What My Husband Wanted Me to See at the Pool

They tell it both ways, each in his own way.

I was beginning to enjoy the game Raúl had invented. It aroused me and, above all, amused me. The first afternoon, when I came out of the shower, I felt awkward: my husband was chatting with Sebastián in the bedroom as if he didn’t realize I had to get dressed and that he wasn’t leaving. I had no choice but to put my clothes on with my back turned, trying not to show too much, telling myself that our guest wasn’t looking at me either.

Raúl’s smile and the obvious bulge in his trousers showed me that wasn’t the case. And they confirmed something else: it had all been a ploy of his to get me to show myself.

That was when I decided to really join the game, but my way. If he wanted me to expose him, I would, even if I was going to leave him frustrated, unable to be the one who saw everything. The first little mischief came in the car, on the way to the village: I took off my underwear without him noticing and, from then on, I devoted myself to showing Sebastián every corner I could, especially everything no man should ever see on a friend’s wife.

I think I succeeded. He didn’t take his eyes off me the whole dinner. The masterstroke was spreading my legs just as Raúl got up to go to the bar; I enjoyed it so much that it took me a while to notice I had had an extra spectator at the neighboring tables. I wasn’t ashamed. I was starting to like it, and I planned to keep heating up our guest until I got what my husband said he wanted and what I, without admitting it, already desired.

That night I went back to the room half naked, swaying my hips provocatively before getting into bed. There I found that Sebastián was starting to loosen up too. I still didn’t know how it would end, but I was clear that I meant to keep putting on a show until I found out. And I would do it behind Raúl’s back, to punish him a little for his insistence.

***

I fell asleep late, with the image of those hips disappearing down the hallway burned into my head. When I woke up, it was still there, almost untouched. It was clear that Carla was inviting me to do more than look, and I fully intended to oblige her, though I didn’t know how to handle the Raúl problem: whether to tell him or give him what he wanted without him finding out.

I put on a pair of shorts, washed my face in the little bathroom, and went out before the sun had finished rising. Their bedroom door was open, which was normal in a house they had to themselves the rest of the year. I didn’t peek in. I went straight to the kitchen to find what I needed to make coffee, but I found nothing except the cups, and I didn’t dare rummage through the cupboards so early.

I went back to my room to wait for someone to get up. It didn’t take long. Maybe my clumsiness had alerted one of them. I heard noises in the bathroom, water running, then silence. A shadow crossed in front of my door and a little later came the usual sounds: doors, cups, water pouring into what I hoped was the coffee maker. I grabbed a T-shirt, but I didn’t put it on. On other summers I had spent there with Raúl, when we were alone, we went around the whole house wearing nothing at all.

It wasn’t Raúl. It was Carla, almost naked, with only a thin T-shirt covering her torso and nothing underneath. She was filling a container with water. The light of dawn left the scene in half-darkness, but the two curves of her body glowed with the little that came in through the doorway. I froze in the threshold, confused all over again to see her like that. She had the gift of unarming me: she moved with total naturalness, oblivious to everything, busy with her own things.

She must have heard my breathing, or the way I came to a halt when I stepped into the kitchen, because she turned abruptly and found me completely naked, T-shirt in hand and, for sure, mouth open. Her face lit up with a smile.

—Hello, Sebastián. What a joy to see you so natural.

I reacted at once, hurriedly put the T-shirt on, and, once covered, regained some composure. She, on the other hand, stayed perfectly calm, turning her back to me while the smell of coffee filled the house. When I came back, fully dressed, the table was set and Carla had disappeared. I could hear windows opening and clothes rustling in her room, so I waited for her to have breakfast.

She appeared in a bikini bottom and the same sleeveless top. When we finished, Raúl and I went for a walk in the hills while she tidied up a little. As we climbed, he asked me whether I had made any progress, whether Carla had loosened up more with me, whether she had become less inhibited. I didn’t want to tell him anything. It didn’t seem right to talk about such intimacies, especially not about her. I told him everything was normal and friendly, that I didn’t plan to do anything against my principles, but that if something happened, I would tell him when I thought it might please him. If that was what he really wanted.

When we went into the pool area, Carla was sunbathing face down, wearing the same bikini bottom, and she didn’t move when she sensed us arrive. Raúl repeated the previous day’s trick: he rubbed sunscreen into his hands, passed me the bottle, and between the two of us we spread the sunblock across her back. I again had the pleasure of tracing that soft skin, of kneading the firm curves of her body, of sliding my fingers for a moment along the edge of the fabric, in an audacity that lasted only a few seconds.

We did it again when she turned over to tan on her front. Raúl, always attentive, took the bottle from her and handed it to me so I could take care of the upper half, so that my hands would cover and caress what no friend should. Carla finally got truly angry: she said we were leaving her soaking wet and that she wasn’t going to tan like that. We had to stop.

We moved away a little and got into the water, slipping off our swimsuits to swim naked as we had other times. I liked being like that, even if it seemed awkward in front of her; in the water, though, shyness disappeared. The best came afterward, when Raúl said he was driving down to the village to buy bread and fruit. As soon as the car started down the hill, Carla sat up, pulled down her bikini bottom in front of me until she was as naked as I was, and got into the water beside me, splashing me, laughing, much less serious than when her husband was around.

It was crystal clear: she didn’t want to do anything with Raúl nearby. I went along with it, and when she got too playful I pressed against her and cornered her against the pool wall.

—Surrender or I’ll drown you right now —I warned her.

—You wouldn’t dare —she challenged.

—I would, unless you pay the ransom.

She held my gaze while I brought my face closer to hers, until our lips brushed in a brief kiss. She didn’t reject it. I didn’t want to prolong it, so as not to overdo the first time and ruin everything. It was she who came looking for me again: she hugged me tightly, pressed her mouth to mine, and kept it there until I was almost out of breath. In that position I could barely move my arms, so I lowered my hands from her shoulders to her waist, and a little further, until I pulled her against me.

I felt her chest crush against mine, and she surely noticed how hard I was despite the cold water, because she slipped her hand between our two bodies until she barely grazed me with her fingertips, never quite taking hold of me. She parted her mouth to look at me, with a mischievous smile.

—Is this in my honor? —she asked.

—I’m afraid so.

—Well. I hadn’t realized I made that impression on you. I’ll have to be more careful.

—For my sake, don’t be. It’s fine like this.

—So you’re bold too —she laughed, and got out of the water.

She left me standing there, completely aroused and with a much clearer idea of what could happen between us. Curiously, she put her bikini bottom back on and lay down in the sun just as, in the distance, the car engine sounded, climbing the hill. I only had time to get out and lie face down on my towel before Raúl appeared carrying bags.

—Behaved yourselves in my absence? —he said, already wearing his swimsuit.

It sounded like an innocent comment, but it made me uneasy. I pretended to be asleep and didn’t answer. Carla merely grunted that lazy assent she used when she didn’t want to talk.

That night we went back to the village for a drink after dinner. It was Saturday and we preferred to eat at home rather than fight for a table. I was disappointed that she wasn’t wearing the open dress from the night before, but instead a modest skirt above the knee and a short-sleeved white blouse. The surprise came when she sat down across from me, with the table between her and Raúl. Inevitably, the skirt rode higher and higher every time she leaned forward to reach her glass, until her brown thighs were almost entirely bare, as if she were wearing shorts.

And then I wasn’t surprised that, when she spread her legs just a little, she put everything on display for me. Once again she had decided to go out without underwear, offering me the show, smiling happily under my eyes. What was truly obscene wasn’t that I could look —I had already done that at point-blank range in the pool— but that she was doing it there, in public, not caring about the curious people at the nearby tables who were also watching without missing a detail.

We talked, and I’d be unable to say about what. My mind was on the games of shadow beneath that scant skirt, on the soft, warm skin of her thighs, on the naturalness with which she showed her intimacy to anyone who wanted to see it. I found my voice again when we left the square, while the strangers turned after us with the regret that the show had ended so soon. Carla walked arm in arm with both of us, coquettish and happy, the skirt back in place, hiding that body I could no longer get out of my head.

We talked a little longer on the terrace and retired early, each to our own room. They were still talking; I went to the other end of the house, to my bed and my dreams. I couldn’t sleep. I imagined her standing on a table in the square, letting a stranger gesture for her to turn slowly, without touching her, just looking at her, while everyone else held their breath. I was in that reverie, my hand under the sheet, when fingers brushed my face.

I opened my eyes slowly. There she was, just like in my dream, with a naughty smile, no makeup now, fresh and smelling of clean cologne. She took off her underwear, let it fall aside, and sat on the edge of my bed.

—Poor thing. What a bad night you’re in for with that thing so hard down there. Doesn’t it hurt? —she whispered.

By then I was perfectly clear that Carla wanted a fight and that she didn’t care whether her husband was sleeping in the next room. She had been provoking me since the first night; nobody goes down to the village without underwear out of habit. All that spectacle had been in my honor. Even so, I decided to go slowly, in case I slipped now that everything seemed so easy.

I slid one hand up to her breast and caressed it gently, feeling it respond to the touch. She offered no resistance, as if she hardly noticed. I slipped my arm around her back and drew her toward me to kiss her on the neck, on the shoulder, while her hand found the edge of the sheet and for a moment fought to pull it away. Then it moved down my chest in small circles, hesitating when it reached my stomach, until at last she touched me, slowly, with a curiosity that drove me crazy.

I pulled her against me and sought her mouth. She responded at once, her passion growing by the second. She lay down over my body, her face a handspan from mine, eyes half-open, and kissed me again, first softly and then almost furiously. When I guided her inside me, we were both so eager that nothing more was needed. She closed her thighs, trapping me, and began a slow rocking that did not stop.

Her face beaded with sweat. She bit her lips to stifle her gasps, attentive to the silence of the house, until a shiver ran through her entire body and she collapsed onto my chest, spent, her hair covering my face, her warm, relaxed body on top of mine. I didn’t dare move and didn’t want to seek my own ending. The first step had already been taken, and something told me there would be another chance.

A distant noise startled her. She pulled away abruptly, gathered her clothes from the floor, and with the briefest kiss left me alone, bewildered and happy all at once. I then heard the shower running and imagined her cleaning herself, washing away the trace of that night. Then some low voices, a whisper, silence. Tomorrow I would know what had gone through her head to invent such a strange and exciting night. For now it was enough to know that Raúl’s game had slipped out of his hands, and that the prize had been all mine.