My Wife Wanted to Share Herself with Our Friends

We’re the kind of couple that looks boring from the outside. Marisa is in her forties, with cinnamon-colored skin and brown eyes that still undo me when she looks at me a certain way. My name is Damián, and I’m a couple of years older than her. Our two kids already live on their own in another city, so the house was left to the two of us, with everything that implies.

And it implies a lot. Even after all the years together, we still seek each other out almost every night. We never lost our hunger. What changed, with time, was that we started talking about things we once didn’t even dare to name. One of them kept coming back: bringing a third person into bed. Sometimes we said it as a joke, sometimes not so much.

—What if it ever happened? —she asked me one night, still breathing hard—. Would it bother you to see me with someone else?

The truth is it didn’t bother me. It turned me on like few things ever have.

We thought about signing up for some swingers’ club, but the mere idea made us lazy. Everything sounded too arranged, too catalog-perfect. We preferred to wait for the right moment to come on its own, without forcing anything. And the moment, as it almost always does, came on an ordinary Saturday.

***

We’d gone out to dinner at a restaurant downtown, with no big plans. We were finishing dessert when my phone rang. It was Rubén.

—Damián, buddy, where are you? —his voice already had that tone of someone who started drinking early.

—Having dinner with Marisa, killing the Saturday. What’s up?

—We’re at Gonzalo’s place, knocking back a few beers. Come by for a while and then we’re heading to a party. You in?

I asked my wife. She shrugged, smiled, and said why not. Twenty minutes later we were ringing Gonzalo’s bell. The two of them opened up, Rubén and him, already pretty loose-tongued.

—Well, look who showed up —Gonzalo said—. And where did the beers go, Marisa?

—You two sure don’t waste any time —she replied, amused—. Hey, and Lucía? And your wife, Rubén?

—Lucía went to see her parents for the weekend —Gonzalo answered.

—And I fought with mine —Rubén said, shrugging—. Jealous-woman nonsense.

—You must’ve done something —Marisa pointed at him, laughing—. You look guilty.

—I’m a saint, babe, I wouldn’t hurt a fly.

—Yeah, sure, a saint —I said—. Behave yourself or one day they’ll show you a red card.

We started drinking, the four of us. Someone put on music and, without realizing it, we were all dancing in the living room. Marisa loosened up fast. Alcohol always does that to her, and that night she was wearing a tight skirt that hugged her hips and a blouse with a neckline that left little to the imagination. She danced with one, then the other, moving with a looseness I know well.

—Excuse me, Damián —Rubén said in my ear while she spun with Gonzalo—, but your wife is on another level.

—I know, buddy —I told him—. And it shows your eyes keep drifting her way.

He didn’t deny it. He laughed and patted my shoulder. From the patio we watched them dance, Marisa pressed against Gonzalo, him saying things in her ear that made her throw her head back and laugh. I could see her face flushing. When she drinks too much, she stops measuring her words and starts looking for trouble.

***

In the middle of a song, Marisa pulled away from Gonzalo and came straight to me. She took my hand and, pretending to be dizzy, told me to come with her to the bathroom. Her voice said one thing, but her eyes said something very different.

—I’m burning up, Damián —she whispered as soon as I closed the door—. What those two said drove me crazy. Touch me.

I pressed her against the sink, lifted her skirt, and moved her underwear aside. She was soaked. I fucked her right there, covering her mouth with my hand so it wouldn’t be heard all over the house, though she still let out little moans between my fingers.

—You like teasing them, don’t you? —I whispered in her ear, punctuating every thrust—. You love knowing they’re dying for you.

—Yes —she panted—. I love it. I want them to look at me. I want you to want me while they’re looking.

We finished fast and messily, both of us trembling, trying not to laugh. But when we came out, we found Rubén and Gonzalo too close to the door, with faces that said they hadn’t heard a thing.

—You nosy bastards —Marisa accused them, fixing her blouse—. Were you listening in?

—We heard noises and got worried —Gonzalo said, not very convincingly—. In case you needed anything.

—Sure, of course —she mocked—. That’s what you get for showing up without your women.

The music kept going. So did Marisa, freer and freer, more and more provocative. She sat on my lap for a moment and rubbed her hips against me, then did the same with the other two, laughing at the faces they made. At one point she took off her blouse and kept dancing in her bra, a thin lace thing that showed more than it hid. Rubén and Gonzalo were cheering her on like she was on a stage.

—Your wife is a bombshell, brother —Rubén said, no longer pretending otherwise.

—And how do you think I feel? —I answered, and the three of us laughed.

***

When the song ended, Marisa pretended to be dizzy again. She asked Gonzalo to lend her a room to lie down for a bit before going on. He, suddenly nervous, led her upstairs. Rubén and I stayed in the patio, smoking, quietly laughing at how obvious my wife was being.

Several minutes passed and Gonzalo still hadn’t come down. All he had to do was show her the room and come back. The wait had me wound up to the max. I kept imagining what was happening upstairs and all the blood went to the same place.

—Don’t you think it’s weird he’s taking so long? —I said to Rubén.

—He’s probably “building” the bed —he replied, dying of laughter.

—Let’s go up and check, slowly.

We climbed the stairs pressed against the wall, holding in our laughter like two teenagers. The second floor had the bedrooms facing each other and a bathroom in the middle of the hall. Gonzalo’s bedroom door was half open, and through the crack my wife’s voice drifted out, that hoarse voice she only gets when she’s completely surrendered.

I pushed the door open without making a sound. Marisa was lying on the bed, naked, and Gonzalo was between her legs, his head buried in her. They didn’t hear us come in. I stood frozen in the doorway for a second, heart hammering, with a very strange mix of what should have been anger and was, in fact, pure desire.

—Well, well —I said at last.

They both startled. Gonzalo lifted his head, white as paper, starting to stammer an apology. Marisa sat up abruptly, reached for the sheet, and looked at me in terror.

—Damián, my love, I swear that…

—No —I cut her off—. Don’t cover yourself.

The silence turned thick. Rubén, behind me, didn’t even dare breathe. Marisa searched my eyes, trying to understand what was going to happen. And what happened was that I sat in the chair next to the bed, got comfortable, and held her gaze.

—Go on —I said—. Don’t stop for me.

***

It took my wife a moment to understand. Then a slow smile crossed her face, that smile I knew by heart and that meant she’d let herself go completely. She lay back down and opened her legs for Gonzalo, staring straight at me as she did it.

—Is this what you wanted? —she asked me, almost in a whisper—. To see me like this?

—This —I answered.

Gonzalo didn’t need any more permission. He went back down and Marisa arched her back, letting out a long moan she no longer tried to hold in. Rubén, who’d been standing beside me, moved closer as if drawn by a magnet, and she reached out to him, pulling him to the bed. Soon there were four hands roaming over her body: one mouth on her breasts, another between her legs, fingers everywhere.

—That’s it, guys —she panted—. Don’t stop. I want to feel both of you.

I came in from the other side and kissed her mouth, slowly, while they kept going. I wanted her to know I was there, that I was the one who had opened that door for her. She kissed me back with a hunger I didn’t know she had, biting my lip, breathing into my mouth every time one of the others wrung a spasm out of her.

Rubén settled beside her face and she took him in her hand and brought him to her mouth without anyone asking. She did it looking at me, as if the real show was for my eyes and not theirs. Gonzalo, meanwhile, drove into her with a hard thrust and my wife cried out against Rubén’s cock.

—Look at her —Gonzalo said to me, out of breath—. Look at the woman you’ve got, Damián.

I was looking at her. Hell if I wasn’t. She was transformed, lost, beautiful in a way I had never seen on her before. I got up from the chair, stripped too, and joined them. Marisa let go of Rubén for a moment to reach for me.

—Come here —she begged—. I want yours. I want all three of you.

***

What followed had no order or measure. My wife moved from one set of arms to another, from one mouth to another, never stopping to look for me with her eyes at every change, as if asking my permission and at the same time daring me to slow her down. I never slowed her down. Every time she hesitated, I nodded, and that only seemed to turn her on even more.

—You’re incredible —I whispered in her ear in one of those moments, while Gonzalo held her by the hips—. You have no idea what you do to me.

—I know —she panted—. I can feel it in the way you look at me.

She climbed onto Gonzalo and, while he thrust into her from below, Rubén positioned himself behind her. Marisa turned to look at me one last time, seeking that silent confirmation, and I nodded. She took a breath, bit her lip, and let the two of them fill her at once. I held her face between my hands so she could rest her forehead against mine.

—I’m with you —I told her—. I’m right here.

—Don’t let go of me —she begged me, her voice broken by sheer pleasure—. Keep looking at me.

I stayed. I held her gaze while she trembled between the three of us, while her moans turned into sobs and her whole body tightened like a rope about to snap. When she came, she did it screaming, her legs convulsing and her eyes fixed on mine, as if I was the one giving her the orgasm and not them.

After that, one after another, the three of us finished. She received each spurt with a kind of broken laugh, exhausted and happy, repeating that she didn’t want us to stop, that she’d waited years for this without even knowing it.

***

The four of us lay there on the bed in silence, catching our breath. The music kept playing downstairs, oblivious to everything. Marisa laid her head on my chest and reached for my hand.

—Are you okay? —she asked quietly, just for me.

—Better than ever —I answered, and it was the truth.

—It’s been the best night of my life —Gonzalo said from the other side, still panting.

—A thousand times better than any party —Rubén added, and the four of us laughed.

That early morning, on the way back in the car, Marisa took my hand at a traffic light and looked at me with a tenderness that had nothing to do with what had just happened.

—Thank you —she said.

—For what?

—For never letting go of my hand.

I didn’t answer. I just squeezed her fingers and pulled off when the light turned green. The two of us knew, without needing to say it, that this hadn’t been an ending. It was barely the beginning of something we’d been waiting for years.