The Night My Husband Shared Me in the Palace

We had been fantasizing about this for years, but we never had the nerve to cross the line. Adrián and I are that couple who by day sign contracts in glass offices and by night whisper the darkest desires into each other’s ears. A perfect life on the outside, a volcano held in check on the inside.

—Imagine me surrounded by men, love —I would murmur in bed, my hand sliding down his belly—. Imagine them touching me while you watch from a corner.

—Come back to me dripping wet —he would answer, his voice rough, his fingers sinking between my thighs—. Come back to me and let me claim you.

We said it in whispers for years, never daring to give it shape. Until the envelope arrived.

It was black, sealed with red wax, with a coded password on the back: “Vesperum.” The instructions were precise: formal attire, Venetian mask, vow of absolute silence. The destination: the Palace of Albamar, on the outskirts of Mérida, a colonial building with thick walls where a closed society held its rituals.

***

I dressed in front of the bedroom mirror, my heart in my throat. I chose a black semi-sheer dress that clung to my curves like a second skin. The fabric hinted at the outline of my firm breasts, the nipples showing through at the cold touch of the air. The slit rose to my right hip and revealed my entire thigh every time I took a step.

I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. My shaved sex brushed the inner lining with an anticipatory dampness, sending hot jolts to my belly. I smelled of my jasmine cream mixed with the thin sweat of nerves.

Adrián came in wearing an immaculate black tuxedo, his erection already outlining itself under his trousers. He wrapped his arms around me from behind and slid his hand through the opening in the dress until he felt the warm mess between my legs.

—You’re already soaking, my love —he murmured against my neck.

—What if I get lost in the pleasure? What if jealousy burns you? —I asked, turning to kiss him, my hand closing around the hardness waiting for me beneath the fabric.

—It’s not jealousy —he replied—. It’s fire. I want to see you free, moaning like never before. But in the end, you come back to me.

We couldn’t wait. He shoved me against the wall, lifted my dress, and took me standing, one single deep thrust that made me bite his shoulder to keep from screaming. It was quick, brutal, a way of marking me before we left. When I came, I felt him spill inside me, and I knew that first mark was only the beginning.

***

The Palace of Albamar rose out of the warm night like a sleeping animal, its whitewashed walls lit by torches crackling with dry heat. The air smelled of salt, old stone, and the promise of something we would not be able to undo.

We stepped out of the car wearing our masks. Mine was gold, with feathers brushing my cheeks; his was silver and understated, hiding everything except the firm line of his jaw. A guide waited for us beneath the entrance arch, dressed all in black, tall, with a deep voice that seemed to come from the stone itself.

—State the password.

—Vesperum —we said in unison.

He led us through low-ceilinged corridors, cold tiled floors repeating the click-clack of my heels. Candles in alcoves flickered over spilled wax, and a haze of sandalwood incense mingled with the low music —violins, a slow piano— that seemed to come from everywhere. I felt the dress brush my bare thighs and my pulse hammering between my legs like an echo of the piano.

We reached the main hall: high ceilings with dark beams, crystal chandeliers dripping golden light over a mosaic floor. Other masked guests formed a circle around a low altar covered with red velvet cushions. Men in tuxedos, women in impossible dresses that showed too much skin to be innocent.

They placed us in the center. The guide wound a light chain of scarlet silk around us while reciting the oath.

—Loyalty to shared pleasure. Eternal anonymity. No identities, no details. Touch the chain and seal it with a kiss.

I laid my fingers on the silk and kissed Adrián beneath the shadow of our masks. His tongue tasted of salt and desire. His hand moved discreetly down my back to squeeze the curve of my ass, and I felt wetness sliding down my inner thigh.

—Tonight —the guide whispered near my ear— you will explore your limits. There will be separation. The club sets the pace.

Fear slashed through me like a whip, but my dirty curiosity crushed it at once. We toasted with a dense, spicy red elixir that burned my throat and warmed my belly.

***

The party unfurled through the interconnected rooms of the palace. A low artificial haze, bluish, floated at knee height. The lights were amber, almost liquid. Adrián took me to the ballroom with his hand firm at the base of my back.

—Dance with me, my wife —he said, turning me slowly.

I felt his erection against my belly, his lips nibbling at my ear. I arched my back so my breasts flattened against his chest. I don’t want this moment to end, I thought, and immediately knew I was lying.

A tall man with a gold mask and dark feathers approached. His voice was hoarse, his scent wood and tobacco.

—May I have a dance with your goddess?

Adrián nodded with a tight smile, his hand squeezing my ass one last time before letting go.

—She’s mine —he warned him—. Remember that.

The stranger led me to the center of the floor. His hands were large and precise, and from the very first turn I felt his hardness pressing against the curve of my hip. His fingers slid up the slit in my dress, brushing the inner side of my thigh, never quite touching me. I let him. I closed my eyes for a second and the air in the room seemed thicker.

—Your skin is burning —he whispered against my neck.

—And you harden me just by brushing against me —I replied.

A woman with a silver-feathered mask joined us. Her dress was almost a web. She took my other hand and pressed herself to my back while he held me from the front. I was trapped between the two of them, her floral perfume at my nape, her breath sliding down my spine. A waiter passed with glasses. We drank. The elixir went down like sweet fire.

She kissed my neck. He squeezed my ass. His fingers slipped through the opening and brushed my wetness without asking permission. I moaned softly, almost silently. He’s watching. Adrián is watching. I looked for him and found him against a column, the glass still in his hand and his jaw clenched. I couldn’t tell whether what burned in his gaze was jealousy or pride, and for the first time I understood that it didn’t matter to separate them.

***

The guide reappeared in the middle of the hall.

—Time for the separation.

They led me down a narrow corridor to a smaller chamber, with soft cushions on the floor and candles on the walls. Three masked figures were waiting for me. The air felt dense, almost solid. I heard the door close behind me.

They laid me out on the cushions. They lifted the hem of my dress with ritual calm, exposing my swollen, shining sex to the candlelight. A hot tongue slid between my lips and began tracing slow circles over my clit. Other hands kneaded my breasts over the fabric, pinching my nipples through the dress. I arched my back and let out the first loud moan of the night.

—Open your mouth —another voice said, and two thick fingers entered between my lips.

I sucked them as I was told. Another man positioned himself behind me and slowly pushed a thick cock all the way inside. I felt the stretch, the slow pounding, my whole body opening. The thrusts began in rhythm, each one pulling a new moan from me. The woman licked one of my nipples, the first man’s tongue stayed buried in my clit. Not a single part of my body was untouched.

I came screaming, a deep contraction that shook me from my back to my knees. And then came the rotations, cocks going in and out, hands turning me, tongues licking the sweat from my neck, obscene whispers against my ear. I thought I saw, through a slit in the wall, a silver mask standing motionless on the other side. He’s watching. He’s watching everything. The idea drove me into a second orgasm, harder, dirtier, while another man’s cock emptied inside me.

They put me on all fours. Another woman came to my face and lowered her wet sex over my mouth; I licked her hungrily, feeling her tremble against my tongue while a stranger fucked me from behind. When I came for the third time, my legs could no longer hold me, and I collapsed onto the cushions with my breathing shattered and my thighs shining with my own juices and other people’s.

***

I met Adrián again in a private room at the end of the corridor. The masks had slipped partway, tilted. His face was marked by desire and by something else, an emotion I couldn’t name. He smelled of someone else’s sex, I knew it. And yet he pulled me against him as if he had been waiting his whole life to touch me again.

—Did you enjoy yourself, love? —he asked, his voice breaking at the edges.

—Very much. Seeing you —or believing I saw you— in the shadows while they used me made me come like never before. But I missed you too. And you?

—I saw everything. Every moan. Every time you arched your back. When they fucked you from behind and you squirted, I thought my heart was going to stop. —He paused, and his voice broke even more—. It hurt in my chest, but it made me so hard I could barely stand.

—Tell me.

—I watched you open up for them, watched them lick you, watched you moaning “more, more.” And every time your body tightened, I felt two things at once: the rage that you weren’t mine alone that night, and the brutal pride that you are mine always. I masturbated slowly in the corridor, watching you through the crack, and I held back. I didn’t want to come there. I wanted to save it all to claim you.

His words soaked me more than the hands of any stranger ever could. He kissed me fiercely, his tongue sweeping away any trace of anyone else, his hands tearing away what was left of the dress. He lifted me against the wall and entered me in one hard stroke. I felt my sex, still hot, still swollen, close around his cock as if it had never known anything else.

—This is mine —he growled into my ear, pounding deep, his balls slapping my ass in a rapid rhythm—. Your pussy, your mouth, your screams. Mine.

—Yes, my love —I answered between moans—. I’m yours. Just because they saw me come doesn’t change anything. Only you mark me like this.

He spanked my ass with his open palm, once, twice, three times, while the rhythm quickened. I dug my nails into his back and felt the orgasm hit me like a wave that wouldn’t let me breathe. He came inside me, hot, abundant, and I squirted around his cock, streams sliding down his thighs. We collapsed panting, sweaty, wrapped around each other, our hearts racing against both chests.

—I love you too much, my woman —he whispered.

—I love you too —I replied, and the silence that followed was the most intimate thing of the night.

***

In the car back to the hotel, dawn was starting to tint the horizon pink. I slid my hand down to his crotch, feeling him stir again beneath his trousers.

—Do we accept the membership? —I asked.

He smiled beneath the mask he was still holding in his other hand.

—If it promises more rituals like this, yes.

In the hotel room we made love again slowly. His tongue between my thighs, my mouth around his cock, bodies that knew each other by memory but now carried the echo of чужие hands. We came together once more, and I understood that what we had shared that night was not our bodies, but the trust not to break ourselves while doing it.

We held each other until the sun came fully through the window. And while he fell asleep with his face buried in my neck, I thought of the black wax-sealed envelope, the silk chain, that silver mask standing motionless on the other side of the wall, and I knew we were going to return.