We Saw Our Guest Through the Dressing Room Camera

My name is Carolina, and I had been married to Andrés for eight years when it all began. We loved each other, of course, but routine had deflated us from the inside out. We ate dinner watching television, slept back to back, and Sundays came and went without either of us feeling like suggesting anything.

Sofía appeared at the gym one morning in February. We shared a machine, then coffee, then entire confessions. She was younger than me, maybe seven or eight years, with shoulder-length brown hair and legs that drew anyone’s attention. I laughed at my own things with her; she told me hers. I talked to her about Andrés without shame, confessed that nothing was happening in bed anymore, that it had been months since he’d fucked me, that sometimes I went into the bathroom to finger myself because he didn’t even notice, and she listened without judging me.

One afternoon, while we were changing in the locker room, our faces ended up a breath apart. There was a strange moment, as if we were about to kiss. Neither of us moved, and in the end we just laughed. I had never noticed a woman like that before, but that night I thought about her while I showered alone, with my fingers between my legs and hot water running over my breasts. I came imagining her tongue sliding down my belly.

A few weeks later she called me. Her landlord was going to do renovations in her apartment and she needed a place to sleep for a couple of weeks. I didn’t hesitate. Upstairs we had a guest room with its own bathroom and a small dressing room, so I told her to come without thinking twice.

She arrived on a Friday with two suitcases and a very short cotton dress. I introduced her to Andrés, we had dinner together with wine, and everything flowed. I was surprised to see my husband more talkative than usual. He laughed at her jokes, refilled her glass before she finished. I watched him out of the corner of my eye and, far from bothering me, it made me feel something like curiosity.

That night, already in bed, Andrés put his book aside and remembered something.

—Carolina, I forgot to disconnect the guest dressing room camera. We installed it when the builders came, remember?

—Then disconnect it tomorrow —I told him half asleep—. I don’t want it recording anything of Sofía.

He promised me he would. And the next day he forgot again.

***

On Saturday afternoon, Sofía went up to the dressing room with a couple of dresses hanging from her arm. I was downstairs in the living room with Andrés, looking at the tablet where the house cameras’ feed came through. When the dressing room image opened, the two of us looked at each other.

—Andrés, turn that off. We’re invading her privacy.

—I’m going, I’m going. I just want to show you what I was watching of the football and then I’ll take it off.

He didn’t turn it off. And I, why lie, didn’t insist either. Sofía took off the dress she was wearing and stood in front of the mirror in her underwear. She started trying on another one, took a couple of selfies with her phone, and left it on the dresser. It looked good on her. Anything looked good on her.

What came next surprised me. She took off her bra too, slowly, as if she were alone in the world. Her tits were smaller than mine, rounded, with very pale nipples already erect. I felt uncomfortable and turned on at the same time. A hot pull hit me between the legs and I crossed my thighs tight.

—Do I turn it off or not? —Andrés asked, without taking his eyes off the screen.

—You don’t look like you want to turn it off —I answered, with a smile I didn’t even recognize as mine—. Watch her if you want. It’s been years since I saw you like this.

Sofía turned and gave us her back, and we saw the full curve of her ass, two firm half-moons that shifted when she bent down. She took off her panties to try on another pair and lingered, unhurried. I saw her fingers disappear in front as she adjusted the fabric, and I also saw them linger longer than necessary, sinking between the lips of her cunt. She was doing it without knowing we were watching, and that was exactly what had Andrés and me holding our breath.

Andrés kissed me. He hadn’t kissed me like that in a long time, shoving his tongue deep into my mouth, biting my lower lip. He started unbuttoning my blouse without taking his eyes off the screen and I let him. I slipped my hand under his pants and grabbed his cock directly, with no underwear in between, and felt it hard as stone, thick, the head already wet.

—She’s got you worked up, hasn’t she? —I whispered, squeezing it.

—A lot —he admitted—. I’m about to explode.

—Me too. Look, touch me.

I took his hand and put it inside my panties. I was soaked through. His fingers slid between my lips with no effort, and he pulled a moan out of me when he found my clit.

He laid me down on the living room sofa, with the tablet propped on the backrest, and yanked my panties off in one pull. He slid down my body until he buried his face between my legs. Andrés hadn’t eaten my pussy like that in years, hungry, sucking my clit with his lips and pushing two fingers into me to the hilt. Every few seconds I would look back at the screen. Sofía had sat down on the little stool in the dressing room, legs spread, rubbing herself through her underwear, slowly, lost in herself. I saw her move the fabric aside and slide in one finger, then another, her mouth parted.

—Fuck me now —I begged Andrés—. Put it in me.

He climbed up, got into position, and drove his cock into me with one thrust. I screamed. We hadn’t fucked like that in months, not with real desire, and now he was filling me completely and making the sofa creak. He got me on all fours facing the tablet and took me from behind, gripping my hips. Every thrust made my tits slam against the cushion. I kept watching Sofía, who now had three fingers inside herself and the other hand squeezing a nipple. Everything fit together in a very strange way. When I came, I clenched my cunt around Andrés’s cock and he came right after, inside, growling against my neck. It had been years since I came like that, with hot cum spilling down my thighs.

***

Afterward, lying on the sofa, with his semen still sliding out of me, I dared to ask him.

—While you were fucking me, were you thinking about her?

He took a while to answer.

—A little, yes. I’m sorry.

—Don’t apologize. I’ve thought about her too. And it’s not the first time.

—What do you mean?

—That I like the way she is. That I’d like to touch her, lick her, finger her. And that I’d rather have you fuck her in front of me than one day do it in secret and lie to me.

Andrés propped himself up on one elbow. He looked at me as if he didn’t recognize me.

—Are you serious?

—Very serious. If she wants to, of course. And I think she would want to.

***

The next day, after lunch, Sofía said she was going to take a shower and went upstairs. Andrés and I stayed on the sofa with the tablet again. The guest bathroom also had a camera; we had installed it for security when the builders came. We hadn’t removed that one either.

Sofía undressed in front of the mirror and stepped under the stream. She soaped her shoulders, her neck, her tits, pausing to pinch her nipples with soapy fingers. But then she leaned her back against the wall, moved away from the showerhead, and brought her hand down. She did it slowly, her eyes closed. We watched her part her cunt lips with two fingers, find her clit with her middle finger, and set the rhythm in small circles. We watched her open her lips without making a sound yet. Then yes, then a low moan escaped her, barely a breath, and then another, longer one.

—She’s close —I said softly, not really knowing why I was speaking so low.

Andrés’s jaw was tight and he had already pulled his cock out of his pants. He was stroking it slowly, without taking his eyes off the screen. Sofía sat on the edge of the bathtub, spread her legs wide, and kept going. She shoved two fingers in to the knuckles, curling them upward, while her thumb hammered her clit. The camera was right above the sink and the image was crystal clear: you could see her shaved pink cunt, glossy, opening and closing around her fingers. When she came, she did it almost silently, head thrown back, a small tremor in her thighs and a clear trickle running down her hand.

—Go upstairs —I told Andrés, taking his cock and jerking him off myself—. Now.

—What?

—Go up, get naked before you go in. Go in with her. If she tells you no, apologize and leave. If she says yes, fuck her properly. I want to see it.

I didn’t have to tell him twice.

***

What happened after that I saw all of it. Sofía was startled at first, made a move to cover her tits, and then let her hands fall. She looked at his naked body, stared fixedly at the erect cock Andrés was showing her. She reached out and grabbed it, saying nothing, squeezing it and measuring it with her fingers. Andrés moved closer to the shower with her and started kissing her neck, her shoulders, lowering his mouth to her nipples. He sucked them one by one, tugging them with his teeth. The rest was a sequence I didn’t take my eyes off for a second.

She crouched under the water and took him halfway into her mouth, bracing one hand against the wall so she wouldn’t slip. She sucked him with her eyes closed, taking him all the way out and swallowing him again, leaving a string of saliva hanging from her chin. Andrés grabbed the back of her neck and started fucking her mouth slowly, until she gagged a little and smiled. Then he lifted her, sat her on the edge of the bathtub, and spread her legs. He sank his tongue between her lips, sucking her clit until Sofía gripped his hair to keep from slipping and came, moaning against his mouth.

When he entered her, my husband closed his eyes as if he were breathing for the first time in a long while. He fucked her with one hard thrust and Sofía threw her head back with a cry. He fucked her face-on first, watching her tits bounce with every push, and then turned her, put her on her knees against the tub, and took her from behind, gripping her by the hair. I could see Andrés’s cock going in and out of Sofía’s cunt, glossy, see his hips slapping her ass every time. Every thrust was for me too, because I knew I was watching. In the end he pulled out, turned her around again, and came over her tits and face, thick ropes of cum that Sofía caught with her mouth open and her tongue out.

When he came down, still with wet hair and the towel around his waist, I gave him a long kiss, searching for the taste of her in his mouth.

—How was it?

—Like it hasn’t been in years.

—Then tomorrow it’s my turn —I told him.

***

The next day was awkward during dinner. Sofía was embarrassed and Andrés answered in monosyllables. As for me, I kept the conversation going as if nothing had happened. I didn’t want to talk yet. I wanted Sofía to know I wasn’t angry, but without telling her straight out. I waited for her to go up to her room and got ready.

I put on a black lace set I’d bought months earlier and never worn, a short dress over it, low heels. I went up the stairs slowly. I knocked on the dressing room door twice and went in without waiting for an answer. Sofía was half changed, in her underwear, with her back to me. She turned and looked at me with a small shock that became something else as soon as she saw how I was dressed.

—Carolina, what happened yesterday… I didn’t mean to. He came in and…

—I know, Sofía. I saw everything. Through the camera.

Her cheeks flushed.

—You saw me?

—I saw you alone in the shower, fingering yourself. And then I saw the two of you, how you sucked him off, how he fucked you, how you came with him inside you. I didn’t come to reproach you. I came to understand what you saw in him. And to have you do that to me.

I let the dress fall to the floor. I stood there in black lace in front of her. Sofía didn’t look away; she took me in from head to toe, from my breasts to my thighs.

—Fuck, Carolina.

—If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.

—Don’t go.

I moved closer and kissed her neck. She smelled of the same almond lotion she used at the gym and that I had smelled so many times without daring to think anything. Her mouth found mine and, when she kissed me back, she did it as if she had been waiting for it for a long time, shoving her tongue into my mouth, biting my lips, sucking my tongue as if it were a cock.

I unhooked her bra and let it fall. I grabbed her tits with both hands, squeezed them, bent down, and sucked her nipples. They were hard, small, perfect for fitting entirely in my mouth. Sofía moaned and pressed my head against her chest. My hand slipped into her thong and found her cunt already soaking wet, as wet as mine.

We sat on the small sofa in the dressing room and I pulled her white thong all the way down. I opened her legs and looked at her cunt up close. Pink, almost hairless, with the little lips swollen and the clit peeking out. I ran my tongue all the way over it, from bottom to top, tasting her. She tasted sweet, a little salty, very feminine. I ate her with patience, first with a flat tongue, then circling her clit, then taking it into my mouth and pulling it out like a little cock. I slid two fingers into her and curved them, searching for the point I knew in myself. Sofía started moving her hips against my face, faster and faster. When she came in my mouth, she grabbed my hair with both hands and said my name twice, clamping her thighs around my head.

After that we moved to the bed. She tore my bra off in one yank and went down on me too, giving it back to me. No one had ever eaten my pussy like that, with the delicacy of someone who knows what a woman wants. She sucked my clit with her lips, paused just before, licked me all over, came back up. She fingered me and found my G-spot with precision, and I felt everything contract inside. I came in her mouth with a cry, arching my back.

Then we sat facing each other, our legs intertwined in a scissor position, cunt to cunt, and rubbed ourselves without separating. Our clits brushed at the same time, sliding in our own juices. She held one of my tits, I held her ass, and we looked into each other’s eyes, moving faster and faster. I came too, against her, my forehead pressed to hers and her name in my mouth. I felt her come almost at the same time, trembling all over against me.

***

That very night Andrés and I offered for her to stay with us a little longer. Sofía said she didn’t want to complicate our lives.

—You don’t complicate them —I told her—. You gave us something back. And we want to keep having it.

Andrés nodded. He held out his hand to Sofía and she looked at his palm for a moment before accepting.

We told her about the cameras that same night. I said that if it bothered her, we’d disconnect them forever. Sofía laughed and said to leave them where they were, that now she liked the idea of us watching while she fingered herself.

She lived with us for almost four months. There were nights the three of us were in the same bed, with Andrés fucking one while the other sucked her tits, changing positions, the three of us ending up soaked and exhausted. Other nights I would go down to the sofa to read while I listened to her with Andrés through the tablet, hearing her scream for him to put it in harder, hearing my husband’s cock sloshing inside her cunt, and I’d finger myself downstairs until I came alone. Other times it was Andrés who stayed downstairs and the two of us went up, and he watched us eat each other’s pussies for hours. No one kept count. No one was jealous.

Sofía eventually left when she got a job in another city. We cried the last three nights, and the last three nights we fucked until dawn. When she left, Andrés and I discovered that the flame she had lit was still there even after we closed the door. It took us time to find someone like her, and we still haven’t found her quite fully. But we no longer sleep back to back. And the dressing room camera is still where it was.