The country house of the Macayas
Elena turned off the engine and the truck stood still under the vine that covered the porch. Summer was advancing slowly, full of smells of thyme and hot dirt. David stretched his leg and felt, without haste, the worn leather seat. They had driven three hours from the city and the silence between them was not uncomfortable; it was the pause that preceded any important step.
"I see you thinking," he said, touching the back of his hand.
"I'm thinking about how to ask you without it sounding like an obligation," she replied, looking at it for the first time since they left the highway.
David smiled with that half smile that Elena always interpreted as an invitation. They had talked about everything before buying the house: shifts, savings and, finally, the possibility of opening the bed to other presences, whenever both people wanted. Both were bisexual, but so far they had never coincided at the same time, in the same person.
"I hear you," he replied.
Elena took a deep breath.
“There is a house nearby that is rented for weeks. The owner is a drawing teacher who lives alone. I asked him to come on a Saturday afternoon, to have wine and to chat. That’s all. And if at some point the three of us feel like something else, we talked about it right there. Otherwise, we had dinner and each one went back to his place.
David nodded, without smiling at all, but without taking his hand away.
- Name and age.
"His name is Mario. He is thirty-eight years old. He works at the University of Fine Arts. He says that he is attracted to men and women and that he prefers to know always what is expected of him. He gave me his phone in case you wanted to talk to him before.
David pulled out his mobile phone. The message was already written; I just needed to press send. He did it without adding anything. Twenty minutes later the answer sounded: “I will be happy to go at seven. I will bring a bottle. If you want me to leave before dinner, you just have to tell me.”
On Saturday he arrived wrapped in a cooler air than usual. David opened the windows of the main hall and placed three glasses on the oak table. Elena prepared a table with cheese and olives. At seven o’clock they knocked on the door. Mario was a little more than five feet tall, had curly black hair and a short beard that began to plate in his temples. He wore a white linen shirt and light pants that let the beginning of leather sandals be seen.
"I went through fear," he acknowledged as soon as he entered, but said it smiling.
"We too," answered David, offering his hand. "That's why we're talking about everything.
They ate slowly. The wine was white and fresh; the bread, freshly baked. They talked about contemporary art, house reforms and how rare it sometimes turns out to name desire out loud. Mario said that his last relationship ended because they did not dare to recognize that they both looked at other people. Elena explained that she was excited about the idea of seeing David with another man, but that she needed to know that he also enjoyed seeing her with another woman. David admitted that it was the same thing, although with fewer words.
At 10:30, the light in the living room was already lamp. Elena got up to pick up the dishes and, when she returned, stood by Mario’s chair. She looked at him. He held his gaze. Then she asked him:
- Would you like me to kiss you?
"Yes," he answered bluntly. "Can I touch your waist?"
"Yes," she said.
The kiss was long, wet, with Mario’s hand open on Elena’s linen skirt and her hand leaning on the back of the chair so as not to lose balance. David watched from the other side of the table, breathing slowly. When Elena stepped away, he looked for her look.
- Do you still want to?
"Yes," he replied. "May I approach?"
Mario turned to David and nodded. David got up, surrounded the table and stopped at one step from both of them. Mario held out his other hand and David took it. The contact was electric, but none of the three rushed. They stood there, measuring the air between their bodies.
"I want to see you both," Elena said quietly. "Do you mind if I sit on the sofa arm and look at you?"
"As long as we can still see you," answered David.
Elena settled in. Mario and David looked at each other for a second, then they approached each other. The first touch of lips between them was almost shy, as if each asked permission from the other. Then David’s tongue found Mario’s and both sighed at the same time. Their hands began to explore: Mario climbed up David’s T-shirt and caressed his back; David unbuttoned a button from Mario’s shirt and then another. Elena watched them with her legs slightly open and hands on her thighs, without touching herself yet.
"Take off your shirt," she asked.
Both obeyed. The contrast of skins was beautiful: David, darker by the days of work in the garden; Mario, clearer, with a thin line of hair that went down from the sternum to the belt. David passed his palm along that path and Mario closed his eyes. Elena moistened his lips.
"Come down," he whispered.
David knelt down while looking at Mario, who held his eye as he unbuttoned his belt. The pants fell. Mario wore black underwear that he immediately tightened when David leaned his mouth over the cloth. Elena felt a deep heartbeat between her legs. He got up and approached. Mario held his free hand and she caught it, interlacing her fingers.
"Tell me what you want," Mario asked.
"I want to see you inside David," she replied, bluntly. "And I want him to see me while he takes you.
David looked up, his lips already wet.
"I agree," he said. "But I need you to prepare me.
Mario nodded and Elena went to get the lubricant and a towel that had been left over the hallway chest. When he returned, David was already naked on the carpet, on all fours, with his back arched and his breathing accelerated. Mario knelt behind him and began to prepare him with two fingers, slowly, without stopping to look at Elena, who had sat in front of them with her legs crossed and skirt raised up to her thighs. He touched over the panties, without haste.
"Tell me when," said Mario.
"Now," answered David with his hoarse voice.
Mario stood behind, held David’s hips and began to go in an inch by an inch. David let go of a long moan and closed his fists on the carpet. Elena took off her panties and approached her to the height of her husband’s face. David raised his head and looked at her with glassy eyes.
"Kiss me," she whispered.
They kissed while Mario began to move with a steady rhythm. David’s groanings were low, almost grateful. Elena stepped a few inches away and lay face up, opening her legs. David lowered her head and licked her without letting Mario leave him. David’s tongue trembled every time Mario pushed deeper. Elena held her husband’s hair and arched her hips.
"I want to get into it," she said.
Mario stopped. David stood on his knees, still with Mario inside, and looked at Elena.
- How do you want me to take you?
"From behind, while Mario takes you.
Elena stood on all fours in front of them. David stood behind her and penetrated her with a grunt of content. Mario went back into David, creating a chain of pushes that made each one feel the movement of the other two. The living room was filled with short breaths and the wet sound of the bodies. Elena ran first, with a choked scream against the arm of the sofa. David followed her shortly afterwards, pressing her fingers on her hips. Mario held on for a few more seconds, until David asked her:
"I want to see you run on my back."
Mario came out of him and masturbated until he finished on David’s shiny sweat skin. Elena turned and passed her fingers through her husband’s back, spreading Mario’s semen as if drawing on him. The three remained silent for a few minutes, regaining their breath.
Mario was the first to talk.
"I need a glass of water and a shower, if I may."
"Sure," said Elena. "You can use the guest room.
David got up hard and kissed his wife on the forehead.
- Are you okay?
"More than well," she replied, smiling. "And you?"
"I've never felt anything like it. Thank you for asking me.
Mario came back wrapped in a towel and sat on the couch. The three spoke for a while, this time without clothes, without haste, with the same naturalness with which they had undressed. They were left to see each other again in two weeks, without promises, only with the certainty that, if something repeated, they would speak it all again before starting.
When Mario left, Elena and David stayed on the porch, naked under the vine. The stars began to light up. David passed his arm through Elena’s shoulders and she leaned her head on her chest.
"I think we've finally found a place where we don't have to hide," she said.
David kissed her hair.
- And people you don't have to pretend to.
Elena closed her eyes. The air smelled like jasmine and long summer. For the first time in a long time, the future did not seem like a threat, but a place where all the forms of desire they wanted to name could fit.
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