The Wedding Where We Swapped Partners for the First Time

The invitation had been stuck to the refrigerator for weeks, and Mariana looked at it every morning with a smile I knew all too well. The wedding of some friends in an old country house, half an hour from the city, promised to be the perfect excuse for one of those nights when she transforms and I let her shine.

It was a Saturday afternoon. While she got ready in front of the mirror, she chose the green dress: tight-fitting, with a deep neckline, a bare back, and a slit up the leg that suggested without revealing everything. It wasn't short, but it traced every curve of her body with a precision that made my mouth go dry.

—You shouldn't wear anything underneath —I whispered from the bathroom door.

She turned her head, amused, and bit her lip before answering.

—Just a tiny, almost transparent black thong —she said—. It'll show beneath the fabric. Just the way you like it.

And that was how it all began.

She slipped on a pair of high heels, took one last look at herself, and let out a low laugh loaded with intent. I put on a dark suit, trying to measure up to what she was going to provoke that night. When we went down to the car, she stopped me with one hand on my chest and kissed my neck.

—I hope the party brings some surprises —she murmured against my ear, and her hand slid down to squeeze my already-hard cock through my trousers—. And I hope I come home with my pussy full.

We almost didn't make it there. I had to take a deep breath, start the engine, and concentrate on the road while she looked out the window as if nothing were happening, her legs slightly spread and that tiny thong already wet, stuck to the lips of her sex.

***

The house was beautiful, colonial in style, with long galleries, broad gardens, and a small chapel where the ceremony was held. The bride and groom looked radiant, the decorations had a Roman air, and everything exuded elegance. But as soon as we crossed the door into the reception hall, I felt the usual thing: heads turning, eyes fixed on Mariana's tits outlined beneath her plunging neckline and on her ass hugged by the green fabric, following her as she strode imperiously between the tables.

She noticed, of course. She enjoyed it. She walked with her back straight and the faintest suggestion of a smile, radiating a confidence that drove the men crazy and made some women nervous. Even the waiters lingered a second too long when she passed.

They seated us at a long table shared with four other couples. We toasted with the welcome cocktail, broke the ice with pleasant conversation, and, as always, everyone found an excuse to talk to us and discreetly flirt with her. Mariana played along and then told me about it in my ear, laughing, while the tension built beneath the table.

—If you knew how many of them are looking at me right now —she said, brushing against my leg—, you'd be jealous and turned on at the same time. The guy with the blue tie stared at my tits throughout the entire toast. He got a hard-on, I swear.

—I'm both —I admitted, slipping my hand beneath her dress and brushing her thigh. The thong barely covered anything; I felt the heat of her pussy just millimeters from my fingers.

They brought whiskey and tequila, the music started, and we went out to dance. Her movements grew looser, more provocative, and I encouraged her without trying to hide it. I pulled her close, stroked her waist, squeezed her ass whenever no one was looking, and pressed my hard cock against her belly so she could feel the effect she produced. At one point, already warmed up, I asked her for something I'd been thinking about since we left home.

—Take off your thong. I want to know you're bare-pussy all night.

She looked at me, thought about it for a second, and stood up. She crossed the hall toward the bathroom, turning just once to see my face. When she came back, she had the garment clenched in her fist, and when she passed it to me beneath the table, I noticed the fabric was soaked. She placed it naturally in my hand, and I tucked it into my jacket pocket, squeezing it in my fist like a trophy.

—You're dripping wet —I whispered in her ear.

—I've been like this since you asked me not to put anything on —she replied, and bit my earlobe.

Knowing she was completely naked beneath that dress was like striking a match. We danced again, and beneath the tight fabric everything showed in a way that made my pulse race: her hard nipples pressing against the silk, the line of her ass, the dark shadow between her legs whenever the slit in the dress opened with her movements. More than one man devoured her with his eyes, searching for the right angle, the smallest detail. I don't know whether any of them realized she was wearing nothing. We both loved the uncertainty.

I took advantage of a slow turn to slide my hand through the slit in her dress and slip two fingers between her thighs. I found her soaked, the lips of her pussy swollen and her clitoris already hard as a little stone. A short moan escaped her against my neck.

—If you keep doing that, you'll make me come standing right here, you son of a bitch —she whispered.

I pulled out my glistening fingers and brought them to my mouth. I sucked her taste in front of her, and watched her pupils dilate.

***

—I've got a game —I whispered in her ear.

We moved toward a gallery between the dance floor and the tables, a corner of absolute complicity. The rule was simple: every time someone passed by, she would tell me whether she'd fuck him and how, and whether she'd invite him to dance. I did the same with every woman who crossed our path.

A tall man in a gray suit passed by.

—That one, definitely —she said without hesitation—. You can tell he's well hung. I'd suck him on my knees before letting him fuck me all the way.

The bride passed by, beautiful in her white dress.

—She has a saint's face and a wildcat's body —I replied—. I'd eat her pussy until she came three times on my face before turning her over and fucking her ass.

We laughed, drunk on tequila and desire, but the truth was that I only had eyes for her. I watched her seduce her dance partners, let other people's hands brush her waist, arch her back, and move her hips like an ancient dance. Then we'd switch and end up together again, just when the others could no longer hide the erections outlined in their trousers.

Between turns, we'd whisper in each other's ears about how and in what position we imagined fucking each one of them. That I'd put her on all fours. That I'd ride him until I milked his load from him. It was a shared fantasy, a secret only the two of us understood, and it had us burning.

***

The last targets in the game were a couple we'd met at the table. They were from another city, and the conversation had flowed from the very first toast. Their names were Bianca and Damián, and the complicity between us was immediate.

—The music is too good —I said, standing up—. Let's dance.

I took Bianca; Mariana took Damián. We had it coordinated: we moved toward a dark corner of the gallery, away from the dance floor and near the garden. Bianca was also wearing a tight dress, with a bare back and a spectacular silhouette: firm tits outlined without a bra and a round ass begging to be fondled.

When a slow reggaeton song came on, there was no distance left between us. I took her hand, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her toward me. She followed the rhythm completely surrendered, one palm resting on my shoulder and her breathing growing shorter and shorter. My leg settled between hers, and I felt the heat of her pussy rubbing perfectly against my thigh through the fabric. We weren't in a hurry.

—You dance incredibly well —I told her—. Damián is lucky.

She liked the comment. She pressed closer and finally confessed, almost in my ear, that she and her partner were very open, that they had fun without guilt, and that more than once they had shared a bed with another couple. As she said it, I felt her squeeze her pussy against my leg and drive her hard tits into my chest. I couldn't stop my cock from turning to stone, and she didn't ignore it either: she lowered one hand and squeezed me through my trousers without attempting to hide it.

—Oof. You're hard —she murmured, biting her lip—. And big.

I looked up and found Mariana in the same rhythm with Damián. She had one leg between his, her hips moving and rubbing against the bulge outlined in his trousers, her back arched, her nipples piercing the green silk. He breathed in the scent of her hair with his eyes closed and squeezed her ass with both hands, sinking his fingers into the flesh.

That set me on fire. And her too. It was like a silent competition to the beat of the music, a game of knowing looks that dragged us somewhere we didn't want to leave. Amid laughter and toasts, there came a moment when the two women danced together, uninhibited, masters of the night, their hands brushing their thighs and their mouths dangerously close.

***

It was almost two in the morning when the newlyweds came over to say goodbye. Only a few guests and a couple of waiters remained. We went to the bathroom to freshen up, not knowing whether to leave or stretch the night out, because the truth was that none of us wanted it to end.

Bianca and Damián settled the question: they had rented a cabin at the back of the property, beside a stream that crossed the grounds. They invited us to keep the party going. I looked at Mariana, and her eyes told me everything.

We brought two bottles of tequila, put on some music, and sat around a round table. Bianca suggested spinning the bottle and playing truth or dare. Mariana was the first to answer, and the question came straight out.

—Would you ever like to have a threesome? —Bianca shot out.

—Of course. Why not? With two cocks at the same time would be even better —my wife replied, and all four of us burst out laughing.

If those were the opening questions, it wasn't hard to imagine what would come next. It was Damián's turn, and Mariana dared him to dance for the two women. He did it amid shouts and applause, even pulling his trousers down to his knees and showing the bulge outlined in his boxers. Then Bianca got a dare: two more shots of tequila, one from Mariana's navel. Bianca didn't hesitate: she pulled Mariana's dress up to her tits, poured the tequila onto her belly, and lowered her mouth to lick it slowly, brushing her tongue along the edge of her navel while Mariana let out a hoarse laugh and looked me in the eyes. The atmosphere grew warmer, bolder, dirtier.

When the bottle pointed at me, I chose truth. Bianca didn't waste any time.

—Would you swap partners? Here, now?

With the alcohol burning through us and arousal on the surface, I answered yes, that right then I wanted to fuck Bianca while Damián fucked Mariana. We turned off one light, leaving the room in semi-darkness, and Mariana came over to stroke my cock through my trousers, checking how hard I was. We confessed that we'd fantasized about this more than once; so had they. The connection was total.

We began kissing, each with the other's partner. Until I felt an unfamiliar leg brush against mine. It was Bianca.

—What if we try it right now? —I suggested.

There was a conspiratorial silence. Our looks answered for us. I whispered to Mariana that I knew she would enjoy it, and she only smiled and said:

—Let's do it. I want you to fuck Bianca. And I want to feel Damián's cock inside me.

***

All four of us went into the bedroom and sealed the rules with a toast: total freedom, no jealousy, for the rest of the night.

Bianca made the first move. She kissed me hungrily, thrusting her tongue deep into my mouth, and confessed in my ear that she'd wanted this since the dance, that she wanted to feel my cock inside her. I undressed her slowly: I lowered the straps of her dress and her tits sprang free, round, with pink erect nipples pointing at me. I sucked one and then the other, biting the tips until she moaned and arched her back. I finished taking off her dress and confirmed what Mariana had already told me under her breath: Bianca wasn't wearing anything underneath either. A shaved pussy, glistening, its lips already swollen with desire.

I knelt before her body, spread her legs, and buried my face between her thighs. I licked her from bottom to top, long and thoroughly, and drove my tongue between her lips in search of her clitoris. She grabbed my hair and pushed my head against her pussy.

—Yes, suck me like that, don't stop —she panted.

Beside me, Mariana had unzipped Damián's trousers and pulled his cock out. It was thick and dark, the tip already glistening with fluid. She knelt, grasped it with both hands, and took half of it into her mouth, sucking slowly while looking at me. I watched her cheek bulge with every thrust, a thread of saliva running down her chin. Damián held her head and guided her with his hips, groaning softly.

She sought my gaze while she kept sucking him, and that meeting of eyes—I with Bianca's pussy in my mouth, she with another man's cock in her throat—was an electric shock.

We arranged them both on the bed, side by side, on their backs, with their legs spread and hanging over the edge. We knelt between them and began to explore them with our mouths. I focused on Bianca, sucking her clitoris and sliding in two fingers, curling them upward in search of her sweet spot. Her legs began to tremble, and she pressed my head against her with both hands until she burst into a series of orgasms that shook her belly. Almost at the same time, I heard Mariana moaning beside me, her legs spread wide over Damián's shoulders and her voice broken with pleasure while he ate her pussy hungrily.

Bianca asked me for a condom in the hoarse voice of a needy woman. I put it on, grabbed her legs, and hooked them over my shoulders. I placed the tip of my cock at the entrance to her pussy, watched her bite her lip, and with one thrust sank all the way inside. Bianca let out a muffled cry and clung to the sheets. I began to fuck her slowly, pulling almost all the way out and driving back in to the balls, looking into her eyes while Mariana watched us from the side, biting her lips with one hand between her legs.

Damián did the same on the other side: he put Mariana on the edge and drove his cock into her in one thrust. She let out a guttural moan that drove my cock even deeper into Bianca. The two women were facing each other, looking into each other's eyes and caressing each other's tits, in a scene that looked pulled from a dream. Bianca reached out and pinched one of Mariana's nipples; my wife arched her back and moaned louder.

Then we switched positions. Mariana turned around, got on all fours on the bed, spread her legs, and presented her ass to Damián, thrusting her hips backward. He grabbed her waist, placed his cock between her buttocks, slid it a couple of times between the lips of her pussy, and thrust it all the way in with a sharp smack. Mariana screamed and buried her face in the pillow. Damián began fucking her with hard thrusts, his balls striking her clitoris, grabbing her hair, and she asked him for more in his ear: "Yes, harder, fuck me all the way, don't stop."

I stayed with Bianca, now with her on top, riding me. She moved over my cock, pressing her knees against my ribs, her tits bouncing in front of my face. I sat up a little, caught one nipple between my teeth, and she sped up, riding me harder and squeezing her pussy against the base of my cock. Suddenly I felt my wife's hand caressing my chest, seeking me even in the midst of her own pleasure. It was a new, electric kind of complicity.

At one point the two women kissed on the bed, long and deep, their visible tongues playing between their mouths, while we watched without moving, hypnotized, our hard cocks still buried inside them. Bianca grabbed one of Mariana's tits and sucked it hungrily, and Mariana threw her head back with a long moan.

We each went back to our own partner. I placed Mariana on her side, lifted her upper leg, and took her from behind, burying my cock in her pussy, wet and opened by Damián's cock. She was hot, slippery, tighter than ever from the excitement. I grabbed one of her tits with one hand and searched for her clitoris with the other, rubbing it in time with my thrusts while she whispered in my ear for me not to stop, to fuck her hard, to fill her pussy with my milk. Beside us, Bianca panted on all fours while Damián penetrated her from behind, and at times our hands crossed over their bodies, no longer quite sure whose they were. I slipped a finger into Bianca's mouth and she sucked it as if it were a cock, looking at me.

The moans rose in pitch until all four of us came almost at the same time. I felt Mariana's pussy tighten in spasms around my cock, her entire body trembling against mine. Mariana sat up just then, turned, sought my mouth with her tongue, and whispered, "Come inside me," while Damián came inside Bianca with a low roar. My orgasm became brutal: I grabbed Mariana by the hips and unloaded every last drop inside her, my wife's tongue still in my mouth and the salty taste of her pleasure between my lips.

We collapsed, panting, onto the sheets, all four tangled together, breathing unevenly, sweaty, our skin stuck together. A thread of semen ran along the inside of Mariana's thigh. Bianca's chest rose and fell, her nipples reddened from the biting. We rested for a few minutes; she fell asleep for an instant on my chest while Bianca, still embracing Damián, lazily stroked my wife's shoulder with one hand and casually brushed her tit with the other.

***

We left the cabin around four in the morning, disheveled and still burning. In the car, neither of us was entirely in control of ourselves. I told Mariana to lean over me, lifted her dress, and left her body exposed against the window while I drove slowly through the empty streets. I slipped my hand between her thighs and found her pussy still soaked, swollen, and warm from the two orgasms. I slid two fingers inside her and she opened wider, moaning softly, while with her other hand she opened my trousers, pulled out my cock, and began stroking it with slow movements.

There was no traffic at that hour, except at one traffic light where a taxi driver stopped beside us. He had a front-row view: my wife with her tits bare, her husband's cock in her hand, my fingers buried in her pussy. I didn't say a word. Neither did she stop; on the contrary, she turned her head, looked the taxi driver straight in the eyes, and brought my cock to her mouth without breaking eye contact. In the mirror I saw the man shift in his seat and lower one hand toward his fly. The light changed and I pulled away slowly, Mariana's mouth sliding up and down my cock, sucking me until I filled her throat with milk a few blocks later. She swallowed everything, wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, and smiled at me.

We continued like that, amid conspiratorial laughter and loaded silences, all the way home, knowing that wedding had changed us forever.