My Husband Wouldn’t Stop Until He Convincing Me to Have a Threesome

When I blurted out the thing about a threesome with another guy, it was only to shut Adrián up. His jealousy sparked like embers when I least expected it, and I thought a comment that bold would make him back off, laugh, and drop the subject. But I didn’t know him as well as I thought. What I did was light a fuse that wouldn’t go out.

All of a sudden, my husband — the man who had taught me almost everything I knew about pleasure — turned into a strategist who wouldn’t accept no for an answer. And I, who had always been good at dodging uncomfortable topics, wasn’t prepared for what was coming.

At first I thought the comment would amount to nothing, something he’d forget in a few days. Adrián wasn’t the type to just throw out an idea like that. The next morning, while we were eating breakfast, him with his toast and me with my coffee, he looked at me with that crooked smile that undoes me.

—Have you kept thinking about the other guy? —he asked.

I almost choked.

—What guy? —I replied, pretending I didn’t know what he meant.

He didn’t let himself be fooled.

—You know which one, my queen. What you said last night. A threesome. You, me, and someone else.

His voice was calm, but his eyes had a gleam that made my skin crawl.

I wanted to change the subject, talk about the weather or anything at all, but he kept going.

—Picture it, Carolina. Someone touching you while I watch. The two of us making you feel things you’ve never felt before.

I laughed nervously.

—You’re crazy. That’s not for me.

But he didn’t give up. He leaned closer, took my hand across the table, and looked at me squarely.

—I’m not crazy. I just think you’d look so good like that, free, enjoying yourself.

His fingers brushed mine, and though I wanted to pull away, I didn’t. There was something in his tone, in his confidence, that made me doubt my own limits.

The following days were a strange dance. Adrián didn’t push head-on; he wasn’t the type to badger you until you were worn out, but he managed to slip the subject into every corner of our life. One afternoon, while we were watching a movie on the sofa, he paused a steamy scene.

—Look at that. Two men with a woman. Don’t you think it’s hot?

I turned red and muttered a “I don’t know” that didn’t convince him. Another time, under the shower, he lathered my back and whispered against my nape that he imagined another hand there, beside his own. His voice was a purr, and even though the warm water relaxed me, my head was a whirlwind.

I never told him no, because I didn’t want to disappoint him, but I didn’t say yes either. “That’s weird, Adrián,” I’d answer, or “I don’t think I could.” But he, clever as he was, began playing with my own curiosity, the one I had always kept hidden away.

One night, after dinner and a couple of glasses of wine, he took me to the bedroom and undressed me slowly, kissing me from my neck down to my navel.

—You’re the sexiest thing that exists —he murmured.

As he touched me, he added softly that he imagined someone else watching me, wanting me just as much as he did, with him in control of everything. His fingers slipped between my legs and I moaned before I could stop myself, because even though the idea scared me, his voice and his touch were melting me.

It wasn’t just what he said, it was how he said it. Adrián knew how to heat me up, knew how to make me doubt my own noes. One morning, while I was getting dressed to go out, he came up behind me, wrapped his arms around me, and looked at me in the mirror.

—Look at yourself, my queen. You’re a dream. Don’t you really want someone else to see what I see?

I laughed and moved away, but he kept at it, unhurried, telling me just to think about it. And that was the worst part: I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Every time he mentioned it, my mind imagined things, a faceless man tracing my skin, Adrián watching with that hunger of his. And as embarrassed as I was to admit it, something in my body responded.

***

The breaking point came one night I’ll never forget. We’d had a long day and I was exhausted, stretched out on the bed in a long T-shirt and nothing else. Adrián came home from work, took off his shirt, and lay down beside me, caressing my leg with that calm that drove me crazy.

—Carolina —he said softly—, don’t tell me it doesn’t tempt you, even a little.

I sighed, tired of dodging the issue.

—It’s just that I don’t know. It scares me. What if I don’t like it? What if you regret it?

He leaned in and kissed my shoulder.

—I’d never regret anything we do together. And if you don’t like it, we stop. But let me see you like that, free, mine and someone else’s, just once.

I didn’t answer, but he didn’t need words. He turned me slowly, got on top of me, and started kissing me, deep, with that urgency that left me in pieces. His hands slid up my thighs, lifting my T-shirt, and when he had me naked he stopped for a second, looking at me as if I were something worth memorizing.

—Imagine it now —he whispered, sliding one finger inside me, slow, while his other hand squeezed one breast—. Another man here, touching you, and me telling him how to do it.

I moaned; I couldn’t help it, and he smiled, knowing he had me. He went on like that, touching me, kissing me, talking.

—You in the middle, the two of us giving you pleasure, me watching you come.

His fingers moved faster and my body arched against him, betraying me.

—Tell me yes, my queen. Just say yes.

When he slipped in another finger and brushed my clit with his thumb, I lost control.

—Yes, okay, yes! —I shrieked, half orgasm, half surrender.

He laughed, triumphant, and kissed my mouth while I trembled beneath him. He didn’t stop there. He unbuttoned his pants, spread my legs, and drove into me with a thrust that tore a cry from my throat. He fucked me hard, his hips crashing against mine, his hands clamped on my waist, repeating in my ear that I was going to be his like that, with someone else, and that it was going to be perfect. Lost in pleasure, I couldn’t deny it anymore. I came again, moaning his name, and he finished inside me with a deep growl.

Afterward, while we lay there sweating and tangled together, he stroked my hair.

—I knew you were going to say yes.

—You’re a cheat —I murmured, still breathless.

—No. I just know what you want before you do.

I wanted to argue, but I couldn’t. Because he was right: he had convinced me, not with force, but with that cunning of his that made me fall every time.

***

Saying yes was like letting a stone go over a cliff: once it started rolling, there was no way to stop it. The next morning I woke up before he did. He was sprawled beside me, naked under the sheets, with tousled hair and that peaceful face he has when he sleeps. I stared at him for a while, trying to understand how we had gotten here.

I got up slowly, put on my T-shirt, and went to make coffee, but my head wouldn’t stop. While the water boiled, I leaned against the counter and closed my eyes. Was I really going to do this? Was I really going to let another man touch me, with Adrián watching? The idea gave me goosebumps, and not just from nerves. There was something else, a tingling I didn’t want to admit to, a curiosity he had managed to awaken with his words and his hands.

Adrián came in a little later, in boxer shorts, scratching his head, and kissed my cheek while pouring himself coffee. I was still lost in my thoughts, and he noticed, because he notices everything.

—What’s wrong?

I hesitated, turning the mug in my hands.

—Do you really want this? The threesome, I mean.

He looked at me steadily, without blinking.

—Yes. I want it. But only if you want it.

I wanted to tell him I wasn’t sure, that I was scared, but he stood up, hugged me from behind, and rested his chin on my shoulder.

—You don’t have to decide today —he whispered, kissing my neck—. But don’t tell me you didn’t like thinking about it last night, because I felt you trembling.

His hands moved up my waist, brushing my breasts over the fabric. I moaned softly, because he was right: my body gave me away even though my mind was still fighting.

He didn’t leave it there. In the following days he started moving the pieces, subtle but firm, as if he already had a plan. One afternoon, at lunch, he dropped it out of nowhere.

—What if it were someone we know? Someone trustworthy, so you don’t feel weird.

I looked at him with my fork halfway to my mouth.

—Who?

—I don’t know. Someone like Bruno, for example. He’s my brother, he’s shy, he wouldn’t make you uncomfortable.

My heart leapt. Bruno? The same Bruno who could barely look me in the eye when he came to visit?

—You’re crazy —I said, laughing to take the edge off.

But he didn’t laugh.

—Think about it. It would be perfect.

The idea kept turning over in my head. Bruno was the younger one, quiet, a good guy who always got nervous around me. But he was also Adrián’s brother, and that made it… easier? Weirder? I didn’t know what to think. He kept sowing the seed, as if he knew exactly how to get inside my head. One night, while massaging my shoulders in front of the television, he murmured that he imagined Bruno learning with me, with him guiding him, like a gift for the three of us. I gave him a elbow and told him to stop, mortified, but he insisted there was nothing to be ashamed of, that it was our game.

***

The day he decided to make a move, I was cleaning the living room to keep myself busy. Adrián came in with a smile he couldn’t hide and tossed his keys onto the table.

—I’m going to call Bruno tonight.

I set the broom aside.

—What are you going to say to him? —my voice came out higher than I wanted.

He took me by the waist and gave me a quick kiss.

—Nothing weird, my queen. I’m just going to test the waters, see how he reacts. Trust me.

I wanted to protest, but he was already dialing, and my heart jumped into my throat. I listened from the kitchen, pretending to wash dishes while my ears clung to every word. They started talking about nonsense, work, a movie, and I almost relaxed, thinking nothing would happen. Then Adrián changed his tone.

—Hey, do you remember that time we played bottle? When Carolina kissed you.

Silence. My hand froze over a glass and I swear I stopped breathing. Bruno stammered something nervously, and Adrián kept going, casual, saying it had been hot, that I was amazing. Another silence, and my face burned.

—What would you think if I told you that sometimes we fantasize about things like that? Carolina and I.

I wanted to run and snatch the phone from him, but my legs wouldn’t move. Bruno took a long time to answer, and when he did, his voice was a whisper.

—Really? Like what?

Adrián didn’t rush.

—Like sharing her, for example. With someone trustworthy, like you.

I clapped a hand over my mouth to keep from screaming. So direct? But he knew what he was doing. Bruno only managed to say that was weird, and Adrián cut him off with a “don’t worry, it’s just an idea, think about it” before hanging up. When he came into the kitchen, I looked at him like he was an alien.

—What did you do?

He laughed and hugged me.

—I just planted the seed. Now we wait.

That night I couldn’t sleep. I lay there staring at the ceiling, imagining Bruno thinking about me, about that clumsy kiss in the game, about what his brother had told him. Would he be scared? Would he be curious? And me, what did I want to happen? Adrián stroked my back and whispered that everything was going to be fine.

A couple of days went by and I was a bundle of nerves. Every time the phone rang I thought it was Bruno. Until one Friday he called, and Adrián winked at me before answering. I caught fragments: Bruno saying he’d thought about it, that he didn’t know how he felt, that it was weird “but I don’t know.” Adrián handled it like an expert, repeating that it was something of ours, special, that if he went for it it would be with us and nobody else. In the end, Bruno let out a “maybe” that left me shaking.

When he hung up, he looked at me triumphantly.

—He’s in. He just needs one more little push.

—And now what? —I murmured.

He pulled me onto the sofa and sat me on his lap.

—Now we invite him, we play again, and we let it happen.

He kissed me deeply, and his hands slid up my T-shirt, squeezing my breasts while he growled about how sexy it would be to see me with him. I moaned, trapped between fear and the heat rising through my body, and I knew I could no longer escape.

That night, Adrián made love to me as if he wanted to brand me, his thrusts hard, his dirty words in my ear, repeating my name and his brother’s in the same sentence until I came screaming, lost in the madness he had created. Afterward, while we rested, he whispered that next weekend we’d make it real. And I, with my heart in my throat, could only nod, because even though I was still scared, part of me was already ready to jump.