My Wife Confessed Her Escape to Me and I Wanted to Share Her

It had been a while since I last sat down to write, and I suppose more than one of you may have wondered why. The truth is simple: I had nothing worth telling. Marina and I still have the best relationship a man could wish for, but truly extraordinary things don’t happen every day. Since that adventure I shared years ago, the one that was so well liked here, nothing had happened to us that was worth putting into words.

But life goes on. The years pile up without asking permission, and although we’re no longer young, we haven’t lost the slightest bit of our desire to enjoy ourselves. What I like most in the world, what my wife has always known how to give me, is seeing her with another man. Hearing her tell me about it, letting me watch, describing in detail everything they do to her. And we had gone too long without any of that.

Until that night.

Marina came back from the market after eleven. For anyone who knows our routine, that time was already a clue: the shop where she buys things is two blocks from home, and she never takes more than half an hour. I wasn’t worried. Quite the opposite. I learned long ago how to read her face, and that night she had an expression I recognized perfectly: bright eyes, flushed cheeks, a satisfied calm I only ever see after a certain kind of pleasure.

I said nothing. I watched her without her noticing. The first thing she did, even before putting away the groceries, was go into the bathroom, change her panties, and toss them into the washing machine. I waited until she came out, carefully lifted the lid, and rescued the garment.

There was the proof of what I already suspected.

The fabric still held the trace of what she had done. And it wasn’t a discreet trace. It was obvious, generous, the unmistakable mark that someone had had a very good time that afternoon. I put everything back as it had been and closed the washing machine. I wasn’t going to say a word. Not yet.

With Marina, it’s never wise to ask when things are still hot. You have to wait for the right moment. So I let a couple of days go by, and then I set up one of those encounters of ours that usually end well. I took her to bed slowly, warmed her up patiently, and when she was already pressed against me, desperate to come, I asked her.

—Are you going to tell me about the other day? —I murmured against her neck.

She didn’t pretend, didn’t play dumb. She smiled with her eyes closed.

—I knew you’d noticed —she said—. And I knew you were going to look at my panties. I didn’t even rinse them a little before throwing them in, because I didn’t care if you found out. I wanted to tell you, but at the right moment. And there’s no better moment than this one.

—Tell me everything —I asked her.

—With one condition —she fixed her gaze on me—. Hold back. Don’t come, even if I do. Because just remembering it, I’m going to come, and you know I can do that as many times as I want.

***

—We’d gone too long without one of our adventures —she began—. And I couldn’t think of anyone. I thought about going back to that place where we were before, but I wanted something different. Something secret, to make it hotter and then tell you about it afterward. And the opportunity fell into my lap from the sky.

She paused. My breathing was already speeding up.

—I ran into him at the market. Esteban.

She didn’t need to say anything else. Esteban was one of the first, back when we were just starting out in this. One of those who, at first, was content with kisses and looks, until the day he took her home and stayed for a lot more than coffee. We both knew him well. We had enjoyed him a lot.

—He was at the greengrocer’s, buying bananas —Marina went on, her voice already hoarse—. And he came out with one of his lines: that he bought them because what you eat is what you breed. I played along, told him that if he bred something the size of what he had in his bag, I wouldn’t even know what to do with such a thing. And he, without blinking, answered that maybe he’d use it with me.

I let out a muffled laugh. It was definitely him. Always with that smooth talk.

—I was already hot, you know? —she confessed—. In the mood. And he noticed right away, because it didn’t take him long to tell me he was dying to kiss my mouth whenever I wanted. We decided to have a coffee. We sat down and remembered things. The times we fucked ourselves tired while you watched. The first time he came up to the house. All of that.

She stopped abruptly, arched her back, and let out a long moan. She came right there, telling the story, with hardly any touch from me. It took her a while to catch her breath.

—Go on —I begged her—. Please, go on.

—As we talked, we kept getting worse and worse —she resumed—. At one point he told me, staring straight at me, that nothing he wanted more was to shove it back into me until it hit bottom. And I told him I’d let him shove it wherever he wanted, that I was dying for him to fuck me right there. You already know how I get when I start turning a man on with words. I enjoy doing that almost as much as everything else.

***

—He paid for the coffee and suggested we go somewhere we already knew, an underground parking garage where we’d been a couple of times. We went down to where he had his car. And as soon as he shut the door, he was all over me. He kissed me like a madman, slipped his hand under my blouse, squeezed my breasts. I could feel his cock rising in his pants, and I made another joke about the bananas.

I had to close my eyes. The image burned inside me.

—He didn’t waste any time taking it out —Marina said, slowly, savoring every word—. And I threw myself into stroking it, wanting to take it into my mouth. It was just like I remembered. Hold on a little longer, baby, the best part is coming now.

She kissed my shoulder and went on.

—He started rubbing my cunt over my leggings, with that skill he has in his fingers, the one I loved so much. I couldn’t help it and came again, just like I did now. Then he slipped his hand inside my panties, found out how wet I was, and yanked my leggings off in one pull. He moved my underwear aside and gave me a slow handjob, looking me in the face. I came again right away.

—And nobody saw you? —I asked, holding myself back like a damned man.

—People passed by to pick up their cars —she answered with a naughty smile—. I didn’t care. In fact, at one point I thought of you. I thought about what you would have given to be there, seeing me like that, with my clothes torn and another man’s hand between my legs. I wish you had been one of the ones who walked past.

Marina moved against me, rubbing herself, once again right on the edge.

—We moved to the back seats. He has a big car, with folding seats, almost like a bed. We both got naked from the waist down and he put it in me in one go, all the way to the bottom. I liked it so much that I kept asking him not to stop. I came while I felt him emptying inside me, leaking, filling me completely. And even then he didn’t pull out. He kept fucking me like it was the first time.

***

—At some point he mentioned you —she added, and I could tell she was doing it on purpose to turn me on even more—. He said that if he saw you there, you’d go crazy. He still remembered when you used to jerk off watching us. When the two of you did it to me at the same time. I told him you’d love to do those things again, and he told me he wouldn’t mind fucking me in front of you at all.

That was what broke me. The idea of having them both, of watching him enter her again while I decide the moment I join in, of sharing my wife the way we used to.

—We finished when he came a second time —Marina said, her voice barely there now—. I did too, one last time. And before we parted, it was clear: whenever you want, we’ll call him and throw a proper party. I thought he was too old to handle that much anymore, but he must have taken something, because he lasted like a bull. He swore it was an aspirin, but he can’t fool me.

When Marina mentioned the possibility of setting up a threesome with him again, she came once more, trembling all over in my arms. And then, yes, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I let go inside her to the very last drop, and it was so much that I understood how badly I needed that release.

***

We stayed wrapped around each other for a good while, catching our breath, both of us wearing that stupid smile people have afterward. It was one of those nights you keep. You can never take anything for granted: when you least expect it, life puts you face to face again with what you thought you had forgotten.

We’d had other adventures over the years, enough for those early flirtations with Esteban to have faded in memory. But now there was a promise on the table, a pending date to relive the best part of that time: watching my wife get fucked, right there, in front of me.

We’ll invite him over one of these days. One of the great advantages of doing it with someone who already knows what the business is about is that there’s no need for explanations, detours, or embarrassment. There’s no better show for a man than watching another man strip his wife of her panties with complete confidence and enjoy her without haste.

We’re getting older, that’s true, and precisely for that reason we have to make the most of every pleasure we have left. Marina, in this, is inexhaustible, and I know she’ll give me the best scenes as long as my body holds out. When it happens, I’ll tell it in full detail. We’ll probably try new things.

Once again, thank you to my wife, for continuing to give me what no other man is lucky enough to have. See you soon.