What Happened When We Came Home from the Concert with Another Couple

It all started a few months ago, when my wife and I went out with another couple to see a band we all liked. Before the concert we had dinner at an Italian place downtown and, between the wine with dinner and the beers that came after, the four of us were already pretty loose. Marina and Gonzalo were new friends, the kind of recent friendship that still has the spark of something new.

The concert was a furnace. So many people, so much heat, and we were pushing our way through the crowd with a plastic cup in hand that kept getting refilled by itself. When it ended and the venue started to empty, none of us wanted the night to end there.

“What if we keep going at home with a quiet drink?” Marina suggested.

Nobody said no.

***

In the living room at home we opened another bottle and spread out on the sofas. We started talking about anything and everything, but the alcohol lowered our defenses and, almost without realizing it, we ended up playing one of those question games that only comes out when nobody’s sober anymore.

“Come on, a real one,” Gonzalo said, pointing at me with his glass. “How many women did you hook up with before you got married?”

I was laughing and kept drinking. Each round took us up a notch: the questions went from funny to intimate, from intimate to provocative. My wife, sitting beside me, squeezed my knee every time she poured me another drink.

“Enough, or nobody’s getting you up tomorrow,” she whispered.

I ignored her. I was at that point where everything seems like a good idea.

“Last question,” Marina said, looking straight at me. “Would you hook up with someone of your own sex just to prove you don’t care?”

She said it like a bluff, certain I’d back down. And with my pride fired up by the wine, the worst or best answer occurred to me. I leaned over the table, grabbed Gonzalo by the nape of the neck, and gave him a tongue kiss that lasted longer than anyone expected.

When I pulled away, the four of us went silent for a second. Then we burst out laughing.

“That doesn’t count, you women wouldn’t dare,” I said, twisting the knife a little further.

Marina and my wife looked at each other. And not to be outdone, they kissed. But theirs wasn’t a bluff kiss. It was long, slow, with their hands searching for each other. At one point I saw Marina’s hand brush my wife’s thigh, slide up slowly, and linger exactly where it shouldn’t linger between two people who had just met. She slipped a hand under her dress and my wife parted her legs without even realizing it, letting her get there. Marina pulled her panties aside with two fingers and started touching her cunt in front of me, never taking her eyes off mine as she did it. I watched the fingers go in and out, glistening, watched my wife bite her lip to keep from moaning, watched the dress ride up at the waist until it showed her whole shaved cunt and that pink pussy opening its lips against someone else’s hand.

This is getting out of hand, I thought. And the thought, far from stopping me, turned me on. I got so hard the fabric of my trousers was obscenely outlined.

***

Their kiss went on and I kept drinking, unable to look away. Until my wife noticed the glass in my hand again and came back at me.

“Seriously, enough already. You’ll pay for this tomorrow.”

Something in me, too drunk and too stubborn, twisted. I got up abruptly, said something stupid out loud, and stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door. I threw myself onto the bed fully dressed and, with the room spinning, fell asleep almost at once.

I don’t know how long I slept. I looked at the clock on the nightstand when I woke: barely fifteen minutes. What pulled me out of sleep were noises coming from the living room. Murmurs, a creak from the sofa, a breath that wasn’t conversation. A muffled moan, wet, and behind it the unmistakable smack of a cock going in and out of a wet cunt.

I got up with a dry mouth and walked down the dark hallway. The living room door was ajar. What I saw froze me in place.

They had moved the coffee table aside. Marina was lying on the cushions with her hips raised, her legs spread wide and her soaked cunt on display, shining under the lamp light. My wife, kneeling in front of her, held her legs against her chest while she ate her out with no shame at all. I could see her tongue going in whole, sucking on her lips, climbing to the swollen clit and back down to the hole, and Marina writhing and grabbing her hair to press her face closer. And behind my wife, holding her by the waist, was Gonzalo, thrusting into her slowly, with his whole cock buried to the balls, pulling it out shiny and pushing it back in to the hilt.

My head was racing. The only one who saw me was Marina. She didn’t get scared. She held my gaze and smiled, like someone who’d been waiting a while for you to show up.

I took a step forward to see better. Gonzalo was spreading my wife’s ass cheeks and fucking her from behind, with a slowness that made her arch. I saw his cock in full, thick, slick with her juices, going in and out with a heavy rhythm that made the flesh slap wetly. At that moment he lifted his head, found me at the door, and froze for an instant.

“I’m sorry,” he said, almost under his breath.

But he didn’t stop. He drove into my wife again, slower, and she let out a long moan with her mouth still glued to Marina’s cunt. And to my surprise, I didn’t want him to stop either.

I moved up to where my wife still had her mouth on Marina’s sex. She lifted her eyes to me and, without stopping what she was doing, spoke to me between gasps.

“You got angry over something stupid,” she said. “And you were going to miss this.”

She lowered her head again and drove her tongue into Marina until she made her scream. There was no reproach in her voice, only a kind of calm challenge. As if she were giving me the chance to choose.

***

I chose to stay. I decided that this belonged to me too.

I pulled down my pants and briefs in one yank without taking my eyes off Marina, who kept smiling at me from the sofa. My cock sprang free, hard as a rock, dripping at the tip. I moved up to her face and offered it. She opened her mouth and swallowed me whole in one go, all the way to the base, with a sincerity she wasn’t faking. I felt her take me to the back of her throat, and even so she kept pushing her face into me until her nose touched my pubis. She started sucking me slowly, licking my balls one by one first, sliding her flat tongue up the underside vein, and then without restraint, taking me deep until she gagged, eyes watering and saliva running down her chin to her tits. I held her by the hair and fucked her mouth at my own pace, pulling out every so often to rub myself across her lips and cheeks, while I felt every minute I had spent angry in bed turn stupid.

“You suck cock so well, fuck,” I told her, my voice rough. “Take all of it.”

She answered by pressing her lips tighter and sucking harder, hollowing her cheeks each time I pulled out.

When I was about to finish, I pulled away. I didn’t want it to end that soon. I went around the sofa to stand beside Gonzalo and slid under my wife, lying on my back between her legs and his. She was on top of me, her cunt open right over my face, dripping and red from so much use.

“Both of us at once,” I told him, looking him in the eye.

He understood right away. He pulled his cock out of my wife’s cunt with a wet sound and guided me first, taking my dick in his hand and helping me put it in until I felt it yield and swallow me whole. She was so wet I went in at once, without resistance. Then he settled himself on top, placed the tip against the same hole, already full, and started pushing slowly. Gonzalo was quite large, and my wife protested at first, biting her lip and digging her nails into my chest, until her body gave way and the two of us went in rubbing against each other inside. I felt his cock against mine, both of them squeezing inside the same cunt, separated only by a thin membrane of flesh. We started moving in a clumsy rhythm that gradually found its cadence: when he pulled out I went in, when I pulled out he went in, and every so often the two of us pushed at once and my wife screamed with her mouth open against Marina’s shoulder. She buried her face in Marina’s neck and stopped protesting. She started rocking on her own, backwards, searching for us, impaling herself on both cocks at once.

“Fuck me,” she panted. “Both of you at once, like that, don’t stop.”

Marina, meanwhile, had gotten up. I saw her grab the phone from the table and start filming us, walking around the sofa, hunting for the angle. She framed my wife’s cunt split by the two cocks, then my face, then Gonzalo’s face tense with pleasure. Knowing it was being recorded didn’t shut me down; it turned me on even more. I started thrusting harder from below, listening to my balls slap against his, feeling his cock rub against mine inside her every time we moved out of sync.

***

Gonzalo came first. He suddenly sped up, groaned hoarsely and buried himself to the hilt, and I felt perfectly how his cock throbbed inside her, unloading each spurt against mine. When he pulled out, a thick mix dripped over my cock and my balls. Almost on reflex, he moved toward Marina offering himself, still smeared with cum and pussy juices. She made a disgusted face and shoved him away with her hand.

“No fucking way,” she said, laughing. “Not his.”

Instead, she pushed him aside and took his place behind me. She lifted my wife gently, drew me out with soft care, and found my cock slippery, covered in Gonzalo’s semen and her own fluids. She crouched without hesitation and took it back into her mouth like that, dirty, licking me all over to clean me with her tongue. She alternated: one while eating me deeply, sucking my balls and taking me down her throat; another while running her tongue over my wife’s body, sucking her nipples and going down to her cunt to lick out what Gonzalo had left inside her; always coming back to me with her mouth full of both their tastes. At one of those passes she brought her mouth to my ear.

“Cum in my mouth,” she asked softly. “Please. I want to taste all of you.”

I didn’t take long. She started sucking me nonstop, both hands squeezing my balls, her tongue circling the head every time I came out, and I could feel everything rising from the base of my spine. When I felt it coming I grabbed her arm, she leaned in and took all of it without missing a drop, mouth open and tongue out. I fired the first spurt against the roof of her mouth, the second onto her tongue, the third hung from her lips. But she didn’t swallow it right away. She sat up with her mouth still full, found my wife’s mouth and passed some of it over with a slow kiss, letting a strand slip between the two of them. Then she came to mine and did the same, and I tasted on my own tongue the salty, thick flavor of my semen mixed with her saliva, and only then did she swallow what was left, looking at me with a smile I wouldn’t forget easily.

Gonzalo had gotten up from the sofa. He went over to my wife and she, still trembling, knelt in front of him and did something for him that she almost never granted me: she took him all the way in, both hands on his ass, pushing her face against his pubis until she gagged, sucking him slowly at first and then at a brutal pace that made his jaw snap. I watched without jealousy, only with a new curiosity, as if I were discovering the person I’d been sleeping with for years. I saw her take him in like she was starving, and him holding her by the hair with both hands and fucking her mouth without any care.

Before pulling away, Marina leaned toward my ear again.

“What I have with you will always be like this,” she whispered. “Whenever you want, wherever you want. I don’t care where, I don’t care what time. You just have to ask.”

***

What Marina said didn’t stay an intoxicated line. I found that out the following week, at her daughter’s birthday party, surrounded by balloons and people. At one point, while everyone was doing their own thing, she took my hand, led me to the bathroom, and locked the stall. No words were needed. She lifted her skirt, pulled her panties down to her ankles, and leaned on the sink looking at me through the mirror. I took it out, grabbed her by the hips and shoved in, and fucked her from behind with one hand over her mouth so nothing could be heard, watching her face go slack in the reflection as she came silently, squeezing my cock from the inside. I came too, inside, and she wiped herself with tissue without ever stopping smiling. I walked out of there ten minutes later with my heart racing and her touching up her lipstick in the mirror as if nothing had happened.

But that night, the first one, still wasn’t over. After Marina went back to her place, my wife sat up, looked down at me, and without asking permission sat on my face. I felt the weight of her soaked cunt crushing my mouth, the strong smell of sex and other people’s cum, and I stuck my tongue out without hesitation.

“Now you,” she ordered. “Eat it all. Get it out with your tongue.”

I obeyed happily. I drove my tongue in deep and started licking, tasting the thick flavor of Gonzalo’s semen sliding down my throat, mixed with her own juices. I licked her lips one by one, went up to the swollen clit and sucked it with my lips, went down to the hole and shoved my tongue in as far as I could, and she rubbed herself against my face without any care, riding my mouth. Gonzalo came over and started running his tongue over her body while looking for mine, sucking her nipples at the same time I ate her cunt, and at some point our tongues met over her clit and we licked it together. Marina had stayed to one side, watching everything with her phone already put away, touching herself slowly, enjoying the role of witness.

When my wife finished, with a tremor I felt in my legs and a hot gush that filled my mouth, she collapsed beside me, exhausted. It took her a moment to catch her breath. Then she looked at the other two with a tired smile.

“I think that’s enough for today,” she said.

Marina and Gonzalo gathered their things with soft laughter, gave each of us a kiss at the door, and left as if we were saying goodbye after an ordinary dinner. My wife and I were left alone in the half-cleared living room, with the cushions on the floor and the empty bottle on the table.

We went to bed without saying much. Before turning off the light, she turned toward me.

“Next time don’t go to bed angry,” she said.

And the two of us knew there would be a next time.