Sofía Invited a a Stranger Into Our Bed

The idea was Sofía’s, although it took her weeks to say it out loud. We’d been together for almost two years and knew each other’s bodies by heart, that kind of intimacy that becomes comfortable and dangerous at the same time. One night, with the lights off and my head resting on her shoulder, she blurted it out like a confession.

—Have you ever imagined someone else with us? —she asked.

I didn’t answer right away. The truth was, yes, I had imagined it, many times, but I’d never had the courage to put it into words. Hearing her say it first lifted a huge weight off my chest.

—A man —she added, turning to look at me in the dark—. I want to see you with a man. I want to see him fuck you while I watch. And then I want you to see me with his cock inside me.

So we were both thinking the same thing.

From that conversation on, everything changed. We talked about it in the kitchen while we made dinner, like people planning a trip. Sofía opened a profile for the two of us on one of those apps, with photos where our faces couldn’t be seen, and she took care of filtering the candidates with a patience I didn’t have. Most of them lasted two messages. We were looking for someone who understood what we were without needing it explained, someone who would treat me, a trans woman, with the same desire he would give her.

Marcos was different from the start. He wrote slowly, asked questions, demanded nothing. He was thirty-eight, with a calm smile in the few photos he sent, and a way of speaking that was neither shy nor intrusive. We arranged to meet him at a bar downtown before anything else, because that much was clear to us: if either of us felt something was off, it ended there.

Nothing went wrong. Marcos arrived on time, bought the first round, and talked to both of us equally. He didn’t look at me like a curiosity, nor did he avoid looking at me; he looked at me like a woman he wanted, like a female he wanted to fuck. At some point, under the table, Sofía’s knee found mine and I knew she had made up her mind too.

—Do you want to take this somewhere else? —Marcos said, leaving the question hanging in the air.

Sofía squeezed my hand and answered for both of us.

—Our place.

***

The taxi ride was short and silent. I sat in the middle, with one thigh pressed to each of theirs, and I could feel the heat rising through my body at every traffic light. Marcos’s hand rested on my knee and kept going until he brushed over my clothes the bulge already straining between my legs. He didn’t take it away. When Sofía opened the apartment door and turned on only the lamp in the corner, the living room filled with amber light that made everything feel slower.

—Sit down —she said, taking off her shoes—. I’m going to get us something to drink.

Marcos sat next to me on the sofa. He didn’t lunge. He moved the strand that had fallen over my cheek with one finger and asked me in a low voice if I was comfortable. That question, asked in that tone, disarmed me more than any caress. I nodded, and then he kissed me, slowly, his tongue slipping between my lips, giving me time to answer back. His hand was already on my thigh, sliding up under my dress, and when he found me and squeezed me over the fabric of my underwear, I couldn’t hold back a gasp. I was getting hard under the feel of his fingers, and he noticed, and smiled against my mouth.

Sofía came back with three glasses, but only put two on the table. She kept the third in her hand as she settled onto the arm of the sofa, watching us with a half-smile, like a director watching her favorite scene.

—Don’t stop on my account —she said—. I want to see it. I want to see you suck him off.

Marcos’s kiss deepened. His hand moved down my neck, over my neckline, and I felt like my dress was in the way. I took it off myself, unhurried, and let his eyes roam over everything I am: the small, firm breasts hormones had given me, the nipples already hard, the underwear stretched tight by what was between my legs. There wasn’t a shadow of doubt on his face. For me, that means more than sex: that someone desires you completely, without conditions, without asterisks.

Sofía came up behind me and started stroking my breasts with a familiarity that turned Marcos on. She pinched my nipples just right, the way she knows makes me arch my back, while she spoke in my ear.

—Look at his cock, baby —she whispered—. Look how hard he is for you. Take it out. Suck him well, I want to see you with that cock in your mouth.

I unbuttoned his pants with clumsy fingers and pulled it out. It was thick, heavy, the tip already wet with a shining bead. I knelt on the rug between his legs and took him in my mouth without further preamble, all the way down, until he hit the back of my throat and tears sprang to my eyes. Marcos let out a hoarse groan and put his hand on the back of my neck, not pushing, just guiding. I bobbed slowly, coating him in spit, licking his balls, sucking the tip between tight lips while Sofía tugged gently at my hair so she could see my face better, covered in cock.

—Like that, baby, like that —she panted—. Take it all.

Marcos yanked my panties off and took my cock between his fingers, jerking me off while I sucked him. The sensation of having her behind me and him in front, both of them using me, made me moan with a mouth full of cock.

***

We moved into the bedroom without saying it, as if all three of us already knew the choreography. Marcos finished undressing and let me set the pace. I pushed him onto the bed and climbed back onto his cock with my mouth, sucking him from above while Sofía lay down beside me, shucked off her skirt and panties in one motion, and opened her cunt with two fingers so Marcos could see. Her lips were already glossy from how wet she was.

—Come here —he told her, and she swung one leg over his face and shoved her cunt into his mouth without a trace of shame.

I kept sucking him while he ate Sofía’s cunt. I could hear her moaning above me, gripping the headboard, grinding her hips against his tongue, and every so often she would come down to me and look for my mouth, and she and I would kiss with his taste between us and her taste still on his tongue. I licked Sofía’s clit at the same time Marcos slid his tongue inside her, and the two of us made her scream.

—You’re incredible —Marcos murmured, his voice already rough—. Fuckable. Both of you.

I lay down face-first and told him to come over. He positioned himself behind me, spread my ass cheeks with both hands, and spat before pressing the tip against my entrance. He pushed in slowly, attentive to every movement I made, and I felt that thick cock opening me little by little, going in centimeter by centimeter until it filled me completely. I let out a long moan into the pillow.

—Put it all in me —I begged—. Fuck me hard.

Marcos obeyed me. He started driving into me with his hips, picking up speed, and the sound of his thighs slapping against my ass filled the room. Sofía positioned herself in front of me, sat on the edge of the pillow, and spread my legs beside my face. She took me by the nape and brought my mouth to her cunt.

—Eat me while he fucks you —she ordered.

And that’s what I did. I buried my tongue in her soaked cunt, sucked her swollen clit, my eyes locked on hers, while Marcos destroyed me from behind with thrusts that grew more brutal by the second. That connection, having her in front of me while he filled me from behind and made me moan against her flesh, was exactly what we had imagined in the dark on so many nights. My own cock kept rubbing against the sheets with every push, and it hurt from how hard it was.

Pleasure rose in waves, deeper and deeper, until I stopped thinking. Marcos sped up, held my hips with both hands, and warned me with a muffled grunt that he couldn’t hold on much longer.

—Come inside —I begged him, my mouth pressed against Sofía’s cunt—. Fill me, please.

I felt him swell inside me and the hot stream of his cum spilling in gushing bursts all the way to the back. He filled me so much it started dripping down my thighs even before he pulled his cock out. Almost at the same time, my own body surrendered against the sheets in a long orgasm, and I came too, without touching myself, feeling my own seed soaking the bed beneath my belly while I trembled and ran out of air.

Sofía bent down and licked the remnants from my face and neck, with that hunger of hers. Then she moved down my back and pulled my ass cheeks apart with her fingers, and I felt her tongue gathering up Marcos’s cum as it slid out of my ass. I shuddered all over.

—You look so beautiful when you finish —she said, and kissed my temple, the corner of my mouth, and slipped her own tongue into my mouth, still full of him.

***

We took a break, the three of us sprawled on the bed, catching our breath. Marcos brought us water from the kitchen, walking naked through our hallway with his cock hanging heavy between his legs, as if he’d been doing it for years, and the naturalness of it made us laugh. We toasted to how absurd and wonderful the whole thing was. We talked nonsense for a while, with that loose laughter that only appears when you feel safe.

But Sofía hadn’t come just to watch all night, and I hadn’t forgotten the other half of the deal. I saw her look at Marcos’s cock, starting to swell again against her thigh, bite her lip, and I knew what was next.

—Now her —I said, sitting up—. Your turn, baby. Fuck her properly.

Sofía didn’t make herself scarce. She grabbed his cock with her hand, got it fully hard with a few slow strokes, and sucked him for a while, tasting me in him too. Then she climbed on top of him astride, positioned him at her entrance, and dropped down hard, impaling herself all the way with a moan that broke in her throat.

—Fuck —she panted—. You’re huge.

She started moving with that confidence of hers that has always driven me crazy, rising and falling on Marcos’s cock, her tits bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts. I settled behind her on my knees, brushed her hair off her back, and traced her spine with my lips until I reached her nape. I cupped her breasts with both hands, played with her nipples the way she had played with mine, and felt her breathing quicken in my arms.

—Don’t stop —she begged me, her voice breaking—. Keep going, baby.

I bit her shoulder, took one hand down to her clit and started rubbing it in circles while Marcos kept pounding her from below. My own cock, hard again, was pressed between her ass cheeks every time she dropped down. Sofía noticed and reached back for me with her hand.

—Put it in my mouth —she panted, turning her head—. I want to taste you.

I knelt beside her face, my legs spread over Marcos’s shoulder, and she took my cock into her mouth without stopping riding him. She sucked greedily, mouth open, letting saliva slip from the corner of her lips, while Marcos held her hips from below, setting a rhythm that grew firmer and firmer. Watching her lose herself in pleasure, with my cock in her mouth and another one inside her cunt, surrendered between the two of us, turned me on as much as what I had felt a little while before.

—You’re so beautiful like this, baby —I whispered—. So full. Let go. We’ve got you.

Marcos grabbed her tits and sped up from below, fucking her hard, and I kept rubbing her clit with two fingers wet from her own juices. Sofía came with a scream that probably woke more than one neighbor, clenching my cock between her teeth without meaning to, and her whole body shook as she straddled him. She collapsed backward against my chest, and I held her while Marcos, with two or three final savage thrusts, came too inside her with a shudder that ran through his whole body.

When he pulled out, Sofía let herself roll onto the sheets with her legs still open, and I saw his cum spilling out of her cunt. I bent down without thinking and licked her clean, swallowing everything he had left inside her. She looked down at me with glazed eyes, breathing hard, and stroked my hair.

The three of us stayed tangled together, sweaty, with that tired laugh of people who have reached the end of something important.

***

Marcos got dressed when the sky was starting to brighten through the window. There was no awkwardness, none of that typical discomfort of goodbyes. He left his number written on a piece of paper on the kitchen table and said he’d love to do it again if we wanted, no pressure, leaving the door open.

—Thank you —he said, already at the threshold, and he meant it—. You two are something serious.

When we closed the door, Sofía and I stood in the entryway for a moment, holding each other, saying nothing. Then we each made ourselves a sandwich and ate them sitting on the kitchen counter, hair mussed and eyes shining, our thighs still sticky, like two teenagers who had just gotten away with something.

—Do you really want to see him again? —I asked, nibbling my bread.

Sofía smiled over the rim of her cup.

—Of course. Or don’t you?

I didn’t answer with words. I just laughed, got down from the counter, and kissed her, slowly, certain that that night had not been an ending but a beginning. We turned off the light, got into bed, and held each other under the still-warm sheets, with the smell of him still floating between us. I couldn’t say which of us fell asleep first.