The Neighbor, the Threesome, and My Open Marriage

A friend, one of the many I have, opened up to me some time ago and confirmed something I had been suspecting. She told me she was bisexual and that she and her husband had had an open relationship from the start, and that it worked out well in every sense: as a marriage and in bed. What follows is her story, told exactly as she gave it to me that afternoon.

When I married Martín, he slowly started letting me in on his fantasies. He did it patiently, almost without my realizing it. Every time we watched a movie, he’d ask me what I liked and what I didn’t, what made me curious, how far I’d go.

That’s how one particular fantasy took shape inside my own head: finding out what it felt like to be with another woman. Back then there were no dating portals. You could barely get hold of a few adult magazines, and finding a woman willing to do it wasn’t easy. The idea turned me on from the inside out, but I still wasn’t ready, and Martín, on top of that, wanted me to sleep with every acquaintance who happened to come near us. While we searched for the right woman for our private party, we kept ourselves entertained with movies and dirty talk during sex.

***

In the apartment across from ours lived a separated mother with three children. The oldest, already a fully grown woman, was the one holding the household together: taking care of her siblings and, why not, her mother too. Her name was Camila, and her mother’s was Silvia.

Silvia was thirty-eight; I was thirty, just turned. She lived like she was twenty, going out everywhere without caring how her children were left. More than once, while she was out partying, Camila would show up at my door because her little sister had a fever.

With Camila, a special bond developed. Since Martín and I were in a good financial position, one day I offered that if she wanted to make a few pesos, she could help me with the cleaning. That’s how she started coming by. One afternoon, when she walked in, I found her on my bed paging through one of those magazines we had carelessly left under the mattress. She turned red, but I calmed her down right away.

—Don’t worry about it, Cami. It’s my fault for leaving that out in the open.

She looked at me, smiled, and went back home. The situation caught my attention, but I pushed it out of my mind. I can’t be thinking this, I told myself. I didn’t mention anything to Martín; he’d get hung up on it, like every man.

***

A week later, she came right out and asked me.

—Lore, can I borrow the magazine you have? I want to look at it спокойно.

—Which one did you see? I don’t remember.

Lowering her voice, with obvious embarrassment, she answered:

—Any one with two women doing something.

I froze. She wasn’t underage, but her mother was involved and I didn’t want trouble.

—In the last drawer of the wardrobe there are lots of them. Look at them whenever you want, but here, when I’m not around. No one will know anyway.

The girl was making the first move on me, I thought. I was a liberal woman, out and proud, and suddenly I couldn’t tell whether it was her playing around or whether she had far more experience than I imagined.

To clear up my doubts, I used a silicone dildo Martín had brought me from a trip. I left it in the drawer, in a very specific position, to see if Camila would touch it. Days later, it had been moved. To avoid making a fool of myself, I asked Martín about it; he said he had no idea, that I must have put it away. Goal from midfield. If he didn’t know, the girl had used it.

***

One summer night, while I was ironing, Camila knocked on the door because she couldn’t sleep from the heat and I had air conditioning. We talked for a while and then, all of a sudden, she dropped the bomb.

—I have to confess something. I started looking through your magazines and got so turned on that I used your dildo. There’s something about this house that always gets me hot. I hope you’re not mad.

—Not at all. You’ve surprised me, but everything’s fine.

That was the perfect moment to speak more intimately. I asked her about her sex life and she told me she had tried everything, but now she couldn’t come when she masturbated. I went into teacher mode.

—One day you should show me how you do it and I’ll explain it to you. I’m addicted to masturbating when Martín isn’t here.

She, very quick on the uptake, cut me off:

—Why don’t you show me? We could take advantage of the fact that I’m horny right now.

***

Martín was asleep in the bedroom and I had the girl hot and bothered in the living room. I sat there watching and she had no problem getting naked. She started touching herself, but supposedly couldn’t get there, so she asked me to get comfortable and show her while she watched.

I was already fucked. I took everything off and, in front of me, Camila’s eyes were fixed on the way I masturbated. At one point she came closer and what had to happen happened: she started running her tongue over the lips of my cunt. I didn’t even take two seconds to finish. She was licking me like the best actress in a porno film. I was having my first bisexual experience, with a girl ten years younger than me.

We fucked ourselves senseless in the living room of my own apartment. I didn’t know if I was doing right or wrong: my husband asleep and me fucking a woman. But I kept convincing myself: it’s what he wanted. That’s when I found out it wasn’t her first time with a woman, that I had turned her on from the start and she hadn’t dared tell me. No one had ever sucked me that well.

That first time opened the door to others, days later, when Martín wasn’t home: we used the dildo, our mouths, our breasts. Camila had a monumental body and lost her mind when she got aroused. But now my dilemma appeared: this girl had me dominated, and I needed to turn the game around to fulfill Martín’s fantasy, the three of us in one bed.

***

Camila came by at any hour, especially in the afternoon nap, when Martín was never there. Afterward, though, I’d feel guilty. Not for what I was doing, but for hiding something from Martín. But I always ended up telling myself the same thing: all for a good party with the man I love.

One afternoon Silvia knocked on my door, with a face that made me think the worst. It was the opposite: she asked me to look after the kids that night because she was going out with a friend. And, before leaving, she blurted out:

—I love the way you scream when Martín fucks you. More than once I heard you with the window open, and last week it turned me on so much I ended up masturbating.

Half stunned, I told her I was glad. On one side, the daughter; now, the mother. That conversation opened up a more direct dialogue between us, although I never wanted to dig deeper: I was afraid that if she found out about Camila, everything would go to hell.

***

My next job was to wake up Martín’s appetite for the girl, but it wasn’t easy: the way he looked at her, he knew I didn’t desire her. One day I floated the idea to Camila.

—I’d like to do it with you and Martín.

She didn’t like that one bit.

—No way in hell am I letting your husband touch me. I like men, I like big cocks, but him, to me, he’s like a father or an uncle.

—Don’t look at it that way. You have no idea the things the three of us could do. For me it wouldn’t be cheating: I’d be making our relationship official, and then we’d handle it however we wanted.

No chance. Her refusal was firm. I had to find another way to pull her away from her principles. The next day she came by for the afternoon nap and I paid her no attention; I told her I was tired. That went on for nearly a week. The following Monday she changed her tune.

—What’s wrong with you that you’re not paying me any attention anymore?

You took the bait, I told myself.

—I didn’t like what you said about Martín. I see it differently: being able to give ourselves pleasure, the three of us, without ties. So I decided, for now, not to have anything else with you.

—That’s your decision. Your loss.

She spun around and left. Shit, I got hotter from her answer than from everything else. The girl had gotten cocky, but I swallowed my pride and promised myself I wouldn’t give in.

***

Since it was the middle of summer, Martín and I decided to go to a nearby beach. And the idiot couldn’t think of a better idea than bumping into Camila on the sidewalk and inviting her along. She accepted, but first she came looking for me.

—I’ll go, but let me ask you something: does Martín know anything about us?

—No, I never told him anything. Do you want me to get killed for being an idiot?

The three of us drove there together, laughing. Me, expectant. The apartment we rented had two bedrooms. We covered all the expenses, she was a luxury guest. That said, Martín had the slightest idea of my intentions. The first night was normal. In the morning we went down to the beach, and there the girl let it out without a problem:

—Martín, will you put sunscreen on my back? And on my legs too—wait, I’ll take off my sarong.

Underneath, she had on a tiny white bikini that looked fucking amazing on her. Martín was surprised and told her how good it looked on her. Well, I thought, not everything bad is so bad: at last I’m waking him up, he’s no longer looking at her like the girl next door, but like a woman. Even so, the feeling was still strange: in this cat-and-mouse game, I was no longer the cat.

***

That night we thought about going to the casino. While Camila was showering, Martín told me he hadn’t paid her any attention and that the little neighbor had gotten herself all worked up. I answered that I had already noticed from his eyes. Right then, she shouted from the bathroom for me to bring her the towel.

—Close the door. Look at me.

The bitch was masturbating, with two fingers inside herself.

—I’m so fucking horny. Come on, get in, let’s shower together. I know you want to.

—Have you lost your mind? Not here, not now, Martín’s outside.

—Let’s make it easy: either you come in, or tonight I’m going to fuck your husband.

—Oh, fine. Go on, I’d like to see you.

As I said it, I was thinking: liar. And I felt a chill down my back, a mix of jealousy and rage. What the hell is happening to me? I didn’t recognize myself. Me, the most liberal woman. I said nothing and walked out of the bathroom with my head spinning. I lied to Martín that my blood pressure had dropped from the heat, and threw myself onto the bed.

When I woke up, he was fanning me with a magazine and Camila, beside me, was asking if I was okay. When she got up, I don’t know if it was on purpose—I think it was—her knee came loose and undid the only thing covering her, and she ended up naked in front of both of us. Martín looked at her without saying a word. She, very casual, said she was going to change and walked out of the room without covering herself, showing everything. Martín never took his eyes off her ass, with the bikini marks between her cheeks. It’s my husband’s weak spot; that drives him crazy.

***

We went to the casino, won some money, and the three of us drank as much as we could. On the way back a storm was coming in. I was turned on by the champagne and wanted sex no matter the cost; Martín, because of the alcohol and Camila’s show, did too.

Already in bed, the thunder started rolling. Martín, rock hard, was sucking one of my breasts when the door suddenly opened. We barely had time to cover ourselves.

—I’m scared of thunder since I was little. Can I sleep with you?

You can’t imagine the look of annoyance on Martín’s face. But the mess had already been made: I was naked, he was hard, and she was wearing a tiny nightgown, without a bra. I was stuck in the middle. It didn’t take long before I felt a hand touching one breast and sliding down to my cunt, already wet. I couldn’t do anything but open my legs. I turned over, gave Camila my ass side, and without thinking, grabbed Martín’s cock and started stroking it. He noticed something was going on; he didn’t say a word, but he got rock hard. Until I felt her lips on my mouth.

—Don’t say anything. Just let go —I told Martín.

He turned over like a whirlwind and started getting his hands everywhere, on me and on Camila. She had already gone down on me and he was putting his cock in my mouth. How easy it had been, I thought. It was a night of frenzy: Camila helped me suck Martín off, he did everything with her, and the climax was when he came and the two of us passed his cum from mouth to mouth.

In the morning, instead of guilt, I found the opposite: she was between the two of us, pampered like a little girl.

—Martín, did you see what I told you on the beach? This was the gift I wanted to give you, for how you are with me.

We spent those three days fucking wherever there was room and desire. I fulfilled my husband’s dream and, as a bonus, I made the situation official.

***

Then we went back home, to routine. With Camila everything was still great, but our encounters became more spaced out because of responsibilities and exhaustion. I, too, wanted to take a break: I had a marriage and a life ahead of me; it wasn’t all partying and sex. I mentioned it to her and she understood perfectly; she didn’t want to interfere in our married life. That relieved me: she wasn’t a rival, but a friend who knew where the line was. Just one more time we had anything together, one night when Martín went fishing, and she confessed that she had a much better time when we were alone.

***

Martín and I kept feeding our fantasies. Among the options was adding a third person, though it wasn’t easy in the city we lived in: secrecy was essential. One day he told me he’d like me to have something all to myself, a party, and then we’d get each other turned on by talking about it. The request surprised me, but in a moment of arousal everything is allowed.

That’s where Silvia comes back in. A family friend had arrived from Italy and she wanted to take him out to a club. The Italian was my age, ordinary but very nice, and spoke Spanish almost perfectly. Since Martín was away and I was bored, I agreed to go with them.

Marco, that was his name, was cheerful and made me laugh. We drank champagne nonstop and, before I knew it, I was pretty drunk. Silvia and her boyfriend kept groping each other beside us, and the bubbles, added to the show, were turning me on. When it ended, Silvia’s boyfriend invited us to his apartment. I was more in the mood to sleep, but Marco insisted so much that I ended up going.

***

The host opened another bottle. Silvia teased me: just imagine if Martín finds out. And that’s when it hit me that I hadn’t even remembered him once all night. I felt bad for a moment, but it passed quickly. Without beating around the bush, Silvia started pawing at her boyfriend, until she pulled Bruno’s cock out and shoved it in her mouth in front of everyone. The show turned anybody on.

Then I felt Marco’s hand sliding up my legs. Hot as I was, I don’t know how it started, but by the time I realized it my pants were down and his mouth was between my thighs. I was in the arms of another man who was not my husband. I let myself go. He put his cock in my mouth —a much thicker piece of equipment than Martín’s— and I savored it. At one point I asked him to fuck me; I couldn’t take it anymore.

Silvia, seeing the scene, came over and kissed me on the mouth.

—You have no idea how grateful I am for this.

And she latched onto one of my breasts. Where there’s the mother, there’s the daughter, I thought between moans. I ended up wrapped up in a little orgy: she was sucking Marco’s cock, Bruno was sucking me, and the three of them fucked me every which way they could. I was, once again, the woman there to please. Marco gave me his best load in the mouth, which I immediately passed on to Silvia.

***

When Martín came back, this time I had to tell him: my marriage was on the line. And the son of a bitch got insanely turned on, making me tell him every detail. Then he admitted he wanted a party with Silvia. I told him to ask her himself, that I wasn’t going to stick my neck out.

One morning, while driving her to work, Silvia broke the ice.

—What a nice time we had the other day. I never imagined you were that horny. I had some idea from Camila.

—Sorry... what did Camila tell you?

—Honey, I know the whole story. Don’t worry, everything’s fine. She’s grown and knows what she wants. With what she told me, I kind of set up the other day on purpose: I figured you’d be into it, knowing Marco had wanted you since he first saw you.

In the end, both mother and daughter had surprised me from top to bottom.

***

With Silvia we had another party or two, this time with Martín and some boyfriend she brought along. With Camila we also did it again, though more sporadically. And Martín and I ended up opening the relationship completely. We don’t have much time, but at least once a month each of us gives ourselves permission to sleep with someone else: some woman, in his case; some man or woman, in mine. It gives the relationship a different flavor and, above all, lets us break out of that damn routine.

After many years of marriage, I can say it was the best thing that could have happened to us. We’re still together and, to be honest, we’re better than ever.