After our first encounter at our house, the arrangement settled into a sort of routine, and over several weekends, on Friday or Saturday nights, David would come round, have vigorous sex with my wife, and then leave. I would then make love to her, trying to satisfy her as best I could, though I’d long since given up any hope of competing sexually with David.
In any case, we both felt good. She was very sexually satisfied, feeling attractive and desired by two men. And I was satisfied to see her so happy, enjoying sex with her and the excitement of seeing my fantasy come true.
As for David, he was enjoying a guaranteed sexual relationship with no strings attached, so he couldn’t complain, and he felt increasingly confident and less awkward around me, even in the office.
Of course, he didn’t say a word to anyone about it, at least as far as I knew, but he grew more and more confident.
Proof of this came one Monday morning at coffee break, when, as on every Monday, several of us colleagues were in the break room having coffee and discussing the weekend’s football results, and whilst I was enthusiastically defending the superiority of my team, Barcelona, over David’s team, Madrid, the tension between us began to rise.
Then David, looking at me, started slipping double entendres into the conversation – phrases that went unnoticed by the others, but which I interpreted as having a sexual undertone. Phrases like: “We in Madrid SLAM the ball right into the BACK of the net”, “We’ve SCORED MORE goals this weekend”, “Our SHOTS are more POWERFUL”, “We LAST LONGER in matches", and “Our FANS are MORE SATISFIED with us than with you lot”.
The situation annoyed me, but at the same time, his boasting about his superiority in bed in front of our mates—even though only he and I realised it—humiliated and aroused me at the same time.
In the end, the tension eased, and we shook hands, bringing both the public and private debates to a close.
Apart from that incident, those weeks passed without a hitch until suddenly David told us that we wouldn’t be able to see each other for a while. It turned out that a great-uncle of his, the brother of the great-aunt from whom he had inherited the house in Barcelona where David lived, had to spend some time in Barcelona for medical treatment.
This relative usually lived in a mountain village in Catalonia, where he was looked after by a son, but there was no hospital there offering the specific treatment he required, so he had to spend a few weeks living with David, as his son was unable to travel due to his work.
Given his age and poor health, David would have to look after him, particularly at night, so we wouldn’t be able to meet up. Iris didn’t take the news well at all; she was very comfortable with the situation. For my part, it didn’t affect me that much, and at the office, the main change would be that David would be working from home for a few hours.
A few days later, one evening when I got home, Iris said to me, “I’ve spoken to David. It turns out his great-uncle, who’s passionate about Catalonia, is constantly nagging him about the fact that David knows nothing about Barcelona or the history of Catalonia. David confirmed that the truth is, he hasn’t visited anything since he arrived.”
“And?”
‘He’s asked me if I could act as his guide and show him the city—the monuments, museums, the history...’
‘When? How?’ I asked.
"You know I’ve got a bit of free time on Wednesday afternoons. I thought I could show him around and give him a tour of the city. I reckon he misses seeing me too."
"I don’t know..." I said, hesitantly.
"It’d just be a walk and, at most, a coffee. We’re not talking about sex."
"Do you miss having your admirer? Do you want to go on a date?" I asked her jokingly.
"Maybe..." she replied teasingly.
I thought, well, it didn’t matter; David didn’t have any friends in the city yet, and it would do Iris good to have an admirer by her side.
And so began a series of Wednesday afternoons during which Iris showed David around the city. David would ask my permission to be away, using the ‘official’ excuse—for the sake of the company and any other colleagues who might overhear—that he had to look after his uncle. In the evening, Iris would tell me what they’d been to see.
One evening, sitting on the sofa, Iris said to me, “You know, I’ve been thinking…”
“About what?”
“David hasn’t been having sex these past few weeks; you and I have, although for me it’s not the same. When I make love to you, although I enjoy it very much and feel good with you, it’s not as explosive as it is with David.”
"What are you getting at?" I asked, feeling uneasy, especially after remembering how much more she enjoyed being with David than with me.
"I don't think it's just about him physically. The situation, the feeling of doing something forbidden, something daring and taboo—fucking someone who isn't my husband whilst my husband watches—makes me enjoy it more."
What she said reassured me; at least I wasn’t that much worse than him in bed. The setting contributed quite a lot. I got the feeling that Iris wanted to ask me for something, although perhaps she didn’t quite know herself what she wanted.
I encouraged her to continue. “I understand. It’s been very exciting for me too. When we make love these days, it’s not as intense as when we do it after you’ve been with him. I’m sorry we had to stop just when things were getting good.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that. The thing is, I was thinking… To make it just as exciting for everyone and so we’re all really keen to have more encounters… Er… That you and I only make love when we have encounters with David. That way, it’ll always be very special and intense for everyone.”
I was taken aback by the suggestion. Instead of making love whenever we felt like it, we would only be doing it after a session with David. It meant giving up a lot. Only doing it when he did, and after him, always sticking my cock into my wife’s pussy, soaked in his semen, and with a condom on top of that.
On the other hand, the anticipation could be exciting, and when we did have sex, it would be much more intense. It was true that during the time we’d gone without seeing David, the frequency had dropped, as had the enthusiasm.
It didn’t occur to me at the time to suggest that if I had sex with Iris the same number of times as he did (probably fewer times in fact, since he could come several times in one night and I only once or at most twice), the argument that I should use a condom because the risk was greater in his case didn’t make sense, although it could also be argued that in any case, the lower the risk, the better.
I found myself thinking about that idea of limiting ourselves to having sex only when we were with David. The idea was humiliating: not being able to make love except when my wife’s lover did, when she was satisfied and sated, and with a condom. But although my brain told me I shouldn’t accept it, thinking about it made my cock hard as a rock.
My wife noticed and started stroking my cock with her hand whilst saying, “It seems the idea turns you on, so I think we have to put it into practice.”
“I don’t know, I’m not sure,” I replied, my voice trembling with excitement.
"Well, your body doesn't seem to agree," she said, without stopping her stroking. "I think we can seal the deal by making you come with my hand."
"No... Yes... Maybe..." I stammered, growing more and more aroused, whilst the movement of her hand made it very difficult for me to concentrate...
"Come on! Say yes," she urged me provocatively, slowing down the pace and easing the pressure on my hypersensitive cock.
I had my eyes closed, enjoying both imagining the scenario she’d set up and my wife’s hand stroking my cock.
She was toying with me, teasing me and pushing me to give an answer, without which it was clear she wouldn’t let me come. Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer; in a broken voice, I said, “Yes…” and immediately came. An intense climax swept through my body from head to toe, and a huge stain of semen spread across my trousers, still gushing from my swollen member.
Iris looked at me with a smile and said, “Now it’s my turn. Would you use your wonderful tongue to make me come?”
I didn’t hesitate. I knelt between her legs, pulled her skirt aside, pulled down her knickers and began licking her vulva with all my enthusiasm and skill. She was already wet from the conversation, and I quickly brought her to an orgasm, followed by several more.
When we were done, she said to me, “Well, from now on, the three of us are going to be absolutely horny until David's relative leaves. I’m already really keen, even though you and I have made love quite a few times since our meetings with David were interrupted.”
Two weeks into this new arrangement, and having had no sex, I came home one Wednesday to find Iris looking very restless. Given the pace we’d been setting over the last few months—making love practically every day, sometimes more than once, and above all enjoying it immensely—these two weeks of abstinence were certainly making us both restless.
It was a truly exciting game: touching each other or seeing each other naked, yet not being able to make love. However, this time I noticed something different about Iris; a look of concern was evident on her face.
She threw herself at me as soon as I arrived, started kissing and hugging me, and told me that she loved me very much and that I was the most important thing in her life.
Then she took me to the bedroom and started taking my clothes off, threw me onto the bed and undressed herself. I looked at her, partly surprised and partly uneasy.
She straddled me and began to speak to me very seriously, “I have something to tell you.”
I replied jokingly, “Let me guess, are you as desperate as I am to make love, and are we going to forget about waiting for David?”
She looked at me and began to repeat in a sorrowful voice, almost on the verge of tears, “I’m sorry, Oriol! I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! Forgive me!”
Worried, I asked her, “Tell me what’s wrong. What’s happened?”
"You know I was supposed to go with David to the Picasso Museum this afternoon, don't you?"
"Yes, I remember. We haven't been there for ages."
"The thing is, after nearly two hours strolling through the galleries arm in arm, leaning in to read the labels on the paintings or looking at the catalogue, breathing in the scent of his body, his cologne, feeling the firmness of his muscles, and watching him walk with his athletic build, I started to get more and more turned on. It had been over a month since I’d had sex with him and two weeks without any sex at all, and my body went haywire. I’m so sorry, Oriol. Forgive me!”
"But what happened?"
"You remember that on the ground floor, as well as the ticket office and cloakroom, there are the toilets..."
"Yes."
"And there’s a large toilet adapted for wheelchairs..."
"Yes."
"Well, when we went downstairs to leave the museum and passed that toilet, I couldn’t control myself. I grabbed David by the arm and, when no one was looking, I took him into that toilet... And we had sex there. I’m so sorry, Oriol. I know I shouldn’t have done it without talking to you first and without you being there; my hormones went haywire and clouded my judgement."
I stood there staring at her, not knowing what to say.
She, looking very remorseful, insisted, "Forgive me, I don’t know how I could have lost control like that."
The truth is that what had happened partly annoyed me, as the meetings with David were supposed to be arranged in advance and with me present, but it also excited me to think that my wife had become such a passionate and daring woman that she was capable of making love in a museum toilet. Besides, it was part of my fantasy to see my wife having sex with another man—that she would choose not only the man but also when and how they would fuck—so she had made that aspect of my fantasies come true.
“Don’t worry,” I reassured her, “I understand, and I’m not angry with you. I’m pretty desperate myself, and in your case, with your rediscovered sexuality, I understand that you let yourself be carried away by desire.”
“Thank you, Oriol, you’re the best husband I could wish for. Thank you. I love you so much,” she said gratefully, hugging me tightly.
"And to prove it to you..." She continued with a mischievous tone and look as she positioned herself on top of me and began to caress my chest, nibble my lips and ears, and kiss me passionately.
I responded with equal passion. It was clear to me that, whether as compensation for her ‘infidelity’ or because, according to our agreement, if she’d had sex with David, we could too, the fact was that at last I could enjoy making love to my wife.
After a while of enjoying our caresses, she paused for a moment and, looking me in the eyes, asked, "Do you want me to tell you what it was like?"
"Later!" I replied eagerly, grabbing her and laying her down on the bed, whilst I climbed on top of her and effortlessly penetrated her soaking wet and receptive vagina.
I began to move my hips, thrusting hard, our groins slapping noisily together. She wrapped her arms and legs tightly around me, pushing my cock deeper into her wet, burning depths.
As on previous occasions when we’d made love after a heated argument—though that wasn’t exactly the case here—it was a very intense and brief shag, a way of connecting our souls through our bodies, losing control completely, letting only touch and our other senses guide our movements.
Soon we both reached climax at the same time, our bodies trembling with pleasure, my testicles releasing all the semen that had built up over so many days and filling her receptive canal.
When we caught our breath, we looked at each other and laughed, and she said to me, "I’m so sorry about what happened... really… Although if it’s made us feel this good and this close, maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.”
“No,” I replied. “I don’t like it when we argue or hurt each other, but the truth is, I haven’t felt this good in a long time. I’d almost rather have an argument and a reconciliation than get caught up in monotony and routine.”
She lay down beside me, resting against my side, with her leg over mine and her arm caressing my face and chest.
"It’s that monotony in bed that we’ve broken by bringing David in. And speaking of David, tell me what happened," I asked.
"Well, as I told you, so many days without making love, and even more days without David fucking me and leaving me completely satisfied, had me really horny. And that afternoon walking with David, holding his arm and feeling his manly build, smelling him, our faces touching as we leaned in to read titles or signs, remembering how he’d fucked me and filled me completely; all of that was driving me mad. If you’d told me months ago that I could end up like this, I’d have said it was impossible, but ever since we started with your fantasy, I feel like a different person. There came a point when I couldn’t resist any longer; I needed to let off steam, and when we walked past that wheelchair-accessible toilet—very large and rarely used—I didn’t think twice. I grabbed his arm when no one was looking and dragged him into the toilet.
"We closed the door and I started kissing him passionately, pulling him towards me with my arms around his neck. He was just as eager and held me close whilst his other hand groped my bum through my skirt.
"Before long, we both had our shirts unbuttoned and our hands caressing each other’s skin, whilst our mouths continued to devour one another wildly."
As Iris told me all this, she had continued to caress me in an increasingly sensual and erotic way, moving closer and closer to my crotch, where my cock, listening to her recount the encounter and with my head full of images of the two of them undressing, had gone hard again despite the short time that had passed.
She smiled when she felt my erection with her hand and, still smiling, straddled me and guided my cock into her vagina, whilst whispering sensually, "Before, it was a shag to ask for your forgiveness... Now it’s the shag you’re owed after David fucks me...’"
“Well then, I don’t think I’ll mind if you have reasons to apologise to me more often…” I replied with a smile.
“Are you sure? I’m taking you at your word.”
Iris continued telling me about her encounter with David as she moved up and down on me, enveloping my cock with her velvety, wet insides whilst her fingers alternately caressed or pinched my nipples. “We hurriedly took off our shirts, and I took off my bra and knickers, whilst he pulled down his trousers and boxers and sat on the toilet seat. I straddled him and, in one swift movement, impaled myself fully on his cock, right to the hilt. I was soaking wet, and he was big and hard as a steel bar, so it took no effort at all.”
Listening to her talk, I was getting more and more turned on. Combined with her wetness and softness around my cock, the effect of her caresses on my nipples, the sight of her body and her beautiful breasts swaying in front of me—if I hadn’t come a few minutes earlier, I would have come on the spot.
She noticed my growing arousal and paused in her story to say to me in a teasing voice, "If you come, I won’t carry on telling you. Don’t you want to stay inside me a little longer, now that, as a one-off, we’re not using a condom?"
As usual, my wife managed to turn me on and tease me in a way that drove me wild. I tried to hold back, though the game of telling me something so arousing whilst at the same time threatening to stop if I got too excited only served to turn me on even more, and I had to make a huge effort to control myself.
Iris carried on telling me the story as she moved up and down slowly along my cock, giving me indescribable pleasure as I felt her insides without any barriers after having used a condom so many times.
“Feeling his cock inside me, filling me completely, stretching me in a way that was almost uncomfortable but infinitely pleasurable, I came. I stayed clinging to him for a few moments, almost dizzy. Then I started moving slowly, sliding up and down, feeling his cock slide through me completely, just as I’m doing with you now. Can you imagine? A few hours ago David was inside me, enjoying me just as you are doing now."
Of course, I could picture them in that bathroom, with the added thrill of being discovered, of doing something forbidden. The image made me redouble my efforts and thrust upwards into Iris as she moved down, trying to increase the stimulation and perhaps go deeper.
My wife noticed and, as usual, knew exactly what to say to turn me on even more. With a mischievous smile and a voice dripping with sensuality, she said, “Are you trying to get as deep inside me as David does? Don’t even try… You can’t… You’ll never manage it… You can’t reach where he reaches…”
Her words, though humiliating, turned me on even more, and I didn’t stop. I could also tell that my efforts and my desperate desire for her were driving Iris to orgasm.
In a breathless voice, my wife continued, “While I was moving, fucking him, he was fondling my breasts and sucking my nipples, which drove me even crazier. I had several orgasms in a row, or perhaps it was just one very long one with peaks and troughs. Before I knew it, I was panting and moaning quite loudly.
"At one point, we heard the door handle rattle; someone wanted to come in. We stayed still and quiet for a moment, and after a short while, whoever was trying to get in left. Like naughty children, we looked at each other, laughed and carried on, with even more enthusiasm, if that was possible.
"Shortly afterwards, I noticed David’s rhythm quickening, and finally I felt his cock throbbing and filling me with semen, pulsing and pumping inside me for what felt like minutes. It was a delightful sensation that brought me over the edge again. If someone had told me months ago that I’d be capable of having sex in a museum toilet, I would have replied that I’d never in a million years be capable of doing that and that I’d die of embarrassment.
"When we’d caught our breath, we both got up from the seat, washed our faces with water from the sink and dried ourselves with the paper towels that were there. As we were saying goodbye, I told David I’d tell you what had happened, that I didn’t want to lie to you. He replied that he’d also thought it best to tell you; he didn’t want to ruin the relationship. I asked him to wait until I’d spoken to you. So now you know everything. Forgive me, my love. You know I love you and would never betray you; I’m afraid you’ve awakened a dark side in me that I didn’t know existed,” Iris finished, kissing me and hugging me.
“A side that I must admit I love,” I replied, smiling, caressing her breasts and resuming my thrusts, my cock on the verge of exploding.
She quickened her movements too, and soon we both reached orgasm; me shooting out another huge load of cum—I didn’t know how I’d managed to produce it so quickly—and her with contractions of her vaginal muscles that felt absolutely divine.
We lay there embracing in silence for a while until Iris spoke. “Have you forgiven me?”
“Yes, of course.”
"Although I know I shouldn’t have done it, I also know that there’s a part of you that stirs at the thought that I’ve been with another man—a part that turns me on, a part that tries to compete by making love to me with every fibre of your being, and that drives me wild. Just like when I used to tell you that you’d never reach as deep inside me as he did. I’m not really trying to humiliate you, but to stimulate you, even if it’s through teasing and mockery as an erotic game. As I told you, I wouldn’t swap you for anyone, and part of the immense pleasure I get from David is because it’s something that affects and binds us both.”
“I must admit that all that turns me on; you know me far too well.”
"Well, next time I’ll talk to you before I lose control," she said, adding in a mischievous voice, "Although perhaps deep down you’d prefer it if I fucked David without consulting you or warning you. I think I’ll leave you in the dark. I think you’ll have to trust my judgement to do what’s best for both of us."
To be continued. Chapter 9. Amateur Detective.
