The Vacation Send-Off Marcos Organized for Me

I’d been counting down the days for weeks. Not because I hated my job, but because I’d gone months without taking more than a weekend off in a row, and the body starts to register that kind of thing in ways you don’t anticipate: sleep that won’t come, the tension in your shoulders that won’t let up, the difficulty concentrating after four in the afternoon.

Friday was my last day before two weeks of vacation, and all I wanted was to get home, drop my bag, and do absolutely nothing for at least forty-eight hours. I’d done all my supermarket shopping on Wednesday so I wouldn’t have to go out, I’d had my phone on silent since Thursday, and that same morning I’d deleted the work apps from my mobile as a symbolic act marking the start of my break.

But Marcos had other ideas.

—We’re having a toast this afternoon —he announced from his desk, without even looking up—. Those of us going on vacation are doing one last round before disappearing. At my place.

There were four of us starting vacation that week: Marcos, Santiago, Diego, and me. Andrés didn’t have time off until August, but he never missed a celebration like this, and nobody expected him to.

—Do you have a pool? —I asked.

—I have a pool and all the alcohol we need.

It wasn’t a proposal, it was a statement. And to be honest, I didn’t feel like resisting much anyway.

***

I knew them all well, though in different ways.

With Marcos I’d had a couple of sporadic encounters over the course of the year, things that happened without anyone planning them and then continued afterward as if nothing had happened, without awkward conversations or expectations to manage. The first time had been in his office, a Thursday at nine at night, with him sitting in his chair and me on my knees under the desk sucking his cock until he came in my mouth without warning. That was how it worked between us from the start, and neither of us saw any reason to make it complicated.

Santiago was younger than me, freshly twenty-eight, quiet and sparing with words in team meetings. He was the kind of man who’s always at the back of the room but ends up sticking in your memory because when he does speak, he says something worth hearing. He had a physical presence that didn’t quite match the way he moved through the office, almost invisible, and I’d noticed him more than once without us ever managing to exchange more than a couple of sentences in the hallway. More than once I’d wondered what someone so big and so quiet had between his legs.

Diego was the funny one in the group, always with a timely comment at the tip of his tongue and an energy that filled any space. Behind that, though, there was a look that knew exactly what it wanted and waited for the right moment to ask for it. He was the kind of person you underestimate first and remember later.

And Andrés was the veteran. The one who’d been with the company longer than any of us, the one who knew all the unwritten office rules and ignored them with the ease that comes from years of experience. He had that almost calculated calm that at first you might mistake for indifference, but which was really the opposite: it was presence, focused attention behind a neutral expression.

We arrived at Marcos’s apartment a little after seven. It was on the fifth floor, with a large terrace and a small pool that was perfect for the heavy heat of that last Friday in July. He served us ice-cold beers right in the kitchen, no fuss, and within minutes we were already outside, the five of us sitting on the edge with our feet in the water.

—Are we getting in? —Diego asked, with that smile of his that already knew the answer.

—I didn’t bring a swimsuit —I said.

—Nobody did —Marcos replied, and took off his shirt.

That was that. No more discussion, no more comments. I pulled my dress off over my head, unclipped my bra, and yanked my panties down in one motion while the four of them watched without hiding it. I saw Santiago swallow. I saw Diego’s cock hardening before he even got into the water. Marcos already had a half-erection and made no attempt to cover it. Andrés was the last to undress, and he did it with the same calm he brought to everything, folding his trousers over a chair before stepping into the pool.

Within ten minutes the five of us were in, beers perched on the edge and conversation floating between work, vacation plans, and the kind of jokes you can only make when you know the people you’re with well enough to know how far you can go.

The water was warm, almost the same color as the sky, which had that muted orange of summer sunsets. I leaned back against the edge with my arms outstretched and my eyes closed. The tension from the last few months was starting to ease. It had been a long time since I’d felt this relaxed anywhere that wasn’t my own bed.

I felt a hand on my waist.

It wasn’t Marcos. It was Santiago, who had come close without my noticing and had his fingers resting lightly on my hip beneath the water, as if testing whether I’d allow it. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move. And he took that as what it was.

—You’re really tense —he murmured near my ear.

—I was really tense —I corrected him.

He gave a soft laugh. Then he moved his hand to my back and started massaging my shoulders with exact pressure, not too hard, not too soft, right at the spot where the muscle gives way. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Santiago’s other hand slid under the water, circled one breast, and pinched my nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it hardened. I let out a short moan I couldn’t hold back. I opened my eyes and saw Marcos watching from the other side of the pool with that half-smile of his that meant he knew exactly what was happening and had no problem with it.

—Are we doing what I think we’re doing? —Diego asked from the center of the pool.

—Depends on what you think —I said.

—That tonight’s going to be interesting.

—Very interesting —Andrés confirmed from my left, without my having heard him come up.

Santiago’s hand moved down my back, squeezed one ass cheek with his whole palm, then slid between my legs. He pushed two fingers into me in one go, without preamble, and I did nothing to stop him. On the contrary: I opened my legs a little wider under the water and leaned against his shoulder so he’d have a better angle. I felt his hard cock against my hip, thick and long even through the water, and it confirmed what I’d suspected for months at the office.

—Marcos —I said, not taking my eyes off Santiago—, tell me you’ve got condoms inside.

—A whole box.

—Thank God.

***

We got out of the water once night had fully fallen. Marcos turned on some lamps on the terrace and someone lowered the music. There was no need to talk much; the situation already had its own rhythm, and the five of us could feel it.

I sat down on one of the large couches Marcos had near the glass door, still wet, my hair plastered to my shoulders and droplets falling between my breasts. Santiago knelt in front of me without saying anything and began running his hands over my thighs, from the inside out, slowly, parting them firmly until I was completely exposed. He looked at my pussy up close, as if studying it, then bent down without haste and ran his tongue all the way from bottom to top, long and flat, finishing with a wet kiss on my clit. A gasp escaped me, making Andrés sit down beside me and kiss my neck, the curve between shoulder and jaw, that spot that always works. Marcos came up on the other side. Diego stayed standing a few steps back, his cock already completely hard and pointing upward, watching with his arms crossed and that smile of his.

Santiago’s tongue worked with a precision I hadn’t expected from someone so quiet. He sucked, licked, pushed in with the tip and came back up to make slow circles over my clit. He slid two fingers into me while he did it and curled them upward, looking for the exact spot that made me lift my hips off the couch. Andrés’s mouth stayed on my neck, moving down to my shoulder, until he reached a nipple and sucked hard on it. Marcos’s hand came to rest on my other breast, then moved down, took my wrist, and guided it to his cock so I’d hold it. It was hard, hot, and I started stroking him slowly with the slick palm of pool water.

—Look at her —Diego said, more to himself than to the rest of us—. Look how much she’s enjoying it.

—Shut up and come here —I said, barely above a whisper.

Diego came closer on the other side. I took his cock in my free hand and stayed like that, one in each hand, Andrés’s mouth on one breast, Santiago’s tongue eating my pussy, and his fingers inside me curling exactly where they needed to curl.

That was how they wanted my vacation to start. And I had no objection.

I came before any of them penetrated me. Just hands, mouth, and the accumulated pressure of weeks coming out all at once. I felt everything clench around Santiago’s fingers, my thighs tightening until his head was trapped between them, the groan leaving me long and uncontrollable while my hands squeezed Marcos’s and Diego’s cocks harder than I intended. Santiago didn’t stop sucking my clit until I was done trembling all over, and when he finally lifted his face, it was shining with me from nose to chin.

When I opened my eyes, the four of them were looking at me with that particular attention people have when they know they’ve just seen something real.

—Let’s go inside —Marcos said.

***

The living room had a brown leather sofa that took up almost the whole back wall. The kind of piece that makes no sense in a store but makes perfect sense in the right situation. That night we used it every possible way.

Diego sat down first. I spread his legs, knelt between them, and took his cock in both hands. It was a comfortable thickness, just the right length, and so hard it was throbbing against my palm. I took it into my mouth all the way in one go and he let out a moan that broke loose from deep in his throat.

—You little fucker —he said, admiringly.

I sucked him hard, going up and down with my lips tight, teasing the frenulum with my tongue every time I reached the tip. I took his balls in one hand and caressed them to the rhythm of my mouth. Marcos came up behind me, pressed his cock against my ass over my panties, and slid a hand between my legs to finger me with two fingers while I sucked Diego’s cock. I arched my back to give him more room.

—Come on, ride me —Diego said, tugging gently at my hair to bring my head up.

Marcos handed me a condom. I put it on Diego with my mouth, pulling it down to the base in one smooth motion with my lips. Then I climbed on top of him. He grabbed my waist firmly and I sank onto him slowly, feeling him enter me centimeter by centimeter until I was seated on him with all of his cock inside me. I set the pace from above, leaning down to find his mouth and bite his lower lip. The way he moved was direct, no detours, driving up into me every time I came down, and that was exactly what I needed after the delicacy of the start.

Santiago waited behind me until he found the moment and the angle. I felt the cold condom slicked with lubricant against my ass first, and then the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, pushing just enough to test whether I’d open for him. Diego stopped moving. I took a deep breath, relaxed as much as I could, and pushed my hips back.

Santiago entered slowly, with a care I was grateful for in silence, because he was big and I could feel every millimeter. When he got in, the air caught in my throat in a way I couldn’t hide even if I’d wanted to.

—Jesus —I said, or something like it, my voice breaking.

He stayed still for a few seconds, giving me time. Then he started moving, first very slowly, coordinating with Diego so that one slid out as the other went in, until they found a shared rhythm that drove through me from top to bottom. There’s something about being like that, with two cocks at the same time, one in your cunt and one in your ass, that’s hard to explain properly. It isn’t just physical, though it is that too. It’s the loss of control over the rhythm, the surrender to something that exceeds you and at the same time depends entirely on your own choices. I had chosen it. I had chosen them. And that made everything work in a way it wouldn’t have otherwise.

Marcos was standing in front of me. I took him with my hand first, then brought him to my mouth, moving to the rhythm Santiago was setting from behind. Every thrust from Santiago shoved Marcos’s cock deeper into my throat. He noticed and started helping, taking me by the nape with both hands and fucking my mouth to the same beat. Andrés watched from the arm of the sofa with that calm of his, unhurried, stroking himself slowly while he waited his turn.

—She’s delicious —Diego said from below, squeezing my tits—. I didn’t know you could take it like this.

—Shut up and keep going —Marcos said, not slowing down in my mouth.

I came like that, with all three of them. Diego came a few seconds later, with a long growl and his hands dug into my hips. Santiago kept going a little longer, changing the rhythm, deeper, until he came inside the condom with his face pressed to my shoulder and hot breath on my neck.

I got off Diego, turned around, and finished sucking Marcos’s cock until Marcos himself pulled my head away.

—Not yet —he said—. I want to fuck you.

After a while we switched. With Marcos I already knew the territory, but that night he was different with me. He bent me over the couch on all fours, rolled on the condom, and shoved his cock into me all the way in one thrust. He grabbed my hair, wound it around his fist, and started fucking me hard, with those loud, skin-on-skin thrusts of his, with no intention of being gentle. I gripped the leather with my hands and pushed back to take him. Andrés came to stand in front of me and offered me his cock. I sucked him all the way down, helping myself with my hand, while Marcos tore into me from behind.

Marcos tugged on my hair just a little harder, not to hurt me, just to mark that he was there, and sped up until his breath broke and he came with his chest pressed to my back. He pulled out carefully, removed the condom, and tossed it on the floor. I wiped my lips on Andrés, laughed at God knows what exactly. At the night, I suppose. At being exactly where I was.

—What? —Andrés asked.

—Nothing. Just that I’m good.

—Good good, or good?

—Both.

***

Andrés was the last. He had a slow, deliberate way of moving that contrasted with all the energy that had come before. He laid me on my back on the couch, spread my legs, and bent down first to eat my pussy with the calm of someone having dessert after dinner, as if he had nothing else at all to do in life. He sucked my clit with his lips closed, pushed his whole tongue inside me, made little circles with the tip until I was shaking again and holding his head with both hands. When he lifted his face and put on the condom, he looked at me.

—You’re not going to come yet —he said—. I want to watch you when you do it with me inside you.

He took his time running his hands over me from shoulders to thighs, as if he’d learned somewhere along the way that delay has its own value and that rushing is never worth it. He slid his fingers over my pussy, played with my clit, fingered me in and out several times, until I was already begging him to put it in.

—Put it in, please.

—That’s how you ask me for it?

—Put it in already, you bastard.

He smiled faintly. When he finally entered me, he did it slowly, not skipping steps, and looked me in the eyes in a way that was unexpectedly intimate for the context. He pushed all the way in and stayed there, letting me feel every millimeter. Then he started moving, with long, controlled thrusts, going all the way in and almost all the way out before going back in again.

—You’re different from what I thought —he said.

—What did you think?

—Something different. I’m not exactly sure what.

I didn’t answer because there was nothing useful to say. I focused on what I felt: the pressure of his hands on my hips, the leather of the couch against my back, the dull sound of our combined weight, the sloshing of my soaked pussy every time he pushed in, the music still playing outside on the terrace, the smell of chlorine we still both had on our skin mixed with the smell of sex throughout the room.

He lifted my legs over his shoulders and leaned forward, folding me almost in half, and that let him go even deeper. He fucked me with those slow, complete thrusts that shook me from top to bottom. He sucked one breast without stopping, then the other, then found my mouth and kissed me with tongue while he stayed inside.

—Now —he said in my ear—. Now come.

I came for the third time with him on top of me, and that was the longest one. I felt it spread outward from the center, slow and complete, and I stayed still until it had fully passed. He kept moving slowly through my orgasm, drawing it out, until finally he sped up a little and came with a low groan, resting his forehead against mine.

Andrés lay back beside me. The other three were sprawled across the couch, one of them already dozing with even breathing and closed eyes.

—Where are you going on vacation? —Andrés asked after a while.

—I haven’t decided yet —I said—. Maybe nowhere special.

—So why are you taking two weeks if you’re not going anywhere?

—For this —I said, and gestured around the room, the four of them, the whole night.

He laughed. It was the first time I’d ever seen him laugh for real, not that polite laugh from work meetings.

—Good judgment —he said.

***

I stayed the night because it was late and because nobody asked me to leave. I woke up at eight with the sun coming in through the open windows and the sound of Marcos making coffee in the kitchen. The other three were still asleep, Santiago with his head on the arm of the couch, Diego curled up with a pillow someone had brought from somewhere, Andrés on his back with his arms crossed over his chest and the same calm expression he always wore.

I got up, went to the kitchen, and sat on the counter, still naked. Marcos offered me a cup without asking how I took it because he already knew. We drank our coffee in silence, that kind of comfortable silence that only exists between people who no longer have anything to prove.

Through the window you could see the terrace, the pool still and reflecting the morning sky, and the neighborhood still asleep on a summer Saturday.

—Good way to start a vacation —Marcos said.

—The best I’ve had in years —I replied.

It was completely true.