My Wife Wanted My Friends to Watch Her That Night

Marina and I had spent years feeding the same fantasy without daring to take it all the way. It started as an innocent game: a photo of her reclining on the bed, her face outside the frame, which I sent to an anonymous forum just to read what strangers wrote. She liked it. She liked it more than either of us wanted to admit that first night.

—What did they say? —she would ask me afterward, pretending not to care as she bit her lip.

—Things —I would reply—. Things I won’t repeat unless you earn them.

And she earned them. She always earned them. She would kneel between my legs, pull my trousers down with her teeth, and take out my half-hard cock to put the whole thing in her mouth, all the way to the back, until tears sprang to her eyes and her makeup ran down her cheeks. She sucked me while reading aloud, mouth full, the filthiest comments the guys from the forum had written to me. “This guy says he’d wreck your pussy,” she would whisper with my cock between her lips, and then swallow it down to her throat again. She would make herself come, touching herself, while I emptied my cum onto her face and she gathered it up with her tongue without missing a drop.

For months, that was enough for us. The pictures, the comments, the certainty that men we would never see were looking at her and wanting her from the other side of a screen. But screens have a ceiling, and one Sunday morning, with her still tousled against my chest, I said it out loud for the first time.

—I want to take it one step further. Something real. Live.

Marina slowly lifted her head. She didn’t tell me I was crazy, though she thought it. She told me with her eyes, and then with a smile that took three seconds too long to appear.

—Explain —she murmured.

I explained. My two best friends, Diego and Tomás, would come over on Saturday, as they had so many times before. We would have dinner, drink, and talk about soccer and work. And at some point during the night, she would stop being the perfect hostess and become the woman from my pictures. In front of them. With them watching her.

—I can’t —she said, her breathing speeding up as she said it—. What will they think of me?

—Nothing they aren’t already thinking —I replied—. That you’ve got a pussy they drool over just imagining. That they jerk off thinking about you after every dinner.

She dug her nails into my thigh when she heard that, and I felt her press herself against my leg, already wet beneath her nightgown.

—Keep talking like that —she panted, sliding my hand up and placing it between her tits—. Keep going.

I fucked her right there without taking off her nightgown, moving her panties aside with two fingers. She was so soaked that I thrust all the way inside her in one stroke, and she let out a hoarse moan that filled my mouth. I fucked her thinking about Diego and Tomás watching us, and two minutes later she came screaming that yes, she wanted it, that we should do whatever we wanted. There was a long silence while she caught her breath, my cock still inside her, her pussy squeezing me in small spasms. Then she asked me a question that changed everything.

—What if I don’t want to remember their faces the next day? What if I need an excuse to let myself go?

That was where the game was born.

***

The idea had been hers, although I sold Diego and Tomás the opposite story. Marina had read about erotic hypnosis, those videos where someone pretends to fall into a trance and does things they would never do while awake. She didn’t believe in any of it, of course. But it gave her an alibi: if she seemed asleep in front of them, she could allow herself anything without the weight of shame. An actress playing the woman she had always wanted, deep down, to be.

We rehearsed all week. I would say a silly phrase, snap my fingers, and she would close her eyes and surrender to the character. We practiced the gestures, the rhythm, how far she would go and where she would stop. We agreed on a safe word: if she said “coffee,” the game would end immediately, no questions asked. We repeated it so many times that by Friday she no longer trembled at the thought of it. She did tremble, yes, but from something else.

The rehearsals always ended the same way. She would be naked in the center of the living room, eyes closed and legs slightly parted, while I gave her quiet orders to see how long she could maintain the act. “Touch your tits,” I would tell her, and she would pinch her nipples until they were hard as stones. “Put two fingers inside,” and she would open her pussy with one hand and push her middle and index fingers in up to the knuckles, pulling them out shiny with juices. I would put her on all fours on the rug, spread her ass cheeks with my hands, and eat her pussy from behind while she stayed “asleep,” biting her lip to keep from screaming. I would drive my tongue into her ass and lick her from bottom to top, unhurriedly, until she came against my mouth without opening her eyes. Then I would stand her up, grab her hair, and push my cock down her throat until she gagged. I would finish by coming on her back, watching streams of cum run down her spine to the cleft of her ass. “Perfect,” I would tell her. “Exactly the same on Saturday.”

—You’re going to be there the whole time —she told me the night before, hugging me from behind—. You’re the one who’s really watching me. They’re just the scenery.

—It’ll be me —I promised her.

***

They arrived at nine on Saturday. Diego with a bottle of wine, Tomás with the easy laugh he’d had since university. Marina greeted them in a simple black dress, her hair pinned up, her lips barely made up. She looked spectacular without seeming to try, and I noticed Tomás give her the once-over before greeting her with two kisses. She wasn’t wearing anything beneath the dress, no panties and no bra, and only she and I knew that.

Dinner was long and relaxed. We talked about everything and nothing. Marina laughed, served food, filled glasses, and only I noticed that every so often she sought my gaze to make sure the plan was still on. I held her eyes for a moment. I’m here. Whenever you’re ready. Every time she bent down to pick up a plate, the dress tightened over her ass, and I could see her nipples outlined beneath the fabric perfectly. Diego was getting nervous. Tomás was drinking faster than usual.

She was the one who set things in motion. She served the after-dinner coffee and, as she sat down, dropped the line as casually as if she were commenting on the weather.

—Has this guy told you about the course he’s taking?

—What course? —Diego asked.

—Hypnosis —I said, playing it down—. Some silly thing I saw online.

Tomás burst out laughing.

—Oh, come on. It’s all a scam, a way to fleece people. It doesn’t work on anyone.

—It works —Marina said, taking a sip—. It works on me. Right, darling?

They both looked at me. I shrugged, as though it were difficult for me to admit.

—I’ll prove it if you promise me one thing: whatever happens here stays here.

Diego and Tomás exchanged a look. Curiosity won out over disbelief.

—Deal —Tomás said—. But nothing’s going to happen.

Marina had already stood up in the center of the living room, her hands folded in front of her, waiting. I approached, asked her to look into my eyes, and said the same silly phrase as always. I snapped my fingers.

And my wife closed her eyes and let her shoulders fall.

***

The silence in the living room grew dense. Diego set his glass down on the table without making a sound, as though he were afraid of waking her. Tomás leaned forward on the sofa, all trace of mockery gone.

—Is she... —he began.

—Quiet —I whispered—. Watch.

I positioned myself behind her and spoke softly and slowly, measuring every word as we had rehearsed.

—Marina, it’s very hot in here. Too hot for that dress.

She raised her hands to the straps with a slowness that was anything but unconscious, though they didn’t know that. She slipped them over her shoulders, one first and then the other. The dress fell to her waist and then to the floor, and she pushed it aside with her foot without opening her eyes. There was nothing underneath. Not a single garment. Her tits suddenly stood exposed, round and firm, their nipples already erect, and her shaved pussy gleamed beneath the lamp, marked by a trail of moisture that had been building up all through dinner.

I heard Diego hold his breath. Tomás had gone completely still, his glass halfway to his mouth.

—Fuck —Tomás murmured—. Fuck, fuck.

Marina remained standing in the center of the living room, completely naked, bathed in the warm light of the floor lamp. I knew her by heart, had seen that body a thousand nights, and yet seeing it through their eyes made it new. She was mine, and at the same time she was offering herself to the gaze of two men who didn’t dare even blink.

—Keep going —I murmured—. You have nothing to hide tonight. Touch your tits for them.

She brought her hands to her breasts and slowly kneaded them, circling her thumbs over her nipples until they were so hard they stood out like stones. She pinched them, tugged at them, released them. Then one hand slid slowly down her belly and stopped just above her pussy. She spread her lips with two fingers, showing them everything, letting them see how it gleamed inside, pink and soaked, contracting simply from knowing it was being watched.

Diego unconsciously put his hand to his crotch. Tomás swallowed so hard we could hear it from across the room.

I told you I was the one in charge.

***

—Fuck, man —Tomás breathed—. If she wakes up, she’ll kill us.

—She’s not going to wake up —I said—. She’s exactly where she wants to be.

Diego hadn’t said a word. His hands rested on his knees, his knuckles tense, and an obvious erection strained against his trousers. He watched Marina with a mixture of desire and guilt that made him sweat. It was exactly what she had wanted to provoke.

—She can do more —I said, my own voice sounding strange to me—. If you want to see.

Neither of them said no.

I turned toward her.

—Marina, sit on the sofa. In the middle. You’re home alone, no one is watching you, and you really want to come.

She sat between them, right in the gap they left by moving to either side as though propelled by a spring. She rested her head against the back, put her feet on the edge of the sofa, and spread her knees until she was completely open, offering her gaping pussy a foot from each man’s face. Diego looked away for a second, as though asking the ceiling for permission, then looked back at her, unable to do anything else. Tomás hadn’t taken his eyes off her once.

She lowered her right hand down her belly and stroked her pussy with her open palm, from top to bottom, unhurriedly. Then she spread herself open with two fingers in a V, showing them her swollen clitoris, and began massaging it in slow circles. With her other hand she grabbed one of her tits and squeezed it in rhythm, tugging at the nipple every time she exhaled. One finger slid down, slipped between her wet lips, and sank inside. Then another. Then one more. She pushed three fingers all the way in front of my two friends, moving them with an obscene squelch that filled the entire room.

—Oh, fuck —she moaned, unable to hold it back, and they both jerked at the sound of her voice—. That feels so fucking good.

Diego openly squeezed his cock through his trousers. Tomás was breathing raggedly, mouth open, eyes fixed on the fingers entering and leaving my wife’s pussy. The wet sound of her fingers fucking her was the only thing we could hear, along with her increasingly deep moans. She pulled her fingers out, glistening and dripping, and brought them to her mouth, sucking them one by one in front of them. Then she lowered her hand again and pushed them back inside, even deeper this time, curling them inside to touch the place she knew would make her explode.

I watched them as much as I watched her. That was my true pleasure: seeing the effect my wife had on two men who thought they were keeping a secret, when the only real secret was the one she and I shared. I had pulled my cock out inside my pocket and was squeezing it silently, watching Diego and Tomás melt in front of my wife without being able to touch her.

—Would either of you like to...? —Tomás began, then stopped himself, frightened by his own words—. Fuck, if I could...

—No —I replied gently—. Just watch. Tonight, you only watch.

Marina smiled with her eyes half-closed when she heard that. It was her limit, the one we had agreed on Monday in the kitchen, and seeing it respected aroused her even more. She sped up, rubbing her clitoris faster, fucking herself with three fingers until it hurt. She suddenly arched her back, her thighs tensed, and she let out a hoarse, genuine cry as she came in front of all three of us. Her pussy clenched around her own fingers in visible spasms, and a thread of fluid ran down the inside of her thigh and stained the sofa. She kept trembling for nearly a minute, shaken by aftershocks, while Diego and Tomás watched without breathing, their cocks hard as rocks inside the trousers they didn’t dare touch.

***

When she finished, she remained motionless for a few seconds, catching her breath, her legs still spread and her throbbing pussy on display. Then she picked up her dress with the same calm with which she had taken it off and pulled it on, without fully covering herself. I snapped my fingers and said the closing phrase.

—Three, two, one. Wake up.

Marina blinked, looked around as if she didn’t understand anything, and brought one hand to her chest.

—What...? What happened? Why are you looking at me like that?

It was a flawless performance. Diego and Tomás dissolved into a rush of apologies, swearing that nothing had happened, that it had only been a demonstration of the course. Marina pretended at polite embarrassment and went into the kitchen for more coffee, brushing my hand as she passed.

They left soon afterward, too nervous to stay, promising amid awkward laughter that they would never tell anyone. Both of them walked strangely to the door, their erections still not entirely gone down. I closed the door and leaned against it.

Marina appeared in the hallway, with no trace left of the sleeping woman, wearing the smile only I know. As she reached me, she let the dress slip from her shoulders and was naked again, her pussy still glistening from her earlier orgasm.

—Well? —she asked—. Did you like watching them watch you watching me?

—You knew exactly what you were doing —I said—. You weren’t asleep for a second.

—Not for a second —she admitted, moving closer—. But they needed to believe it. And you needed to see me like that.

She knelt in front of me in the entryway, pulled my already-swollen cock from my fly, and swallowed it whole in a single motion. She sucked me with a fury I had never known in her, choking, spitting, swallowing saliva mixed with her juices. She pulled me from her mouth only to spit on it and put it back down her throat. Then she stood, dragged me into the hallway, braced her hands against the wall, and spread her legs.

—Put it in me now —she panted—. I’ve been thinking about this for two hours.

I buried it inside her in one thrust, all the way to the hilt. She was so soaked that I slid in without resistance, and she let out a guttural moan that echoed down the hallway. I fucked her from behind with all the strength I had, gripping her hips, watching her ass bounce against my pelvis with every blow. I reached around her with one arm and grabbed a breast, pinched her nipple, bit her shoulder. She thrust her ass backward to take me deeper, moaning scattered words: “more,” “like that,” “eat me whole.”

—Think about Diego —I whispered in her ear without stopping—. Think about Tomás. About how they drooled watching you come.

She came again at that, squeezing my cock with her pussy in violent spasms that nearly made me come too. I held out, turned her around, laid her on her back on the hallway floor, lifted her legs to her shoulders, and pushed back inside her, this time pounding her hard. I fucked her while looking into her eyes, watching her tits move with every thrust, watching her bite her knuckles to keep from screaming even louder than she already was. When I held out for the final second, I pulled out, straightened her with one tug, and emptied my entire load onto her face, her tits, and her open mouth. She gathered it up with her fingers and carried it to her tongue without looking away from me.

She kissed me slowly, still with semen shining on her chin and her body alight from two hours of being desired.

—Next time —she whispered against my mouth— I make the rules. And next time I’ll let them touch.

I didn’t argue. That night I learned something I would never forget: the person who thought he was directing the game wasn’t me, and certainly wasn’t my friends. It was her. It had always been her. And the mere thought of next time kept me awake until dawn.