The whisper of the sands of Menorca

The whisper of the sands of Menorca

The July breeze entered through the open windows of the parlor of the farmhouse; it smelled of dry thyme and salt. Clara, thirty-eight years old, served red wine in glass glasses while her husband, Andrew, placed the mezzanines on the table. The three had already been talking about everything and nothing when the conversation became more intimate.

Sara, Clara's workmate, was forty-one years old and had just separated. She was tall, brunette, and had her hair picked up in a low bow. Until then, the talk had been light: memories of travel, office anecdotes. But Clara looked at Andrés and he nodded with a slight smile.

"Sara," said Clara, leaving the cup, "before she continues to drink, there is something that Andrés and I want to comment on. We wondered if you ever imagined being with a woman and a man at the same time.

Sarah arched her eyebrows, but she did not seem surprised. She took a sip of wine and answered without haste.

"I've ever thought about it, yes. But I've always been afraid that everything will get confusing. What exactly do you want?

Andrew bowed forward, his elbows on his knees.

"We want you to know that this is just a fantasy that we shared a long time ago. We are attracted to the idea that you enjoy both. No jealousy or labels. If you ever want to stop, just say it.

Clara added:

"And we'd like to know what you're attracted to, so there's no misunderstanding.

Sara smiled, a little nervous but determined.

"I am attracted to the softness of a woman and also to the firmness of a man. I like to feel desired by the two genres without having to choose. That is what excites me the most. And I confess that, since I started working with Clara, I have thought more than once about kissing her.

The silence that followed was not uncomfortable; it was charged with electricity that everyone recognized. Clara got up, surrounded the table and stopped in front of Sara.

"May I?" he asked.

• Yeah.

The kiss was slow, of trial. Sara reciprocated by slightly opening her lips and Clara felt the slight tremor of the other woman. Andrew watched without intervening, simply present. When they separated, Sara looked at him.

"Now I want you to kiss me too.

Andrew approached, kissed Sara with the same tenderness he used to use with Clara, and then kissed his wife so that the three of them shared the same breath. Clara’s hands went up Sara’s back, feeling under the light t-shirt the heat of her skin.

They moved to the master bedroom, whose white walls reflected the last sun of the afternoon. The fresh linen bed smelled like lavender. Andrew opened the windows wide; the rumor of the sea came in like a sounding mantle.

Clara was the first to take off her blouse. Sara imitated her, revealing a black lace bra that contrasted with her brown skin. Andrés stood by the bed, waiting for the following indication.

"Sara," Clara said, "would you like Andrew to look at us while you and I explore a little?

"Yes, I'd like you to see us, and join us when we ask."

They lay down on the quilt. Sara’s kisses were more intense than Clara had imagined; her tongue caressed the corners of her lips, then went down to her neck. Clara’s hands crossed Sara’s waist, lowered to the edge of her skirt and lifted her slowly. Sara sighed when Clara’s fingers rubbed the inside of her thighs. Everything happened with deliberate slowness, every gesture asking for tacit permission that the other gave with one movement.

Andrew unbuttoned his shirt while looking at them. His breathing had accelerated, but he did not take another step until Clara raised her head and called him with her eyes.

"Come," she said. "I want you to help me undress her.

Andrew knelt beside the bed. Together, he and Clara slipped Sara’s skirt to their ankles. Sara raised her hips to facilitate movement. When she was left alone in her underwear, she smiled shyly and eagerly.

"Now I want to see you two," he asked.

Clara looked at Andrew. He took off his shirt; Clara unbuttoned his wife’s bra and kissed her shoulder. Sara watched, biting her lower lip. When they were both naked, they put one on each side of Sara and kissed her alternately: first Andrew in the mouth, then Clara in the chest, then the two in the neck. Sara laughed between gasps, surprised by the feeling of being the center of two different attentions.

"Can I touch you?" asked Sara with a hoarse voice.

"You can," answered Andrew.

"Whereever you want," Clara added.

Sara's hand went up Andrew's thigh to surround his erection. With the other hand he caressed Clara's belly, descended between her legs and found it moist. The three breathed at the same pace, without haste, constantly proving that the other one continued to enjoy.

Clara lay on her back and drew Sara over her. Her bodies fit naturally; breasts against breasts, thighs interlaced. Andres stood behind Sara, kissing her back, going down the spine to the bend of the buttocks. Sara arched back, seeking the contact of her mouth. Andres slowly licked the skin, leaving a damp trail that refreshed the contact with the air.

"More," Sarah whispered.

Clara kissed her more urgently, and her fingers went down until she opened it. Sara groaned against Clara’s mouth when Andrew penetrated her from behind with two fingers, at the same time as Clara rubbed her clitoris. The contrast between Clara’s soft caresses and Andrew’s firmest pressure made Sara tremble.

"I want to feel you both inside," Sarah said clearly.

Andres stood up, opened the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out a condom. Clara helped put it on while kissing Sarah to calm her down. Then she lay back again and spread her legs. Sara strung her ass over her, rubbing her sexes. Andres knelt behind Sarah and, with one hand on her hip, slowly entered her. Sara let go of a long, half drowned moan against Clara’s shoulder.

The movement was rhythmic and coordinated. Every assault of Andrew pushed Sara against Clara, and the three found pleasure in the continuous brush. Sara kissed Clara with her mouth ajar; their tongues were found and separated to the beats. Andrés kissed Sara’s neck, then Clara’s shoulder, linking the three people in the same heat circle.

"I am near," said Sarah, with a shortened voice.

Clara accelerated the movement of her fingers between Sara’s folds. Andres increased the depth of her onslaught, holding Sara’s hips firmly but without abruptness. Sara’s orgasm came in waves; she squeezed her legs against Clara and arched back, looking for Andrew’s mouth to kiss him as he trembled. Sara’s groaning made Clara also run, with a soft scream that resonated in the room.

Andres waited for both of them to calm down before he retired. He took off his condom, he cast it and left it in the trash. Then he lay beside the two women. Sara, still panting, looked for his hand and squeezed it.

"Thank you for asking everything before," said Sarah, kissing Andrew's knuckles. "It was exactly what I needed.

Clara curled up on the other side of Sara and kissed her temple.

"All night," he whispered, "and all summer, if you will.

Sara smiled, closed her eyes and breathed deeply, listening to the sea that continued to break against the rocks of Menorca. Outside, the moon began to rise above the pine trees; inside, three bodies adjusted comfortably, still united by the heat and for the certainty that nothing of what happened had been improvised or imposed.

The conversation would continue in the morning, but for now it was enough with the whisper of the waves and the certainty that everyone had asked and granted exactly what they wanted.