René and Marcela face an interview that transforms into an erotic and revealing experience, testing their limits and the complicity in their relationship. Desire, jealousy, and exploration mixed in a game of power and pleasure.
René adjusted the strap of his bag as he watched his wife, Marcela, walk in front of him. The tight shorts she wore highlighted every curve of her mature body, especially her generous backside, which moved with a hypnotic cadence. He knew that outfit was no accident; Marcela had chosen the garment carefully, aware of the effect it would have on the man who would interview her. René felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness, but also a morbid curiosity that urged him to move forward with the plan.
The interview would take place in a private apartment, a discreet location away from prying eyes. The man, an acquaintance of René, had insisted that Marcela be part of the process, assuring that her presence would be an "added value" for the evaluation. René, although initially skeptical, had agreed, seduced by the idea of exploring unknown territory in their relationship.
Upon arrival, the interviewer, a tall man with an intense gaze named Javier, greeted them with a smile that failed to conceal his interest in Marcela. His eyes settled on her from the first moment, scanning her body with a boldness that René found both disturbing and exciting.
—Come in, please —Javier said, gesturing towards the inside of the apartment.
The place was spacious and modern, with a black leather sofa dominating the living room. René noticed that Javier had prepared the ambiance carefully: the lights were dim, and a bottle of red wine rested on the table, accompanied by two glasses.
—Please sit down —Javier invited, indicating the sofa.
Marcela sat gracefully, crossing her legs so that her shorts tightened even more, revealing a glimpse of her bare thigh. René sat beside her, feeling the tension in the air, as if every word spoken was loaded with a hidden meaning.
The interview began with formal questions about René's work and skills, but Javier soon diverted the conversation to more personal topics. His questions became more suggestive, and his gaze never left Marcela, who maintained a shy but not entirely innocent attitude.
—And Marcela, what do you think about... say, the dynamics of power in a relationship? —Javier asked, leaning forward.
Marcela lowered her gaze, fiddling with the edge of her shorts. Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.
—I think... that every relationship is unique. Sometimes, it's exciting to explore... new roles.
René felt a shiver upon hearing her. He knew those words were not casual; Marcela was playing with Javier, seducing him with her calculated shyness. Javier, for his part, could not conceal his excitement. His breathing became more rapid, and René noticed his hand moving restlessly on his thigh.
Suddenly, Javier stood up and took a few steps towards Marcela. René held his breath, knowing the moment they had anticipated was about to arrive. Javier stopped behind Marcela, and without saying a word, began to rub his erection against her backside. The movement was slow, deliberate, as if he were marking his territory.
Marcela tensed slightly, but did not move. Her expression remained shy, but her eyes shone with a spark of excitement. René, meanwhile, felt divided between the thrill of seeing his wife in that situation and the jealousy that began to rise in his chest.
—Do you like it, Marcela? —Javier whispered, his hot breath in her ear.
She didn't respond with words, but her body spoke for itself. Her hands clutched the sofa cushions, and her head tilted back, exposing her neck. Javier took advantage of the invitation, kissing and nibbling her skin, while his hips continued to move in a slow, provocative rhythm.
René discreetly took out his phone and placed it on the table, activating the camera to record the scene. He wanted to capture every detail, every gesture, every sound. The image of Marcela, with her tight shorts and her body responding to the touch of another man, was too erotic to leave only in his memory.
Javier began to unbutton Marcela's blouse with expert hands. The fabric fell from her shoulders, revealing her black lace bra. René felt a lump in his throat seeing his wife exposed like that, her pale skin contrasting with the darkness of the lace.
—You are so beautiful, Marcela —Javier whispered, as his lips rested on her shoulder.
She moaned softly, a sound that was both pleasure and surrender. Javier guided her to the sofa, where he carefully laid her down. René watched as Javier's hands moved over Marcela's body, unbuckling her shorts and sliding them down her legs. Her underwear soon followed the same path, exposing her wet and pink sex.
Javier knelt between her legs, looking at her with an intensity that René found almost intimidating. With expert fingers, he began to masturbate her, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were savoring every moment. Marcela arched her back, her breasts rising and falling to the rhythm of her accelerated breathing.
—Oh, God... —she moaned, her voice hoarse with desire.
René moved a little closer, ensuring the camera captured every detail. The image of Marcela, with her beautiful and shy face, contrasted with the evident pleasure in her body. Her legs opened wider, inviting Javier to deepen his exploration.
—You are so wet, Marcela —Javier murmured, as his fingers moved faster, getting wet with her juices.
She didn't answer, but her hips lifted from the sofa, seeking more contact. René felt a pang of jealousy seeing her so surrendered, but also an excitement that consumed him. The idea that another man was touching his wife, bringing her to the brink of pleasure, was both a betrayal and a liberation.
Javier got up and unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. Marcela looked at him with bright eyes, and without saying a word, she sat on the sofa, opening her legs in a silent invitation. Javier needed no further invitation; he positioned himself in front of her and guided her to sit on him.
The wet and lascivious sound of their intimate parts joining filled the room. Marcela began to move, riding Javier with a rhythm that was both sensual and desperate. Her white, round ass moved with each thrust, an image that René avidly captured.
—Oh, yes... —Marcela moaned, her voice filling the room.
René moved closer, ensuring the camera captured every angle. Javier and Marcela's kisses were perverse, their tongues intertwining with a passion that was both physical and emotional. Both their mouths were decorated with desire, bright and red, as if they had been painted with the fire of their lust.
—Faster... —Marcela begged, her nails digging into Javier's shoulders.
He obeyed, his hips moving with more force, while Marcela let herself be carried away by pleasure. René watched, feeling his own excitement grow, but also a mix of emotions he couldn't decipher. Was this a betrayal or a liberation? Was he sharing his wife or simply allowing her to explore her own desire?
The room was full of sounds: Marcela's moans, Javier's gasps, and the constant rhythm of their bodies joining. René felt like a privileged spectator, but also a silent participant, sharing Marcela's pleasure through his lens.
When Marcela finally reached climax, her body tensed, and a scream of pleasure escaped her lips. Javier followed shortly after, his body trembling as he emptied inside her. The silence that followed was almost as intense as the sounds that had preceded it.
René turned off the camera, feeling a mix of overwhelming emotions. Marcela, still sitting on Javier, looked at him with bright eyes, her expression a mixture of shyness and satisfaction. Javier, meanwhile, hugged her, kissing her forehead tenderly.
—Thank you, Marcela —he murmured.
She smiled, a smile that was for both Javier and René. He approached, taking her hand and helping her up. The room smelled of sex and desire, a fragrance that was both intoxicating and liberating.
—Are you okay? —René asked, his voice soft.
Marcela nodded, but didn't say anything. Her expression was blank, as if she were processing what had just happened. René hugged her, feeling her still trembling body against his.
—Was it... too much? —he asked, his voice full of concern.
Marcela shook her head, but didn't look him in the eyes.
—No... it was... it was incredible —she finally whispered.
René kissed her on the forehead, feeling a surge of love for her. But there was something else too, something he couldn't name. Was it jealousy? Or was it something deeper, something that was pushing him to explore unknown territories in their relationship?
The question hung in the air, unanswered, as the three prepared to leave the apartment. René knew that this would not be the end, but only the beginning of something that would change their relationship forever. And as they walked toward the door, he couldn't help but wonder if Marcela's pleasure was a betrayal or a liberation. The answer, it seemed, was still to be discovered.