The Secret of the Brazilian Neighbor on the Fourth Floor

It had been just over a month since she moved into the fourth floor. An imposing brunette, caramel-skinned and Brazilian by origin, who seemed to have landed in our building from another world. Tall, with very long legs she never bothered to cover, she wore them with a pride that brooked no argument.

She had a dark face, full lips, a fine nose, black eyes like coal pits, and a mass of curly hair that fell to the middle of her back. When she spoke, her Portuguese accent caressed Spanish in a way that left me at a loss halfway through every sentence.

Rumors about her ran through the stairwell. Some said she worked nights, some said she made her living in front of a camera, some said she lived off something no one dared name out loud. Those who knew something kept quiet, and those who didn’t made things up. I limited myself to glancing at her out of the corner of my eye every time we crossed paths.

The one who made the first move was Carla, my wife. Carla is like that: direct, curious, unable to live with a doubt. She started by greeting her in the entrance hall, then chatting on the landing, and in less than two weeks they were already going up and down together as if they’d known each other all their lives. If Carla found out anything, she didn’t tell me. She preferred to keep the secret for a better occasion.

One Friday I got home from work exhausted and found the two of them sitting on our sofa, chatting over a couple of cups of coffee like old friends.

Carla looked splendid, as always. She was wearing lycra leggings that outlined her hips and her perky ass as if she had nothing on, and a short boat-neck blouse that left her freckled redhead shoulders and a good stretch of belly bare. She has small, firm breasts, and under that thin fabric you could make out her hard nipples. She looked at me with those blue, mischievous eyes, smiling as if to say: take that, I’ve already got the upper hand.

The guest was breathtaking. She wore a silk top with her back completely bare and generous breasts spilling out at the sides. A tiny denim short left her belly button exposed and half of a pair of dark, hard, perky butt cheeks.

—Honey, make yourself comfortable and join us —Carla said to me with that smile I knew all too well.

While I was taking off my street clothes in the bedroom, I couldn’t get the image of the two of them together on my living room sofa out of my head. When I came out, I sat facing them with my cup of coffee and devoted myself to watching the show. I knew I was missing something, some important conversation, but I wasn’t in a hurry to find out what. It would come.

—I’m so tense from work —the Brazilian woman commented, stretching her neck.

Carla didn’t need anything more. She moved behind her on the sofa and started massaging her shoulders.

—Relax, you’re at home —she whispered.

Dayane, as she was called, closed her eyes and let herself be handled. I watched my wife lean over her, pressing her breasts against her neck, and her hands slowly moving down the front until they enveloped her breasts. First over the fabric. Then, seeing the other woman didn’t object, underneath, seeking out the dark nipples to twist them gently.

Carla kissed her neck and traced her ear with the tip of her tongue as she slowly but surely lifted the top. Dayane raised her arms to help. At last I could see those huge breasts exposed, the nipples almost black, small and hard as pebbles.

My wife motioned with her hand for me not to move yet. She spread her legs and trapped her friend between her thighs, stripped off her own blouse in one tug, and kept playing with those generous breasts. She smiled at me over Dayane’s shoulder, provocative, offering me that pair of tits as if they were a gift. Only then did she raise a finger and beckon me over.

I knelt between the Brazilian woman’s open thighs and went for her mouth. Her lips parted at once and her tongue came out to meet mine. I felt four hands on my skin: hers and Carla’s, pulling me closer to the bodies of the two of them. I pulled away for a moment.

—What if we go to the bed? We’ll be more comfortable there —I suggested.

I stood up and took them by the hands. I put my arms around their waists, drew them against me, and kissed both of them at once, a three-tongued kiss growing more and more lewd, saliva dripping down to our breasts. Thank God none of us still had a T-shirt on. Carla had to drag us to the bedroom before we ended up fucking in the middle of the living room.

***

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, they both tugged down my sweatpants and left my stiff cock within reach of their mouths. Dayane turned out to be an expert: she took a good part of it in one go, while Carla attended to my shaved balls with her tongue.

Since she knew exactly what I like, my wife knelt behind me, spread my ass cheeks with her hands, and started licking me. While she treated me to one of her anthology-worthy rim jobs, the guest swallowed my cock to the hilt, something Carla had never managed.

They didn’t spend long on me. It wasn’t the time for me to come so soon, no matter how much I would have deserved it. They stood up beside me and at last I could put my hands on the roundness of their asses, still covered by their clothes.

Carla quickly freed herself from the leggings. While I was kissing the Brazilian woman deeply, my wife knelt at our feet and started lowering the tiny denim shorts. Underneath there was a thong that had already stopped serving its purpose: from one side a long, slender, very hard cock was escaping, and it went straight to Carla’s eager lips.

That was the secret my neighbors had kept all afternoon. That our beautiful fourth-floor neighbor had been born in a different body, and that her night work was no mystery to anyone who knew her schedule. An expert in sexual matters, devoted and lustful like few others.

I still hadn’t noticed, my hands busy with those huge breasts, until Carla, playful, crossed the two cocks and put them both in her mouth together. At least the two glans, because nothing more would fit. I looked down and saw the caliber Dayane had to offer. I wasn’t as surprised as she expected; I had suspected something.

—Nice cock, and it seems very hard —I told her.

—Thanks. Yours is very nice too —she replied with a smile.

I ran a hand over her ass and, with a finger made slick by Carla’s saliva, sought out her asshole until I was lost inside. My wife was on fire to see me fuck that huge ass, and she also wanted the Brazilian to fuck both of us. We had the whole afternoon and part of the night ahead of us; Dayane had the day off.

—I want you to fuck me, baby —Carla asked her.

She lay back on the bed and called her into the space between her wide-open thighs. When Dayane brought her hips close, my wife grabbed that cock with her hand and guided it into her cunt, leaving me the Brazilian’s ass thrust out nicely. Propped on the edge of the mattress and leaning over Carla, it was the perfect position for me to eat it.

—What a beautiful ass —I murmured.

I started by kissing the dark cheeks as they moved slowly while fucking my wife. I parted them with my hands and let my tongue travel along the entire slit until I found the tight asshole. I moistened it, brushed it with the tip, let it open to my touch. Dayane moaned with her cock inside Carla’s cunt and my tongue in her ass. I devoted a good while to it, not because she needed it, but because I wanted to.

—You eat it so well. I wouldn’t have expected that from you —she said between gasps.

I reached for the lubricant in a hurry and started to sink into her slowly, holding those muscular cheeks with my hands. The hole opened under the pressure of my well-lubricated glans. Since she could barely support herself on Carla, I was the one setting the pace of the three-way fucking, gripping her hip hard.

—And you fuck it even better —she panted.

Every time I thrust, she sank into Carla; when I pulled back, she pulled on her. The two of them were kissing furiously, exchanging tongue and spit. My awkward position on the edge of the bed helped me hold out without coming. But I could feel Carla coming apart under our attentions. Dayane held out hard for quite a while, I suppose because she was used to the trade, until I unloaded inside her ass and she came at the same time.

We leaned together over Carla’s open cunt to lick it, our tongues crossing over her lips. I loved that the Brazilian was as filthy and willing as we were. My wife came once or twice more with that treatment.

***

We took a break to recover our strength. We left Dayane in the middle of the bed to caress her at our leisure and discover every inch of her body. Every so often we bent down to kiss her breasts, nibble her nipples, lick her neck and armpits while resting our heads in her pits. She turned her face from one of us to the other, looking for our tongues.

—Turn over, Dayane —Carla asked her—. I want to taste your ass. You’ve already seen how I do it to Diego.

The Brazilian rolled onto her stomach and I gave my wife the place, because I had already tasted it before fucking her. Seeing Carla eat the guest’s ass, knowing how well she did it when I was the one receiving those attentions, got me hard again. My wife ran her tongue along the slit, sinking into the asshole, while one hand slipped under Dayane’s body to fondle her dark balls and the cock, which was hard again.

Meanwhile I was kissing the Brazilian woman, exchanging saliva mouth to mouth, and it was she who stroked my cock, firmer and firmer. Carla knew exactly what she wanted to see, and I, as a good husband, am incapable of denying her anything. She put Dayane faceup again and looked at me.

—Now it’s your turn, darling.

She retrieved the tube of lubricant from among the rumpled sheets and prepared my asshole with two fingers before smearing Dayane’s cock.

—Are you going to ride it? —the Brazilian woman asked.

—Of course.

—What a pair of perverts you are —she laughed.

I climbed onto Dayane’s hips and slowly started sinking onto her cock, feeling it enter me centimeter by centimeter. It wasn’t my first time, or I would never have accepted something of that caliber. Carla fucks me now and then with one of her toys, and by now I know my own body well.

When I was seated all the way down, with the cock buried to the hilt, Carla settled herself in front of me over Dayane’s face, which wasted no time in licking her cunt and ass at the same time. My wife and I were kissing with so much lust and so much saliva that it dripped down onto the Brazilian woman’s dark belly. I clung to Carla’s breasts as if to a life raft, while my cock pointed hard as a rock toward her belly.

The three of us moaned, though Dayane could hardly be heard with her tongue busy between Carla’s legs, her hands holding her cheeks apart. My wife caressed my cock from time to time, with no intention of making me come; she was saving me for herself. I didn’t stop until I felt my ass full of semen, and even then I kept going a little longer, until the cock inside me lost its hardness.

—Now I want to ride you —Carla announced, having appointed herself mistress of ceremonies.

She laid me on my back near the edge of the bed, with my legs hanging down. She climbed on top of me facing my feet and started sinking my cock into her ass slowly, without hurry. Dayane, without needing anyone to tell her anything, knelt between my legs and kept using her expert tongue on both of them: as soon as she was sucking my balls, she was back up at Carla’s open cunt, which she offered her with her legs spread. I knew my wife’s flexibility, but I had only ever seen that position in movies.

Everything has its end, and with so much excitement I came to orgasm inevitably. My semen was oozing from Carla’s asshole, and Dayane didn’t miss the chance to lick it up without letting my wife get down off me.

***

We took the opportunity for a real break and had something to eat. Of course, we asked her to stay the night, and it wasn’t the only night she spent with us, until her demanding work forced her to move to another city.

We’ve even slipped away a few times since then to see her and spend the night with her in some hotel. We’ve even seen her do a striptease in a club, surrounded by other couples and lone men willing to pay for her company. But no night was like that first Friday when we discovered the secret of the fourth-floor neighbor.