The Night the Three of Them Claimed Me in the Pool

Night fell over Valencia with that humid languor of summers by the sea. From the suite terrace, the city lights trembled across the surface of the private pool, and every reflection seemed to move to the rhythm of what was about to happen. I was wearing the black bikini they had asked me to put on that same afternoon, by message, like an order disguised as a favor.

It was barely two triangles of fabric and a thin strap tied at the back. The high-heeled sandals made every step echo against the wet tiles. I stopped for a moment at the edge of the water, feeling the warm air raise goosebumps on my skin, and I knew there was no turning back now.

Mateo was sitting on the submerged step, water at waist level. His light eyes followed me the moment I appeared, and I recognized that look: the same one from that afternoon, weeks earlier, when it had all begun between the two of us. This time, however, we were not alone.

—You’re late —he said, with a half smile.

—I wanted you to wait for me —I replied.

Bruno appeared from behind before I finished the sentence. I sensed him through the heat of his body and through the fingers that brushed my waist, tracing a slow line down to my hip. He was the most physical of the three, all shoulders and big hands, and his breath against the nape of my neck sent a shiver through me that I couldn’t hide.

—We were describing you to Damián —he murmured—. He didn’t believe us.

Damián was the guest that night, the only one I didn’t know. He was leaning against the wall, a glass in his hand and dark eyes that swept over me without the slightest hurry. He said nothing. He just set the glass on the edge and walked toward me, and that stillness of his made me more nervous than any words would have.

—Now I believe you —he said at last, and his voice was deep, calm.

The first caress came from Mateo. He rose from the water, took my face in both hands, and kissed me slowly, as if we had all night, which we did. I felt his tongue searching for mine, the taste of red wine, the pressure of his wet body against mine. This is what you wanted, I told myself, and I let myself fall into the kiss.

—Ah… —slipped from me against his mouth.

Bruno’s hands slid down my back and untied the bikini strap with a ease that made me smile. The fabric gave way and my breasts were exposed to the night air. Damián, in front of me, watched me without touching me yet, and that waiting was almost worse than any caress.

—Don’t be in a hurry —I told him, holding his gaze.

—I’m not —he replied, and only then did he place his open palm on my stomach.

I closed my eyes. Three pairs of hands began moving over me at once, each one seeking a different territory. Bruno’s lips slid along my neck and down to my breast. Mateo held my hips. Damián drew slow circles over my skin, as if measuring me, as if he had all the time in the world to get where he wanted to go.

—More —I asked, and my own voice sounded unfamiliar to me.

The water called to all of us. I went down the steps with Mateo holding my hand, and the coolness rose to my waist as the other two followed me. The pool was barely deep in that area, just enough to stand and feel everything. They surrounded me. I was trapped between the three of them, and I had never felt so in control of a situation.

***

Bruno was the first to lose patience. He turned me gently but without asking permission, until I had my back to him, and I felt him move aside the last strip of fabric I had left. His hands covered my hips. Mateo, in front of me, kissed me again, and while he did, Damián’s fingers found the exact place between my legs.

—You’re shaking —Damián said in my ear.

—Don’t stop —was the only thing I could answer.

I leaned slightly forward, resting on Mateo’s shoulders, and that posture said everything. Bruno understood the message. I felt him press against me, slow at first, giving me time, until I gave in and let out a long moan that blended with the murmur of the water. The heat of his body behind mine, his firm hands on my waist, all of it pushed me toward a place I didn’t want to leave.

—Like that —I panted—. Slowly… like that.

Mateo didn’t stay still. He slid his hand between my thighs and began to stroke me to the rhythm of Bruno’s thrusts, and the combination ripped a sound from me that I didn’t even recognize. I had two men taking care of me at once, and my free hand reached for Damián, who had come up to my side.

—Come here —I told him, and pulled him toward me.

I took him in my hand and guided him toward my mouth. Damián tangled his fingers in my wet hair, not forcing, just accompanying, while I took him in and felt him harden against my tongue. The salty taste, the ragged breathing of the three men around me, the water licking at our legs: it was all too much and at the same time not enough.

I had imagined that scene so many times in the weeks before that I could hardly believe it was really happening. In my head it had always been a game of shadows, something confessed in a low voice in the darkness of the bedroom. Now it was real skin, real weight, three different voices saying my name. The fantasy had become so concrete it barely let me think, and that was exactly what I had wanted.

—God, Lorena —murmured Damián, and hearing him say my name like that only set me on fire more.

I found my own rhythm among the three of them. Bruno set the pace behind me, deep and steady. My mouth attended to Damián, rising and falling, while my free hand squeezed Mateo, who had moved closer so as not to be left out of anything. I had all three of them at once, and the feeling of power it gave me was almost as intense as the physical pleasure.

—Don’t stop —Bruno panted behind me—. You’re incredible.

I let go of Damián for just an instant, just enough to draw breath.

—Let’s get out of the water —I asked—. I want to feel you better.

We climbed the steps amid rough laughter and hands that never left my body. There was a wide lounger, one of those doubles, next to the edge, and that was where they took me. I lay on my side, my skin still wet and the whole night ahead of us. Mateo settled in front of me; Bruno took position behind me again; Damián stood within reach, beside the lounger.

—I want to see you enjoying yourself —said Mateo, repeating almost the same words as that first afternoon.

—Then don’t make me wait —I answered.

And they didn’t make me wait. Bruno entered me again from behind, this time with the lounger supporting us, deeper, firmer. Mateo leaned down and caught one of my nipples between his lips, biting just enough to make me arch my back. I had taken Damián in my hand again, bringing him toward my mouth, alternating between him and the sighs I couldn’t hold back.

—Yes… like that… don’t stop —I begged, and the sentence came out broken, in gasps.

Damián changed position then, kneeling beside my head so I could keep tending to him without effort, and the new posture let me look him in the eyes while I did it. I held his gaze on purpose. I wanted him to see everything: the pleasure, the boldness, the desire. Bruno, behind me, matched his rhythm to mine, and Mateo slid his hand from my chest down lower, until he found once again the exact spot that made me lose my mind.

The heat began building in the center of my body, that unmistakable pressure that announces there isn’t much left. Every thrust from Bruno, every caress from Mateo, every moan from Damián against my cheek, all of it added to a wave that kept growing without pause. I gripped the fabric of the lounger with my free hand. My thighs were trembling.

—I’m close —I warned—. Very close.

—Let go —Mateo whispered, looking into my eyes—. We’re here.

And I let go. The orgasm hit me full force, a current that ran from the nape of my neck to my feet and made me scream without the slightest shame, without caring about the entire city sleeping beyond the terrace wall. My muscles tightened around Bruno, who groaned my name and held me more tightly, supporting me while I came apart between the three of them.

For an instant the whole world was reduced to that lounger, those bodies, the four of us breathing hard mixed with the murmur of the water. I opened my eyes slowly. Mateo brushed a damp strand from my forehead with a tenderness that contrasted with everything else.

—Are you okay? —he asked softly.

—Better than okay —I said, and laughed, still trembling.

Damián was still beside me, unhurried, waiting. Bruno kissed my shoulder. And I, far from feeling sated, sat up on my elbows and looked at them one by one, the three of them, with a smile that was anything but innocent.

—The night has just begun —I told them.

None of them argued. Valencia’s lights kept trembling on the water, indifferent, while I went back to Mateo’s mouth and let Bruno settle me again between his hands. There was no clock that mattered in there. Only the four of us, the pool, and the desire we still had left to spend.

(To be continued)