Threesomes & Orgies

There were seven women in that apartment, the wine had done its work, and Camila started talking. None of us expected what she confessed that night.

We went to the nude beach to relax. What began with furtive glances ended with her moaning among strangers while I couldn’t stop watching.

I thought the fire drill would last minutes. Two hours later, in a basement classroom with no signal and no witnesses, I understood it was no drill.

We were four forty-year-olds who’d never broken a plate. Raquel said we had to do something we couldn’t tell anyone about.

When I stepped out of the elevator, my thong already soaked and my dress clinging to my sweat, I knew that tequila wouldn’t remain just tequila.

When she arrived at the party in that dress, I knew something was going to happen. No one imagined we’d end up in her apartment, the four of us, teaching her everything.

She chose the man. I arranged the meetings. Neither of us knew exactly how that spring night in Barcelona would end.

The question I asked him on a Friday night in bed was only the beginning. The game had been running for weeks, and he had no idea.

I parked half a block away so I wouldn’t make noise. The door was unlocked and the lights were off. What I found at the end of the hallway changed everything.

The afternoon Diego showed up sweaty from the game and took off his shirt, everything changed. The tattoo Carmen had zoomed in on the night before.

Rodrigo told me bluntly one night, while I thought I was only going to sleep. His voice was calm, almost too calm for what he was asking me.

She looked at him as if she’d known him all her life. He smiled too much. And I, sitting across from them, was thinking about what I had done with each of them separately.

When my roommate told me, “Take me with you,” I knew that night was going to cost her more than her shyness. What I didn’t imagine was that he’d show up.

I’d spent weeks avoiding all of them. I wanted them worked up and waiting for that weekend. When I left the office on Friday, everything was already planned.

The toy vibrated inside Clara while she danced with strangers. Andrés controlled it from his table. No one in the bar knew a thing.

I kissed him for the first time at nineteen, but we couldn’t finish. Eleven years later, I found him at my boyfriend’s club with another woman on his arm.

Four powerful men dead in the same way. All naked, exhausted. Someone chose them, seduced them, and took them to the exact limit before the end.

I’d spent a month dreaming of seeing him again when my roommate confessed she was jealous of me. That same night I took her with me to the rave.

We’d set the perfect trap. But when Diego took me by the waist with that brutal confidence, I understood I was no longer the one in control.

Four coworkers, a pool, an entire night. The best vacation send-off I could have imagined.