The First Night I Shared My Wife with Rubén

When I met Nadia, I was thirty-five and she was twenty-eight. She wasn't a little girl or an innocent, but she had that rare combination of naughty and shy that drove me wild. Short, with firm curves, huge tits that were impossible to hide beneath any T-shirt, and a round face with full lips that fooled everyone. People looked at her and underestimated her. I looked at her and knew that, in bed, she was something else.

A few months into our relationship, we started playing with fantasies during sex. At first, silly things: talking about an ex, imagining that someone was watching us through the window. Then, each week, things went a little further. One night, while I was fucking her from behind with her face pressed into the pillow, I whispered that my biggest fantasy was seeing her with another man. Watching her enjoy a cock that wasn't mine. Seeing her like a slut while I watched from a chair.

Nadia didn't answer right away. She lay still, pressing her ass against my hips, then let out a long moan and asked breathlessly, “Tell me more.” And I told her, without stopping fucking her, how I imagined her on her knees, how I'd watch her suck another man's cock, how I'd watch her spread her legs for a stranger. She came trembling, clutching the mattress with both hands. From that night on, whenever we fucked, she asked me to tell her. And she returned the favor with stories of her own past experiences: threesomes she'd had at university, a much older guy who'd fucked her on the sand of a beach. I listened to her with my cock hard as a rock.

But it was all talk. Nothing real. Until that night.

***

We'd been together for about four months when we threw a small party at my apartment. Nothing special: two lifelong friends of mine, Rubén and Damián, and the two of us. We had dinner out, then came back to keep drinking. I put on some music, lowered the lights, brought out another bottle, and made some ice. The two of them settled onto the big sofa. Nadia and I sat on the two-seater, pressed tightly together.

Rubén was the quiet one of the three. A big, dark-haired guy with broad hands. Damián was the talker, thinner, always with some joke ready to come out. They both knew Nadia was gorgeous. You could see it in their eyes every time she crossed her legs or bent down to pick up her glass from the coffee table.

Around three in the morning, after we'd laughed enough and the conversation had grown heavy, I grabbed Nadia by the nape of her neck and started kissing her. It wasn't a lovers' kiss. It was a long, tongue-filled kiss, biting her lip. She kissed me back at once and, without stopping devouring my mouth, ran her hand over my pants, right where my cock was already beginning to rise. She undid my fly and pulled it out, never taking her eyes off me, wearing that expression she got when she knew she was about to do something dirty.

I glanced over. Rubén and Damián were watching us in silence. Rubén held his glass halfway to his mouth. Damián's lips were parted. Neither of them was leaving. Neither pretended not to see. The party had stopped for them, and both had an obvious bulge pulling at their pants.

I spoke into Nadia's ear.

“Do you want us to let them play?”

She pulled away slightly, looked at me, looked at the cock I had out, and whispered against my mouth:

“With Rubén, yes. Not Damián. I don't like Damián.”

I listened to her. I toned things down, tucked myself away, and she adjusted her clothes. We started putting on faces that said we were about to go to sleep. It took Damián nearly an hour to get the hint. He was horny, wanted to stay, and kept making comments to push things along. But Nadia had been clear. When he finally grabbed his jacket and stood up, I almost hugged him in relief. Rubén remained seated, as if he had nowhere to be.

I walked Damián to the door. I shook his hand and locked it with two turns of the key. When I turned around, Nadia was no longer on the sofa where I'd left her.

“Go sit in the bathroom for a little while,” she told me from the hallway, her voice low, without looking at me.

I obeyed. I went into the bathroom, left the door half-closed, and listened. A few muffled laughs. A long silence. A short moan that raised goosebumps on my skin.

I came out slowly, without making a sound. When I reached the living room, I stopped dead in the doorway.

Nadia was straddling Rubén's thighs on the big sofa. Her hands were braced against his chest, and she was devouring his mouth with a fury I'd never seen in her before. Her tongue was visible. She bit his lips and went back to kissing him. Rubén, not daring to touch her completely, had one hand on her waist and the other lying at his side, as if he still didn't know whether he was allowed to.

He saw me. He stiffened nervously and pulled away two inches. Nadia took his face in both hands and brought him back to hers.

“You stay right there,” she told me, without taking her eyes off him. “This one's getting nervous.”

Then she took his hand and placed it on her tit, over her T-shirt. Rubén closed his eyes and squeezed. I sat in the armchair opposite them, my cock already rock-hard inside my jeans.

Nadia opened his pants without stopping her hips from moving over him. She slipped her hand inside his boxers, pulled out his cock, and looked at it for a second, almost smiling. Rubén's was thick. Thicker than mine, a little shorter. She wrapped her whole hand around it and began giving him a slow hand job, rotating her wrist the way she knew how.

“What a delicious cock you have,” she told him, her voice locked into a tone I knew perfectly.

That tone. That tone was mine. And she was using it with someone else.

She climbed off his lap. She knelt between Rubén's legs and pushed his knees apart to open him up better. Then, without any further ceremony, she took his cock into her mouth until she drove it down her throat and pulled a hoarse curse from him. She sucked it all the way, pulled it out with a wet pop, put it back in, licked his balls, then went back up to the tip. One hand kept stroking him while the other grabbed one of her tits beneath her T-shirt.

I opened my pants and started jerking off while watching her. I'd never seen her like that. Her cheeks hollowed when she sucked. I could hear the wet sounds, the saliva running down her chin to her cleavage. At one point she lifted her head and looked at me, her mouth full, and winked. That wink wrecked me more than anything else.

“Come fuck me,” she asked Rubén afterward, when she had him on the verge of coming. “On the sofa.”

She stood up, yanked off her T-shirt, and was left in her bra. She pulled her pants down to her ankles and kicked them aside. Then, as calmly as if she were alone in her own home, she lowered her panties. She was soaked. The glisten between her thighs was visible, as was the dark stain on the fabric of the panties lying on the floor.

She lay on her back on the sofa, spread her legs, and ordered Rubén:

“Eat me first.”

Rubén lunged at her like a dog. He buried his face between her legs and began licking her with his whole tongue. I could see the back of his neck moving up and down. Nadia let out a long moan, one of those it took me twenty minutes of work to draw out of her. She buried her nails in his hair, pressed his head against her pussy, and began moving her hips against his mouth.

“That's it, that's it, harder,” she told him. “Suck my clit, don't stop, harder.”

I jerked off faster and faster. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. The woman I slept beside every night, fucking another guy on my sofa, moaning things she never said to me. I was so turned on that I had to slow myself down to keep from coming first, sitting there without having touched her.

“Fuck me already, come on, I can't take it anymore,” Nadia begged after a few minutes, pulling his head upward.

Rubén stood up from the floor, grabbed his cock, hard as a rock, and shoved it inside her. He drove it all the way in at once. Nadia screamed. Not a moan—a real scream—and dug her nails into his shoulder. He started fucking her hard, without any gentle rhythm, driving his hips with the full weight of his body. The sofa moved against the wall. He grabbed one of her tits and squeezed it so hard that his fingers left marks on her skin.

“Look at him, look at him,” Nadia told me between moans, looking me in the eyes while Rubén pounded into her again and again. “He's filling you up, isn't he? Look how he fucks me. Look how he has me spread open. Tell me, do you like it?”

“Yes,” I answered, my voice broken, without stopping my hand on my cock.

“Say it louder.”

“I like it, Nadia. It turns me on to see you like this.”

She laughed with her mouth open and screamed again when Rubén changed his angle and started hitting her deeper. Rubén didn't last long. Four or five minutes of pounding her like an animal, and his face was already red. He pulled out, grabbed his cock, and came across her tits, thick spurts falling between her bra and her neck. Nadia stayed there, panting, for a second, the cum on her, watching it run. Then she dipped in a finger, picked up some, put it in her mouth, and looked at me while she licked it off.

She got off the sofa as if nothing had happened, wiped herself with a napkin from the table, and walked naked toward where I was sitting. Her stained bra hung from one strap.

“You're not going to spend all night watching,” she told me.

She pulled me up from the armchair by the hand. She got on all fours on the rug, ass raised, facing Rubén. Rubén, his cock still out and already beginning to soften, stared at her from the sofa as if he'd seen a ghost. I knelt behind her. I slipped inside her easily. She was hot, soaked, slippery inside. I grabbed her by the waist and started fucking her just as he had, without holding back, with all the strength I had.

“Put it in my mouth, come on,” Nadia asked Rubén, without stopping taking me from behind. “You've still got it half-hard.”

Rubén tried. He stood and approached her face. She opened her mouth and sucked him again for a while as I kept pounding her from behind. But the poor guy had lost his momentum, and within a few minutes he had nothing left and sat down on the sofa again. He stayed there, breathing hard, watching us, his cock still hanging out of his pants.

I kept fucking her. I lost track of time. We changed positions several times. I put her against the sofa, her face pressed into the backrest, and split her ass from above. I straddled her, with her riding me face-to-face, gripping my shoulders, her breasts bouncing at a desperate pace. I laid her on her back, put her ankles over my shoulders, and drove into her all the way until she screamed again.

I grabbed her by the hair and whispered in her ear everything that had turned me on about watching her. I described her open mouth, the saliva hanging from it, the moment she had pulled down her own panties. I asked her how Rubén's cock felt compared to mine. She told me the truth, her voice broken by the thrusts of my hips:

“Different. Thicker. But I like yours better, because you know how to move it.”

She said it while looking at me, ten centimeters from my face, squeezing her pussy around my cock. I came inside her without pulling out, gripping her tits and biting her shoulder while she came again, moaning senseless things against my neck.

We stayed like that for a few seconds, locked together, breathing. I heard the sofa creak. Rubén had stood up and was silently readjusting his clothes.

He left around six in the morning without saying much, a little dazed. I shook his hand at the door, and neither of us said a word about what had just happened. I locked it again. I went back to the living room. Nadia was naked on the sofa, wrapped in a blanket, smoking a cigarette I hadn't even known she had hidden in her purse.

“Well?” she said, without quite looking at me. “Was it like you'd imagined?”

“Better,” I answered.

She thought for a second. Then she looked at me with that new little smile that had appeared that night, the one I still didn't know.

“Well,” she said, “then we're going to have to find more. And better ones.”

That early morning was only the beginning. Neither of us yet knew how far we were going to go in the months that followed. But I went to bed knowing two things for certain: that she'd been waiting for that night far longer than I'd thought, and that the woman I'd started dating wasn't exactly the same woman who slept beside me.