watch Me with a Stranger That Night

There was already electricity in the air on Saturday night before we even closed the front door. Marcos watched me as I finished adjusting my black dress in front of the mirror—the one that clung like a second skin, with its deep, bra-less neckline and stockings held up by a garter belt. He came up behind me, brushed my hair away from my neck, and spoke in a low voice, almost breaking.

“Tonight you’re going to drive them all crazy,” he said. “And I’m going to love watching you lose control.”

I didn’t answer him. I only watched him through the reflection and let his hand slide down my hip. We had been talking about this in bed for weeks, in the dark, when confessions come more easily. That night, we both knew it was no longer just talk.

We arrived at the club with our usual group, but within minutes the world narrowed to the dance floor, the bass beating into our chests, and the glances crossing in the half-light. That was when I saw him.

He was dancing alone in the middle of the crowd, as if the music belonged to him. He was tall and slim, with dark skin that caught the blue reflections from the spotlights, and a black T-shirt clinging to his body without showing off. He moved his hips with a slow, almost hypnotic rhythm. Our eyes met, and neither of us looked away.

Marcos noticed immediately. He squeezed my waist and leaned toward my ear.

“That guy’s devouring you with his eyes,” he murmured. “Do you want to dance with him?”

“Very much,” I admitted, feeling heat rise along the insides of my thighs.

“Go. Press yourself against him. I want to watch.”

I went. He made room for me without stopping his movements, wearing a crooked smile that said he already knew everything. We started close, barely brushing against each other, sizing each other up. His hands were large, and they found my hips as if they already knew the way. He turned me slowly and pulled me back against his chest.

“Your name is…” he began, leaving the sentence hanging against my nape.

“It doesn’t matter tonight,” I replied.

I felt his hot breath on my skin and, lower down, his growing hardness against my back. We danced like that through several songs, sweat mingling, his fingers traveling up my sides until they brushed the sides of my breasts without ever quite reaching them. From the corner of my eye, I could make out Marcos’s silhouette at the table, watching us with eyes bright with desire and an abandoned glass in his hand.

“Are you here with someone?” he asked in my ear, his deep voice vibrating against it.

“My husband,” I said, arching my back to press myself more firmly against his body. “He’s watching us.”

He went still for half a second. Then he gave a low laugh and held me tighter.

“Then let’s give him something to watch.”

***

When we returned to the table, Marcos was waiting for us with fresh drinks. Without hesitation, he held one out to the stranger.

“Good show,” he said with a smile. “I’ve been horny for half the night just watching you two.”

The other man took a long drink, looking at both of us over the rim of the glass, trying to understand the rules of the game.

“Are you always this direct?” he asked with a half smile.

“We’re open-minded,” Marcos replied, then looked to me for confirmation. “And tonight we’d like to take this home. The three of us. If you’re interested.”

There was a silence lasting as long as it took a song to change. Then he set his glass on the table and nodded.

“My name is Darío,” he said, as if it suddenly mattered after all. “And yes. I’m in.”

In the car, I sat in the back with Darío. Marcos drove, occasionally catching my eyes in the rearview mirror without missing a thing.

“Kiss her,” he requested from the front. “I want to see how ready she already is.”

Darío kissed me deeply, his hot tongue slowly entering my mouth as his hand traveled up my thigh, pushed aside the thin fabric of my thong, and two long fingers sank into me. I moaned against his lips.

“You’re soaking wet,” he said, pulling back just slightly. “Do you always get like this?”

“Only when I know what’s coming,” I replied, panting.

Marcos’s husky laugh came from the front seat.

“Good answer, love.”

***

The front door closed behind us, and the air grew dense. In the living room, with the lights low, Marcos kissed me first. Slowly, deeply, claiming me the way he does when he wants to remind me who I belong to while lending me to someone else. His hands squeezed my breasts through the dress.

“Take it off,” he told Darío without breaking our kiss.

Darío came up behind me and lowered the zipper inch by inch, letting the dress slide to the floor. I was left in my thong, stockings, and garter belt, my nipples already hard in the cool air of the room.

“Fuck,” he murmured, lowering his head to catch one nipple in his mouth and tugging gently with his teeth.

I moaned loudly. Marcos knelt in front of me, spread my legs, and pushed the damp fabric aside with one finger.

“Look how she’s glistening,” he said, tracing my clitoris with his fingertip. “She’s begging for a tongue.”

He began to lick me slowly, his flat tongue moving over all of me before focusing on the exact spot—carefully at first, then with increasing hunger. Darío stayed above me, alternating between my breasts, sucking and pinching, while I barely managed to hold myself up with one hand on each of their heads.

“Do you like it like this?” Darío asked against my skin.

“Don’t stop,” was all I could say.

I came quickly, trembling, clutching Marcos’s hair as my leg gave way. He stood up and kissed me so I could taste myself on his mouth.

“Now it’s your turn,” he told Darío.

They switched places. Darío knelt, spread my legs farther apart, and buried his tongue in me eagerly, searching inside while his thumb rubbed me in circles. Marcos, standing, had pulled down his pants and was stroking himself as he watched us.

“Open your mouth, love,” he said.

He eased himself in slowly, holding the back of my neck and setting a leisurely rhythm while Darío continued below, devouring me. Being trapped between the two of them, one mouth full and the other between my legs, made me moan in a way I barely recognized.

“I want to fuck her now,” Darío said, standing and stripping off the rest of his clothes.

***

They put me on all fours on the sofa. Darío positioned himself behind me, gripped my hips, and entered slowly, making his way in little by little until he was buried to the hilt. I arched my back, biting my lip.

“So tight,” he groaned, not moving yet, letting me feel all of him.

“Slowly,” I asked, even though I was already pushing back against him.

He began to move deeply, withdrawing almost all the way and then sliding back in with carefully measured calm, each thrust a promise. Marcos walked around the sofa and stood in front of me.

“Suck me while he fucks you,” he said, gently taking hold of my hair.

I moaned with my mouth full, the vibrations surrounding his cock, while Darío sped up and my breasts swung with every thrust. One of his hands moved down to rub my clitoris without stopping his strokes.

“She’s going to come again,” Darío announced, feeling me tighten around him.

And I came, this time with my mouth occupied and my whole body shaking between them. Marcos pulled away and lifted my chin, looking at me with a strange tenderness in the middle of it all.

“To the bedroom,” he said. “I want both of you at once.”

***

In bed, Darío lay on his back and I climbed on top of him, guiding him inside me and lowering myself slowly until I felt completely full. I began to move, my hands braced against his chest while he held my hips.

“I love the way you squeeze me,” he murmured.

Marcos positioned himself behind me. I felt him preparing me patiently, with saliva and with what my own body was spilling, until he began to enter me from behind, millimeter by millimeter.

“Breathe, love,” he whispered against my back. “Relax.”

I did. And when both of them were completely inside me, I felt a fullness that left me breathless, the friction between them through that paper-thin wall making my legs tremble. I stayed still for a moment, my forehead resting on Darío’s shoulder as I took it in.

“Are you all right?” Marcos asked without moving.

“More than all right,” I panted. “Don’t stop.”

They began to move in sync, as if they had discussed it: one entered when the other withdrew, a slow rocking at first that gradually quickened. The three of us moaned together in the room, my back beaded with sweat, Marcos’s hands digging into my hips.

“Do you like having both of us?” he asked in my ear, biting my shoulder.

“It drives me crazy,” I replied. “Don’t stop, please.”

They sped up. I no longer had any control over the sounds I made. I came once more, tightening around both of them in contractions that seemed never to end, and I heard them both hold their breath.

“I’m going to come,” Darío warned in a strained voice.

“Do it,” I begged.

He let go with a deep growl, holding me tightly. Marcos lasted a little longer, then pulled out and finished across my back, leaving my skin hot and sticky. All three of us collapsed onto the bed, tangled together and panting, with no one wanting to move just yet.

Marcos kissed the back of my neck softly.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered.

Darío stroked my hair, still catching his breath.

“I have to do this again,” he said, and the three of us laughed quietly.

***

We showered together without hurrying, soap sliding between hands that were no longer searching for anything urgent, only the slow pleasure of touching one another. Darío left in the early hours, kissing each of us at the door and promising to send a message that I wasn’t sure would ever come.

The next morning, Marcos hugged me from behind while I made coffee, just as he had the night before in front of the mirror, but this time there was no hint of playacting in his voice.

“Write it all down,” he asked against my neck. “I want you to read it to me this afternoon, slowly, while the two of us relive it.”

And here I am on Sunday afternoon, my body still sensitive and the memory far too vivid. When Marcos gets home from work, I’m going to read him every word. And I know that as soon as I reach the part where the two of them were whispering to me at the same time, I’ll come just from remembering it.