The Invitation from the Two Friends That Wasn’t Just for a Drink

I met Mateo almost a year ago in a bar downtown, one of those places with low lights where the music barely lets you hear your own voice. He was tall and dark-haired, with broad shoulders outlined beneath a tight black T-shirt, and veins that stood out on his forearms every time he squeezed the bottle. When I approached the bar to order a mojito, he looked me up and down shamelessly and threw out a line I still remember word for word.

—If you keep moving like that in those jeans, I’m going to have to invite you to something more than a drink.

I laughed, but felt the heat climb up my neck to my ears. I returned his look, and something in his dark eyes told me that man was used to getting whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it.

I met Iván that same night, half an hour later. He was Mateo’s best friend, slimmer but toned, with lighter skin, tousled black hair, and green eyes that seemed to make fun of everything. He had a restless mouth, always on the verge of saying something outrageous. When he shook my hand, he held it a second too long and brushed my pulse with his thumb, staring straight at me.

—Camila, right? Mateo hasn’t stopped talking to me about you… now I understand why.

After that night, the three of us saw each other many times. At mutual friends’ birthdays, in bars, at a couple of barbecues at people’s houses I don’t even remember. And always the same game: the two of them flirting shamelessly, hands brushing my waist “accidentally,” comments about how good a skirt looked on me, midnight messages with pictures of them at the gym or on the beach and lines like “we want to see you here, between us.”

—One day we’re going to have you, gorgeous —Mateo wrote to me one night, when he already knew I was alone in bed.

—And it won’t be to talk —Iván added in a separate message, a minute later.

I played along with fire emojis and laughter, but inside I imagined the scene again and again, and got wet just thinking about it. I had never said yes to them, but I hadn’t said no either. And they knew it.

That Saturday, when they both texted me at the same time asking me to join them for a few drinks, I already knew what I was going for. And so did they.

***

I arrived at the bar around ten, wearing black skinny jeans that outlined my legs and ass, a low-cut black blouse showing the tops of my tits, my hair loose down my back, and dark red lipstick. I knew perfectly well what I was doing when I got dressed in front of the mirror.

They were already waiting for me at a table in the back. Mateo wore a gray T-shirt stretched over his defined chest, dark jeans, and a slow smile that appeared the moment he saw me walk through the door. Iván had on a white shirt with the first two buttons undone, revealing the beginning of a firm chest, and tight pants that left no doubt about what he had between his legs.

They sat me between them without asking. From the first drink, the coordinated attack began.

Mateo’s big, hot hand settled on my right thigh as soon as I got comfortable. It moved slowly upward, his palm open, until it brushed the inner seam of my jeans. Iván draped an arm over my shoulders and began playing with my hair, his fingers occasionally dropping to brush the side of my breast “casually,” as if he didn’t know what he was doing. Every time I laughed, every time I turned my head, one of them had his mouth an inch from my ear.

I wasn’t sitting still either. I squeezed Mateo’s bicep and felt the hard muscle beneath his shirt. I ran my hand along Iván’s thigh, up to the edge of his bulge, and felt him harden instantly. We looked each other in the eyes while talking about any stupid thing, but the air was so charged you could cut it with a knife.

By the third drink, Mateo leaned in and spoke softly, his hot breath against my neck.

—We’re going to our apartment. Iván and I live together now. And we want you there. Now.

Iván kissed my temple and added, almost in a whisper.

—You’ve been getting us hard all night. It’s time you let us do what we’ve been imagining for months.

I said nothing. I just nodded, biting my lip, and finished my drink in one swallow.

***

In the Uber, I sat in the middle. The driver, a man around fifty, barely glanced at us in the rearview mirror when he pulled away. Then he pretended to concentrate on the road, but adjusted the mirror every so often and breathed more heavily than normal. He knew perfectly well what was happening in the back seat.

As soon as we turned the first corner, the hands came all over me. Mateo began kissing my neck, his warm tongue tracing the line of my collarbone, while his hand slipped inside my jeans and his thick fingers brushed the edge of my thong. I was already soaking wet. When he noticed, he growled softly against my skin.

—You’re soaking wet, Camila. And we haven’t even started.

Iván grabbed my hand and took it straight to his crotch. His cock felt hard as stone beneath the fabric. I began stroking him slowly, tracing his shape with my fingers, feeling every vein and every pulse. At the same time, Mateo slipped two fingers beneath my thong and began rubbing my clit in slow, deep circles. I bit Iván’s shoulder to keep from moaning loudly and laughed against his skin, half-drunk and incredibly horny.

The driver coughed once, adjusted the rearview mirror again, and didn’t say a word. Neither did I. I just spread my legs a little farther and let Mateo do whatever he wanted to me.

***

We got into the building’s elevator like animals set loose. Mateo shoved me against the back mirror, grabbed my tits with both hands over my blouse, and began squeezing my nipples until they grew hard as stones through the fabric. He kissed me with deep tongue, and I bit it.

Iván moved behind me. He pulled my jeans down to mid-thigh, slipped one hand between my buttocks, and began massaging my ass while biting my shoulder and neck. He brought his other hand around in front, buried it between my legs, pulled it out shining, and took it to Mateo’s mouth. Mateo sucked my wet fingers while keeping his eyes fixed on mine.

—Wait until we get to the bedroom —Mateo told me—. That’s where we’ll fuck you properly.

The elevator chimed. We lunged into the hallway, nearly falling over one another.

***

The moment we crossed the apartment door, every restraint disappeared.

They took off my blouse between them, practically ripping it off. Mateo pulled my jeans down with both hands while Iván held me by the waist. My thong fell to the floor. I was left naked in the middle of the living room, my skin prickling, my firm tits bouncing with every ragged breath, my round, high ass, my shaved pussy gleaming with how wet I was.

Mateo sat on the couch and unzipped his jeans. His cock sprang free: thick, veiny, its shiny head already dripping. He grabbed me by the waist and sat me astride him. He guided me slowly with his hand, and I let myself drop onto him in one movement, all the way down. I screamed. My back arched on its own. He filled me completely.

—Fuck, you’re so tight —he muttered, squeezing my ass cheeks with both hands—. Ride me like that.

I began moving on top of him, slowly at first, then harder, feeling him open me completely with every downward thrust. Iván came up behind me. He knelt between our legs and began kissing my back, licking down my spine until he spread my buttocks with both hands and ran his tongue over my ass while Mateo kept thrusting up into me. The sensation was devastating. One dirty word after another escaped me.

—Keep going… like that… don’t stop…

Then they began switching positions. Iván turned me around and laid me on my back across the couch, my legs spread wide, and lowered his mouth straight to my pussy. He began eating me with a long, expert tongue, sucking my clit with his lips and pushing in two fingers, curling them inside me with every thrust. Mateo stood beside my face, his cock wet with my own juices, and put it in my mouth. I grabbed it with both hands and began sucking him deeply, feeling him push slowly toward my throat.

—That’s it, gorgeous. Swallow it all —he told me, gripping my hair in his closed fist—. All of it for you.

I moaned with his cock inside me, the vibrations against his shaft while Iván ate my pussy as if his life depended on it. I felt the first orgasm building quickly. My thighs trembled, my stomach clenched, and I came screaming around Mateo’s cock, my face drenched in saliva and sweat.

But they weren’t finished. Not even close.

Iván stood up and turned me around again, this time onto my knees on the couch, my ass raised and my hands braced against the backrest. He positioned himself behind me, gripped his cock, and slowly ran it along my crack, wetting it with my own juices. He pushed carefully, giving me time. I clenched my teeth and opened myself for him. When the head entered my ass, I exhaled all the air from my lungs at once. When I felt him fully inside me, I moaned like I never had in my life.

—Open up for me, Camila. All the way —he said, stroking my back.

Mateo planted himself in front of me, sat on the edge of the couch, and put his cock in my mouth again. They both began moving out of sync. When one went in, the other came out. When one thrust hard, the other held my face to fuck my mouth slowly, looking me in the eyes. I was the midpoint between them, being penetrated, taken completely, no longer knowing which side each moan came from.

—Look at her, brother —Iván said, squeezing my hips with both hands—. She’s everything we imagined.

—And more —Mateo replied, his hand closed around my jaw.

I felt the second one coming. This one was different: longer, deeper, starting in my belly and rising all the way up my spine. I trembled from head to toe, squeezing them with my whole body, my ass clenching around Iván’s cock, my mouth milking Mateo’s. I screamed something I didn’t even understand.

That was when they finished.

Mateo pulled his cock from my mouth just in time and came over my tits and belly, hot jets drawing a line from my neck to my navel. Iván buried himself to the hilt and came inside me with a growl from deep in his gut, squeezing my hips until his fingers dug into my skin. I felt the warmth spreading inside me and shuddered once more, still with my mouth open and my hair stuck to my face.

We stayed like that for a few seconds, breathing heavily, the three of us leaning against one another. Iván pulled out slowly. Mateo wiped my belly with the back of his hand and chuckled softly. I let myself collapse between them, my skin shining with sweat and their fluids, with no desire ever to move again.

—This isn’t over here, is it? —I whispered, my voice hoarse.

Mateo ran his hand through my hair and kissed my temple.

—This is only the beginning, Camila.

Iván chuckled softly against my neck.

—We’d been imagining it for months. We’re not going to let you go that easily.

And that night, from the bar to the apartment, wasn’t the end of anything. It was the beginning of something none of the three of us would ever want to end.