Threesomes & Orgies

When Lucía took off her bikini in front of me in their room, I realized that weekend at the beach was no longer going to be about sunbathing.

After twenty-four years of marriage, Marina whispered that she only wanted to watch. Three hours later, I was watching another man drive her out of her mind.

Bruno carried me aloft, pinned to his body as if I weighed nothing, and I let myself go. What I never imagined was that someone was watching us from the window across the way, camera in hand.

I bought lingerie for a night alone with my wife. I never imagined I’d end up watching her in another man’s arms while his wife settled into my lap.

“It’s going to be shopping with a happy ending,” she told me with that smile that wasn’t innocent. I never imagined we’d end up in a hedge maze with another couple.

Damn the hour I opened my mouth. It was only a thought said out loud, but my wife already had the other woman’s phone number in her hand and a smile I’d never seen before.

I walked through the curtain convinced I was looking for a man. The hand that took mine in the darkness was soft, perfumed, and wouldn’t let go until everything changed.

We went up with two bottles of champagne and the idea of spending a pleasant evening. No one told us the family across the hall understood dinner differently.

When Lucía and I arrived at that house, what we saw in the living room left us breathless. I knew the night had only just begun and neither of us wanted to leave.

I’d spent a year listening to her describe who touched her while I only watched. That New Year’s Eve, with a glass in her hand, she whispered in my ear that this time I wouldn’t be left out.

Marina blindfolded me and whispered that I should choose that night. Three women watched me from the terrace’s shadows, and my heart beat like a drum.

I’d never watched another couple fuck from a meter away. With my friend moaning in the next bed, I discovered that watching and being seen turned me on like nothing else.

When Diego asked me to sit between the two front seats, I knew that trip was far from over—and that night, neither of the men was going home early.

The plan was perfect: in my friend’s costume, my wife would never know the stranger dancing with her among the masks was me.

Sofía was asleep with her back to me when the first moans came through the wall. I woke her with my hand between her legs: —Shut up and listen, I told her.

If we lasted five minutes, then the women would compete afterward. What began as a joke among friends ended with the four of us naked in the same bed.

We went down to the sauna without swimsuits and I understood that my wife and her cousin had already talked it all over: that mountain weekend was not going to be what we’d been told.

I never imagined that shy girl with glasses, who blushed at the mention of sex, would end up naked and eager in a tent lost in the desert.

We had arranged to be five that summer afternoon. At seven the phone rang, one of us wasn’t coming, and yet we still opened the door to two strangers.

She gave me one condition: if she didn’t like him, nothing would happen. What I didn’t expect was that by the end of the night, she would leave me alone with the other woman.