Threesomes & Orgies

We had talked for weeks by message, but nothing prepared me to have them both before me by the sea, with all the rules ready to be broken.

For months I’d whispered the same fantasy in her ear. That afternoon, in a deserted cove, I stopped imagining it and watched it come true in front of me.

Her husband came home exhausted and fell asleep in front of the television. Her boss, on the other hand, looked at her as though he knew exactly what she imagined in the shower.

My wife noticed the waiter watching her as he served the tea, and I came up with the most forbidden idea of the entire trip: inviting him upstairs.

At three in the morning, the first message arrived. A woman tied to an unfamiliar bed and a sentence that chilled my blood: “this beauty is your wife.”

The night before my wedding I got myself ready alone in the hotel suite. What my future husband didn’t know was who I was really getting ready for.

Ten years of marriage collapsed over a gold earring left on the passenger seat. Carla decided divorce wouldn’t be the end, but only the beginning.

When the engine died in the middle of nowhere, Daniela knew that night would depend entirely on the two men sleeping in those trucks.

When the doctor told me I’d never have children, I thought I’d lost everything. I never imagined the answer would be sitting across from me, toasting as if nothing had happened.

No one had touched her for months. That January afternoon, alone in the locker room with three sweaty boys, she stopped thinking and surrendered to what followed.

I wasn’t wearing anything under my skirt when I knocked on that rusted railcar door. I only wanted one man. I had no idea the foreman would show up to lay down his rules.

They arrived at the ranch looking for a mattress to spend the night. What they didn’t expect was the story the two brothers had kept for years, or how eagerly they’d tell it.

The cold almost killed her in the mountains. When she woke, she was wrapped in a blanket by the fire, and the man who saved her was looking at her like she was the only living thing for miles.

She had never been in a sex shop, she told me. We went into a booth together, and amid the moans on the screen, she asked me for something I never imagined hearing from her lips.

Around the bend didn’t come a modern tow truck, but a rusted old rig and a huge man who smelled of the fields. And I knew, before he even opened his mouth, how he was going to collect from us.

What started as a paid massage in a small-town hotel turned into something my friend and I swore we’d never tell a soul.

I hadn’t been touched by anyone in two years. My daughter knew it, and that afternoon she showed up in my room with a thong two sizes too small and an idea in her head.

It started with his hand inside my pants while we pretended to watch the screen. None of the four of us said a word until it was impossible to stop.

The show was over, the drums had gone quiet, but the fire carnival had lit between her legs was only just beginning to burn.

I told them my comfort was more effective than any cold drink. I took off my clothes before going in and waited for the hot water to betray me in the steam.