The Dinner That Ended in a Wife Swap

Diego and I had spent far too long turning over the same idea, that perverse fantasy we kept putting off: swapping our wives for one night. Ours was a strange mix of lust and pride: we both adored our partners madly, and precisely because of that, the idea of sharing them had something forbidden we could never quite let go of.

Carla, my wife, had made it past forty without her body giving in to the years. She kept a firm figure, a generous ass, and breasts that still drew looks. Out of the four of us, though, she was the most reluctant to adventure. Sofía, Diego’s wife, on the other hand, had always had something about her that stood out to me. We even overlapped professionally, because she worked as an architect for one of my main clients. In recent months she had gotten into shape and, worst of all, she knew exactly how I looked at her.

As I was saying, fantasizing about a swap had been going on for a long time. We had occasionally shown each other a photo, them in lingerie, almost always just to tease the other. In one of our countless failed plans, after ruling out the idea of going to a club as unworkable, we proposed something simpler: a dinner for the four of us. And this time it actually happened. They had been warned, jokingly, about our true intentions.

It all began the night before the date. I was already aroused by the remote possibility that it might happen, and Carla and I were making love when she teased me with a smile.

—Do you think Diego would like these panties? —she whispered.

I didn’t answer with words. I started biting her breasts and stroking her over her thong while I told her in her ear that he would definitely like them. The fabric was wet and she arched her back, seeking my hand, laughing between sighs at her own provocation. I kept fucking her, but my head was already elsewhere, imagining Sofía in that same position, wondering whether she would moan the same way, whether she would dig her nails into me the same way. That night I barely slept.

***

The day arrived. We had left the kids with my in-laws and had the whole night ahead of us. While Carla got ready, she paced around the bedroom in a black thong and killer heels.

—You two aren’t serious, are you? Cut it out with the nonsense —she said, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye.

—Let the night take its course —I replied.

I took advantage of a lapse in attention to steal a photo of her and sent it to Diego. Look what could be yours, I wrote underneath. His reply took three seconds to arrive and it was anything but decent.

With our usual ten minutes of lateness, we arrived at the restaurant. The atmosphere was fun, but there was an undercurrent of tension impossible to hide: they were decidedly game, and the women were on alert. Dinner went by amid laughter and dirty jokes, memories of old nights, and, every now and then, some remark that crossed the line.

Diego kept praising Carla’s body, and she played along with a ease I rarely saw in public. Sofía, sitting directly across from me, started rubbing her foot against my leg, as if by accident, leaving it there longer and longer. I didn’t stop her. Under the tablecloth, her ankle slid slowly up my calf while she kept talking about the dessert menu with a calm that made me nervous. I ordered a coffee I didn’t drink. Every time our eyes met, there was a question between us neither of us dared ask out loud, even though the answers had already been decided.

Coincidentally, Carla and Diego, who almost never drank, did so that night without hesitation. When we got up, we were all loosened up by the wine. Sofía suggested continuing over a drink at her place instead of at a bar, and the four of us nodded and laughed, fully aware of where this was heading.

They went ahead a few yards along the sidewalk. Carla, in her impossible heels and a short, tight denim skirt. Sofía, in vinyl pants that outlined a round, firm ass. Diego and I walked behind them, quietly complimenting them, our heads spinning at full speed.

***

Their house was just a step away from the restaurant. We split between the sofa and two armchairs, and Sofía offered to make us drinks. I volunteered to go with her to the kitchen, after first throwing a conspiratorial look at the others.

The wine and the excitement pushed me on. I moved in behind her, very close, and held her by the hip under the pretext of making room. She didn’t move away. She only turned her neck and looked at me from the side.

—You’re shameless. Come on, don’t rush —she said, slipping away with a sway of her ass that left me worse off than before.

Having lost my first battle, with an erection I didn’t know where to put, we returned to the living room with two glasses each. What we found stopped us dead. Carla was sprawled on the sofa with her legs apart, kissing Diego, while his hand moved with no shame at all between her thighs. Neither of them made any move to stop when they saw us. Quite the opposite.

Sofía and I laughed, holding it in, still with our glasses in hand. I took a sip of mine and, without thinking any more about it, kissed her. She answered with her tongue, slowly, unhurriedly. There was no turning back now. Carla was moaning louder and louder, probably on purpose, so we’d all know how much she was enjoying it.

***

Sofía and I put our glasses down and went straight to her bedroom. We started kissing under the doorway, tearing at each other’s clothes without quite going all the way inside. Right there I slipped my fingers between her legs and couldn’t help whispering what I was thinking.

—I’ve been dying for this, you can’t imagine how much.

—I know —she answered, grabbing me by the nape—. Don’t stop.

I knew beforehand how she liked it, so I started nibbling her breasts while standing, my fingers playing with her. Her skin was hot and she breathed against my neck, holding on to the doorframe so she wouldn’t lose her balance. Sofía unbuttoned my pants and began to jerk me off with calculated slowness, measuring me, looking me in the eyes every time I closed mine. I got the feeling I was going to come at any moment, so I gently moved her hand away and turned her against the wall. I kissed her neck, the back of her neck, her shoulders, pinching one nipple with one hand while with the other I kept between her legs, feeling her open up for me little by little.

***

In the living room, Carla and Diego were still at it. From the sounds, she had knelt down and was taking him all the way into her mouth, playing in a way she would never allow herself at home. Then I heard her voice, hoarse, giving him an order.

—Fuck me.

Diego obeyed. Carla got on all fours on the sofa and he entered her from behind, tearing a long moan from her that echoed through the whole house. Years of pent-up desire were in every movement, bodies searching for each other, mouths meeting between thrusts. Diego didn’t last too long and finished on her back. But Carla wanted more. She turned around and asked him to start over.

***

Meanwhile, we were doing it on the bed, with Sofía on top of me, rocking slowly, deeply, with no urgency at all. Our hands were intertwined and there was between us a connection that seemed rehearsed in advance, as if we had spent our whole lives waiting for that night. She set the pace, rising and falling with half-closed eyes, biting her lip every time I touched her in exactly the right place. Every so often she leaned down to kiss me and I took the chance to hold her hips and drive deeper inside her, pulling from her a low sound I had never heard before and that stayed branded in my memory.

At one point I asked her to sit on my face. She agreed without hesitation and pressed herself against me, almost leaving me no room to breathe, moving her hips to her own rhythm. It was what I had been imagining for months and it turned out better than I expected. Meanwhile, her hand had found its way back and she was stroking me, bringing me to the edge in seconds. When I couldn’t take it anymore, she gathered up what was left with two fingers and brought it to her mouth before leaning down to kiss me.

***

Afterward we lay there naked, talking as if it were the most normal thing in the world. From the living room Carla’s moans were still coming through. Sofía kissed me again, softer this time, and rested her head on my chest.

—Do you think we’ll see each other like this again? —she asked after a while.

I didn’t answer her. I just smiled, and the two of us knew that this had not been the last time.