I Wanted the Neighbors to Look at My Wife

It was our first getaway alone in years. Ever since the girls had arrived, the desire between Marina and me had gradually cooled without either of us ever saying it out loud. The exhaustion, work, routines: everything conspired against us. So much so that we ended up sitting across from a couples therapist who, among other things, recommended something simple. A trip. A week without schedules, obligations, with our minds open to recovering what we had once had.

Before the girls, Marina had been different. She enjoyed provoking people. She didn't mind going topless in a secluded cove, or letting me take pictures of her, or playing with people's gazes when we went out to dinner. I had always liked that about her: knowing that other people were looking at her and that she enjoyed it just as much as I did. Over time, that side of her faded. She came home exhausted, covered herself up, avoided the mirror. And I kept my old fantasy in a drawer I hardly ever opened anymore.

I rented a little house in a small coastal development, nothing like a hotel or a luxury resort. Six homes with back patios and a communal swimming pool shared by all of them. Quiet, discreet, perfect.

—Will you at least go topless? —I asked her while we were packing. I knew I was pushing my luck.

—Here you go again —she replied, half joking, half serious—. I don't feel comfortable doing that, you know.

—Okay, okay. But let me choose the swimsuits, at least.

I put on my best good-boy face and, to my surprise, she agreed. That same week we went shopping together: three bikinis, a couple of light dresses, a pair of shorts. I chose everything while thinking about how each piece would look on her under the sun.

***

We arrived on Friday afternoon. The house surprised both of us: a spacious living room, a huge sofa, an open kitchen, and upstairs two bedrooms with a bathroom that even had a whirlpool tub. Out back, the patio opened directly onto the pool through a little gate.

—How did you find this bargain? —Marina said, letting herself fall onto the bed—. I already feel better.

—You rest. I'll put the clothes away.

—If you ask me like that, I'll do as I'm told. And as a thank-you, here you go.

She took off her T-shirt and bra in a lazy gesture, without any drama, simply looking for comfort after the journey. She lay on her side, in her underwear, with her back to me and a curve I knew by heart. She had put on a little weight after the girls, but I liked her better that way, with more body to hold on to. I watched her for a moment longer than I should have. I loved seeing her naked. And I loved, though it was hard to admit it, imagining other people seeing her.

I finished putting everything away and, since she had fallen asleep, went down to the pool alone. It was six o'clock, and the heat was beginning to ease.

There was a couple there, somewhat older than us. He was muscular and tanned, with a beard touched with gray, stretched out in the sun. She was slim and blonde, with an easy smile. I went over so we wouldn't have to shout.

—Hi. Are you the new ones? —he asked, sitting up.

—Yes, for a week. Sergio, right? —I had seen the name on the mailbox.

—That's me. And she's Patricia. The house is ours; we rent it out the rest of the year. If you need anything, just let us know.

We chatted for a while about beaches and hidden coves. Patricia recommended one half an hour away by car, far from the weekend crowds. They were friendly and easygoing, the kind of neighbors who treated you as if they'd known you forever after five minutes.

—And where did you leave your wife? —Sergio asked with a half smile—. You're not one of those bossy husbands, are you?

—Not at all. I organized everything. She got naked and passed out on the bed.

I blurted it out without thinking. Why did I say that? I had just told two strangers that my wife was naked inside the house. I said goodbye, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, and went back with that sentence bouncing around in my head and, beneath it, an arousal I didn't want to acknowledge.

***

When I went inside, Marina was still the same, wandering around the kitchen wearing nothing but her panties, looking for something to snack on. I saw her through the window before I opened the door.

—Careful, the neighbors are going to see you —I said, half joking.

—No way. You're the one who likes that —she replied without turning around—. Where are the cookies? I got so hungry…

—We didn't buy any, remember?

—Aww. So what am I supposed to do with this craving?

—You could go ask the neighbors for something —I said, heating things up—. Like that.

—You're crazy. Showing up at their door when we don't know them at all, asking for a snack… —She laughed, but she didn't shut me down.

—Maybe they don't have cookies. The guy seems nice; I'm sure he'll give you something.

—You don't miss a thing. You go ask them yourself. Something with chocolate.

—Okay, but on one condition. I got hungry too.

I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. The heat in the house, the journey, the change of air: something in her had come loose. She turned around and let me. What happened next on that sofa was the closest we'd been in a long time. I helped her lie down, slowly lifted her shirt to move it away from her body, and pulled her panties down just enough to see her open beneath my hands. Her skin was hot, her pussy already wet and glistening, waiting. I parted her thighs with my knee and, while I kissed her neck, ran my fingertips over her folds until I made her moan softly, first in surprise and then with desire. She grabbed the back of my neck and asked for more with that urgency of hers that had been asleep for months.

—Fuck, Marcos… don't stop.

I pulled down my pants, took out my already hard cock, and pressed it against her entrance, feeling her whole body tense. I entered slowly, with one controlled thrust, until I filled her completely. Marina let out a long moan, her nails digging into my back, and I stayed still for a second, savoring the tight heat of her pussy wrapped around my cock. Then I began to move, slowly at first, then harder, pounding exactly where she asked me to with her hips. The sofa creaked with every thrust, and she opened her legs wider, offering herself without shame, panting now without holding back.

—That's it, that's it… give me your cock, you bastard —she whispered, unleashed, her face flushed.

I grabbed her breasts over the bra she was still wearing half-on, squeezing them until she arched her back. She answered by pressing her ass against my hands, moving her hips to seek more friction. I looked into her eyes and saw something I had been missing for a long time: pure, obscene desire, a hunger to be fucked. I licked her ear, bit her shoulder, and every time I drove my cock deeper inside her, I felt her tremble, getting closer and closer to coming.

—Look at me, Marina. I want to see you when you come.

—Don't talk to me like that… —she said, though she was already lost—. You're driving me crazy.

I ran a finger over her clitoris, wet and hard, while I kept thrusting in and out of her with sharp strokes. She cried out my name, gripped the edge of the sofa, and began to move in little spasms, her pussy closing and opening around my cock. I felt her tremble first in her legs, then in her belly, then all over her body. She came with a broken moan, so loudly that I had to cover her mouth with my hand so the whole house wouldn't hear. The spasm squeezed my cock with delicious force, and I kept fucking her a little longer, stretching out her orgasm until she was soaked and exhausted beneath me.

When I finished, I got dressed to go fetch her famous snack.

—I loved it, darling —she said, stretching out on the sofa with that after-sex smile I hadn't seen on her face in months.

***

By the pool, only Patricia was left. I asked her if there was somewhere nearby where I could buy something sweet.

—No need —she said, gathering up her towel—. We have plenty at home. Sergio will bring some up to you; he already went upstairs. If you need anything, we live in the house at the far end.

I went back and told Marina:

—The neighbor is coming to bring you something for your snack.

—What do you mean, he's coming? —She sprang to her feet.

She put on an oversized house T-shirt and a pair of shorts. The fabric hung loosely, but the shape of her breasts could still be made out beneath the cotton. We sat down and pretended to watch television until someone knocked at the door.

I opened it. It was Sergio, holding a box of sweets.

—Hey, Marcos. Patricia told me you were hungry. Is your wife still asleep?

—No, she's right there. Marina, come meet the neighbor.

She came out, a little flushed. They exchanged the customary two kisses on the cheeks.

—Here's your snack, miss. You never told me your wife was so beautiful, Marcos. You were keeping that quiet.

—I wanted it to be a surprise —I blurted out, not really knowing what to say.

—Well, I'll leave you to it. Another day you can invite us for coffee, and we'll call it even. See you later.

I closed the door. Marina was as red as a tomato.

—Well? Did you get nervous? —I asked.

—I wasn't expecting that. How forward. When he kissed me, he grabbed my waist almost… almost underneath. And did you see the way he was looking at me?

—Of course. You look incredibly hot. His wife isn't half as attractive as you are —I told her, grabbing her breasts over her T-shirt—. You should have thanked him for the snack the way you thanked me earlier.

—Yes, sure. Have me for dessert instead of the sweets? —she laughed.

—Not that. But you could have shown him something, couldn't you?

—Is that what you want, Marcos? For your wife to show her breasts to a stranger because he brought her some sweets?

—Well… you know it's one of my fantasies.

She leaned toward my ear and lowered her voice.

—What else? Let him look at them up close? Let me feel that bulge showing in his swimsuit this afternoon?

—You looked at it, you little tease.

—No. You told me about it. Nothing gets past you.

We had been together too many years. She knew exactly where to press. Hearing her talk about showing herself, about being desired by someone else, turned me on intensely even though we would never cross that line. It was the game, not the outcome, that aroused us.

—Maybe after my snack I'll stop by his house to see what else he has —she whispered, biting her lip.

—Stop, Marina, you're driving me crazy.

—Hehehe. I don't know how you can like this sort of thing. Relax, I was only playing —she said, and kissed me—. But at least topless tomorrow, right?

—I told you no before we came. Don't push it; it's only the first day. Playing is one thing, and taking it further is another. You choose my bikini for tomorrow, come on.

***

I brought it to her, and she tried it on right there in the living room. A simple blue one, but it pushed her breasts together and lifted them, revealing two moles she had, one on each side, still pale because the sun hadn't reached them. I chose it for the top; the bottom was modest. I wanted to take things slowly.

—I thought you'd bring out the white one already —she said, turning in front of the mirror.

—I don't know what kind of man you take me for —I replied, and we both laughed.

We went down to the pool until nine. I swam laps while she read in the shade and only went into the water for a little while. Sergio stepped out onto his patio for a moment, waved, and went back inside, but I noticed how his eyes lingered on my wife for a second longer than necessary. And I also noticed how Marina slowly adjusted her bikini, knowing she was being watched. She said nothing. She didn't have to.

We went back to the house and showered together. One thing led to another, and we ended up tangled beneath the hot water, laughing as we hadn't laughed in years. I soaped her breasts, knelt for a moment to kiss her belly, then turned her around and pressed her against the wall, water running over our skin. She slipped her hand between my legs, felt my cock hard again, and burst out laughing, happy to see me so aroused. I ran my tongue over her collarbone, parted her legs with my knee, and fucked her right there, standing up, pressed against the tiles, her lips parted and her breathing ragged. The water struck our backs as I entered her again and again, more brutally, more wildly, as if we wanted to reclaim all the lost months at once. Every thrust drew a short moan from her. Every time she asked for more, I gave it to her deeper. She ended up trembling again, her hands against the wall and her pussy squeezing me so tightly it almost made me come too soon. It took me a little longer, holding back, listening to her pant my name in a voice worn raw.

Later, in bed, while I held her, I could think only of the scene by the pool: the neighbor's gaze and the smile she had tried to hide. I didn't say anything so I wouldn't overwhelm her.

—What should we do tomorrow? —she asked before falling asleep.

—Have breakfast, buy groceries, and go to that cove they recommended. And the pool in the afternoon.

—And do you already know what you're going to put me in tomorrow? —she asked, with a smile that wasn't entirely innocent.

—I'm thinking about it —I lied, because I had already decided.

—Tell me, come on. Now I'm intrigued.

—I'll save the surprise for tomorrow —I replied.

And while she settled against my chest and fell asleep, I stayed awake for quite a while, knowing that one way or another, that week we were going to recover far more than the therapist had in mind.