The Couple Invited Me to Something I Had Never Tried Before

They had finally lifted the restrictions and the city was breathing again. After months locked behind four walls, every contact I had made during that long confinement was starting to become real. It was Tuesday; we had been back in the office for only a few days and work was piling up. Just as I switched off the bedside lamp, my phone vibrated on the wood with a bluish glow.

I unlocked the screen and opened the app. It was a message from a couple I had exchanged a few words with during lockdown, never going beyond flirtation at a distance. Her name appeared in the conversation, and beneath it, a short text.

—Good evening. Would you like to take part in something special with us tomorrow at noon? There would be several of us.

I liked the proposal immediately, although making room for it at work on such short notice was almost impossible. They had just lifted lockdown and nobody was in the mood to do favors. Even so, the novelty of it outweighed caution.

—Good evening. I’ll be there —I replied, without thinking too hard about it.

I had no idea what I was going to find, or how the scene would unfold, or how many people we would be. The mere idea of trying something I had never experienced was enough for me to agree without asking any more questions.

—Perfect. I’ll send you the location tomorrow. It’ll be around eleven-thirty —she replied almost instantly.

In my mind, half-focused images began to take shape, shadows of bodies and hands that never quite settled into form. I rested my head on the pillow with an erection that almost hurt and a desperate urge to relieve myself. I held back. I wanted to reach the next day with all my desire intact, without wasting a single drop of what I intended to give.

***

I woke up with the same tension with which I had fallen asleep. And the same image: a woman in the center of a circle of men, receiving everyone’s attention at once, moving from one to another while the others waited their turn. I had to ignore my body again and get under cold water for a few seconds to clear my head.

I went straight to work and, as soon as I arrived, I looked for my boss. I told him a small, convenient lie about a medical checkup that couldn’t be postponed. He didn’t object; in those days, any health issue opened every door. I left the building with my heart racing and a strange feeling, as if I were ditching school like a teenager.

It was ten-thirty when I got home. I stepped into the shower without wasting a minute. The night before I had shaved everything, so when I got out I only needed a little perfume and to choose my clothes. Something comfortable, easy to take off. I looked at myself in the hallway mirror longer than necessary.

At eleven I received two messages in a row. The first included the location; the second, an apology and a change of time: the meeting was delayed by another hour. As a guest, I wasn’t in a position to protest, so I accepted and headed to the address the navigation app showed me on the other side of the city. It took me a long while to park and, even so, I still had time to spare. I killed it in the car, going over the conversation from the previous months and looking once more at the photos of the two of them.

***

It was exactly twelve-thirty when I pressed the intercom button. They let me in without asking who I was, as if they were expecting me. Second floor. I took the stairs, ignoring the elevator to burn off some nerves, and when I reached the landing I saw that the door at the end was ajar.

I pushed it open slowly and went in. She greeted me, Marisol, wearing a sheer slip that hinted at a dark lingerie set underneath. The fabric clung to a body the lockdown had not damaged in the least, all curves and promise. She had large, jet-black eyes and a smile that barely touched the corner of her lips.

—Hi —I said, almost in her ear.

—Hi —she replied in a low voice—. Come in and sit there.

She took me by the hand and led me to an armchair by the window. In the living room there were three other men, standing, scattered around the room with the awkwardness of strangers who still don’t dare speak. By the expectant looks on their faces, I gathered that for more than one of them this was first-time territory too.

Marisol soon came to sit beside me. She did it with disarming ease, as if we had known each other forever, and before I could say anything she unfastened my pants and slid her hand inside to size up what she found.

—You’ve got something to keep me entertained. I like it —she murmured, brushing my ear with her lips.

Her gaze was loaded with calm lust, the kind of look of someone who knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. Far from intimidating me, that confidence only turned me on more. I wanted to live up to it; I wanted to leave her satisfied.

Less than ten minutes later, there was another knock. A fifth man came in who, judging by the familiarity with which he greeted her, already knew her from before. Shortly after that came the sixth and last. He wasted no time: he introduced himself as her partner, lowered his mask, kissed her on the mouth while holding her by the waist, and then disappeared into the kitchen to come back with a beer in his hand.

One of the guys checked his watch and, with visible annoyance, announced that the schedule change had left him no margin and he had to leave. He said goodbye to everyone and asked the couple to call him another time. Marisol saw him to the door. When she came back to the living room, there were only four of us left around her, and her man, from the hallway entrance, lifted the beer like someone issuing an order.

—She’s all yours —he said—. Do whatever she asks.

***

He led her by the arm to a chair off to the side, sat down, and stayed there watching while she slipped out of the sheer slip and knelt in the center of the rug. The rest of us formed a semicircle around her almost without realizing it, drawn in like iron filings to a magnet.

I took off my pants and sneakers. Beside me, the man who already knew her did the same. The third barely unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down a little, uncertain. Marisol began alternating between us, tasting, measuring, handing out her mouth and her hands with a calm that made the waiting delicious.

I was hard as a rock. The whole situation had me on edge: a week earlier we were still locked in our homes, counting the days, and now I was here, in the living room of strangers, part of something I had only imagined. The third guy withdrew after a little while; he muttered an excuse, said he had a bit of a cold and couldn’t get into the mood, and got dressed in silence.

The two of us left kept tending to her without distraction. You could tell how aroused Marisol was, her breathing ragged, her skin burning hot. And then it seemed unfair to me. It couldn’t be that only we were enjoying her hands without giving her anything back. I knelt beside her, wrapped one hand around a breast, and pinched the nipple slowly while with the other I moved the thin fabric of her underwear aside and began to stroke her.

She was wet, much wetter than I expected. Her partner then rose from the chair, undressed unhurriedly, and came over so that it would be him she serviced with her mouth. I kept at it, feeling her moisture grow under my fingers. I slid two fingers inside her and with my thumb searched for the exact spot that made her tremble. She thanked me by lowering a hand to return the caress without stopping what she was doing with the others.

Suddenly I felt her clamp down, squeezing my fingers, and a long gasp rose in her throat. She was coming, and even so she didn’t stop. She kept going, even more intensely, until she leaned toward my ear.

—Thank you. Now it’s your turn. Stand up.

***

I stood up without hesitation and was brought level with her mouth. She pushed the hair out of her face and in less than five seconds had me completely wrapped around her. Her partner took the place I had left between her legs and, with the skill that only habit gives, made her come again within minutes, while she continued dividing herself between the other man and me.

When he finished, he straightened and stood watching the scene while stroking himself slowly. He didn’t last long. He pushed us aside with a gesture and was the first to let go over Marisol’s chest, a generous load that ran down from her chin. When he emptied himself, we reclaimed our place, and while she returned to my mouth I took the opportunity to spread that heat over her skin, massaging her, playing with her slick nipples.

The other guy caught my eye and, with a slight nod, warned me. I understood. I stepped back just in time to give him room in front of her, and immediately he let his release go over the same spot as his predecessor. His was even more generous; the trail ran down her stomach almost to her navel.

I was the only one left. I started stroking myself with all my strength and, even so, it was hard to get there, as if my head were playing tricks on me because of the novelty of it all. Marisol realized I was taking a while and decided to lend a hand. She slid hers along the inside of my thigh, moving up slowly, and when she reached the top a curious finger searched for a place where I wasn’t expecting contact. That unexpected touch sent a direct signal to my brain, and I came hard, without warning.

I emptied myself completely, adding my share to what was already covering her chest. I was left exhausted, sweaty, my legs weak, but with the certainty that every minute had been worth it.

—Thanks, guys —she said, holding both of us at once—. I’m going to take a shower, because you’ve completely worn me out.

She said it with a smile full of lust and mischief, the mixture of a woman satisfied and a girl who knows she has done something forbidden.

—Thank you —I told her as a goodbye—. Until next time —I added, looking at the other man, my only companion that afternoon.

I dressed slowly and left the apartment with a crooked smile hidden behind my mask, still unable to believe what had just happened.

***

I went down the stairs two at a time and walked to a nearby bar. I ordered a very cold pitcher and something to eat, and sat by the window to relive every detail, like someone replaying a film he can still barely believe. My phone vibrated on the table.

—We liked you a lot. We’d love to see you alone, the three of us, with nobody else.

The crooked smile came back to my face, this time without hiding it. I reread the message twice before answering.

—It will be a pleasure. I liked you a lot too.

—Perfect. We’ll be in touch. Kisses.

I put the phone face down, took a long pull from the beer, and sat looking out at the street, at the people flooding the sidewalks again after so many months of silence. The whole world seemed to be rediscovering freedom, and I, without having planned it, had just discovered mine in a way I would never have imagined.