Your Two Friends Were Waiting to Share Me

—Your friend looks like she knows what she’s doing —I told Renata, without taking my eyes off the other woman—. But you look like something worse.

She gave me a brief smile, almost pitying, as if I still didn’t understand where I’d gotten myself. Renata was the kind of woman who doesn’t need to show much to command a room, and even so, that afternoon she was showing quite a bit. A short dark plaid skirt, and nothing underneath. I knew because she sat on the arm of the sofa, crossed her legs calmly, and let me draw my own conclusion. Light stockings halfway up her thighs. Her shirt was open just enough. Her hair tied back in a long braid that fell down her back. She was in her early thirties and had the confidence of someone who no longer asks anyone for permission.

—I’m going to use your mouth first —she said, nodding at me—. Then we’ll decide. But first I want you to take care of Mara. She didn’t come just to watch.

Mara stepped forward out of the hallway’s dimness. She was blonde, shorter, with an easy smile and full lips. She was wearing a tight pink T-shirt that didn’t cover her navel and a black thong. Nothing else. The fabric of the shirt strained against the weight of her breasts, and from the sides of the thong the dark hair showed through that the pink couldn’t quite hide. There was a kind of brazen boldness in her gaze that you learn with the years, not with age.

—I like how you’re dressed —I told her.

—I like getting myself ready before I’m stripped —she said—. It makes the boring part more fun.

I moved up to her slowly. I ran my hand over the small of her back, over the firm curve of her ass, round and hard beneath the thong’s thin strap. Her skin was warm, as if she’d been waiting for this for a good while. Renata, from the sofa, didn’t move. She just watched, and her stillness weighed more than any order.

—What things do you do to your boyfriend, Mara? —I asked, because Renata had told me she was seeing someone from the neighborhood and it seemed like the best place to start.

—Blow him, mostly —she said without blinking—. He likes it. I love it.

—Oh, yeah?

She nodded with an enthusiasm she wasn’t faking.

—Yeah. It’s what I’m best at.

I slid one hand to the front of her thong, where the fabric barely contained what it was trying to hold back, and with the other I felt one of her breasts through the cotton. The nipple hardened against my palm before I even squeezed. Mara closed her eyes for a second, then opened them again.

—I’m getting hard just thinking about you —I told her—. Give me a demonstration. Show me how you suck your boyfriend off.

She dropped to her knees in front of me without rushing. She pulled my pants down by the belt, then caught my boxer shorts with her teeth and dragged them down while keeping her eyes on me the whole time. I was already hard as a rock. Renata then stood up, crossed the room, and it was she who took me in hand and guided my cock to her friend’s mouth.

—I like when one woman gives another to a man —I murmured.

—Don’t get it twisted —Renata said, letting go of me—. I’m not giving her to you. I’m lending her to you.

Mara started gently. Her mouth was wet, her tongue soft, her lips barely pressed. While she licked and sucked, she jerked me with one hand and with the other held my testicles, tugging them downward with just the right pressure that made me hard even more. She knew exactly what she was doing. There wasn’t a trace of clumsiness in any movement, only calculation disguised as pleasure.

—My boyfriend likes it when I start slow and end up like a slut —she said, taking me out of her mouth for a moment—. How do you want it?

—However you feel like —I whispered. My skin was burning. I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it to the floor.

The delicacy didn’t last. Within two minutes, that stopped being a demonstration and turned into something dirtier and more honest. Mara combined style and vulgarity in a way few women manage: she could be elegant and obscene in the same gesture. Her mouth was exactly the right size for what I was giving her, and that made every movement deeper, tighter, more perfect. Little by little I guided her into more uncomfortable positions and none of them slowed her down. She took me down her throat without asking for mercy, and during one pause, without me asking, she slid her tongue lower, tracing me in a way that nearly made me come too soon. I pulled her off. I lifted her from my hip, put my cock back in her mouth, took it out again, kissed her wet lips. Then we went back at it. I wouldn’t be able to say anymore who was in charge.

During another break, Mara looked up and laughed. It wasn’t mockery; it was pure happiness, the relief of someone who’s having a better time than expected. But that laugh unsettled me, and I wiped it off her face slowly, sinking back into her mouth until her eyes grew damp. I like making them sweat a little. Not out of cruelty, but so they remember there’s someone on the other side.

—Get up —I told her at last.

I put her against the back of the sofa, with her back to me, and parted her thighs. She was soaking, open, ready for quite a while. I went in with one thrust and felt her give way with a long moan that came from deep in her chest. Renata came up from the side, lifted Mara’s pink shirt until her breasts were bare, and took them both in her hands while I drove into her. Then she leaned down and kissed her on the mouth, smothering her moans against her own tongue.

—Look at her —Renata said to me without letting her go—. Half an hour ago she was offended that I brought her. Now she doesn’t want to leave.

***

I turned her around so she’d face me. I pinched one nipple and she mewed like a cat. I moved my mouth down her stomach, over the brown, curly hair, and kissed her down there until she arched her back. Renata took the opportunity to hold her arms behind her, leaving her exposed, while I entered her again, this time face-to-face, slowly, looking at her in the eyes every time her breath escaped her.

A while later I lay on my back on the bed in the adjoining room, the two of them behind me like an escort. Mara climbed on top, her back to me, her hips high, her whole body searching for the angle. She had a way of moving that can’t be learned by watching: either she liked it too much, or she was born for it.

—If you want, I’ll dance —she offered, already starting to do it.

—Do it.

And she danced. Every rise tightened around me, every drop drove me deeper. Once again I had to stop her from making me come too soon. I pulled her off, sat her on my face, and buried my mouth between her legs. She was hot, open, trembling before I even began. It didn’t take long for her to come: her voice cracked, her thighs closed over my temples, and she came apart over me with a cry that was sure to have been heard in the hallway. It had been a long time since I’d enjoyed a woman’s mouth that much.

***

While Mara recovered to one side, panting and laughing to herself, Renata decided it was time to close the show. Up to then she had barely undressed fully; now she did, with calculated slowness, undoing her braid so her hair fell loose over her shoulders. She had the body of someone who knows what she’s worth and doesn’t give it away. She came over, put my cock within reach of her lips, and looked up at me with a calm that was more frightening than any threat.

—Let’s see what you’re made of —I told her, echoing the tone she’d used with me all afternoon—. Make me finish fast and I’ll forgive you everything.

—Don’t rush me —she answered—. I finish things at my own pace.

And she gave it her all: tongue, lips, hands, everything devoted to a single goal. I was almost about to empty into her mouth before the first minute was up. But at the last instant I pulled away, leaned to one side, and came over Mara’s face, as she had knelt beside her friend just in time, as if they had rehearsed it. The blonde got the finish on her forehead, on her lips, on her chin, and she closed her eyes without moving away, smiling through the mess.

Renata looked at her, ran a finger along her cheek, gathered up what she could, and brought it to her friend’s mouth with the easy familiarity of an old accomplice. Then they kissed each other, slowly, sharing what was left, ignoring me for a moment, as if I had only been the excuse for them to meet. I let them. Lying there, my breathing ragged, I watched them laugh and tangle together until exhaustion beat the three of us.

When I got up to look for my clothes, Renata stopped me with a hand on my chest.

—Where are you going so fast? —she said—. This is just getting started. Mara rests for ten minutes and we go again.

I looked toward the bed. Mara, on her back, lifted one hand without opening her eyes and motioned for me to come back. I didn’t argue. Some afternoons aren’t abandoned; you endure them to the end. And this one, clearly, still had plenty left in it.