Tell Me What You Want

  That night, when Eric takes me home, I find my father in the backyard, sitting on the porch swing, and I go say hi.

  “This man is good for you, little girl.”

  “Oh yeah? Why?” I ask playfully as I take a seat next to him on the swing.

  “He looks at you the same way I used to look at your mother, and I like that. Until recently, I thought Fernando was the right man for you. But after meeting Eric, I’ve changed my mind. You and Eric are made for each other. You can see he’s a man of principle and dignity and that he would take care of you. He’s not like that fool I met in Madrid, pierced all over by needles and rings.”

  My father’s right. Eric has his principles, but I’m sure if my dad knew about his sex life, he’d have a stroke. Mercifully, that will remain my secret.

  “Papá . . . I like Eric, but I’m not sure how long we’ll last.”

  He’s surprised.

  “What’s going on, little girl?”

  My words are dying to come out. I’d like to tell my father Eric’s my boss, but I’m afraid of his reaction.

  “There’s nothing going on, Papá,” I finally say. “It’s just that it’s difficult to keep up a long-distance relationship. You already know he lives in Germany, and I live here. When he’s done with what he’s doing in Madrid, we’ll both return to our respective jobs, and, well . . . you understand.”

  “Look, my love. You’re not a little girl anymore. You’re a woman, and I have to treat you as one,” my father says, and then, with his usual caution, he adds, “That’s why all I can say is, enjoy the moment and be happy. It doesn’t do any good to think about ‘what will be,’ because what needs to happen . . . will happen. If you and Eric are destined to be together, there’s no distance that will keep you apart. But be cautious and a little selfish, and think about yourself. I don’t want to see you suffer unnecessarily.”

  My father’s words comfort me, like they always do.

  The next day, Eric comes by early and picks me up on his bike. Our little adventure begins. My father cheerfully says goodbye to us and wishes us a good trip. We visit Barbate and Conil. We eat and go to the beach there in the afternoon. When we get to Zahara de los Atunes, Eric’s phone buzzes and he brightens.

  “Andrés is waiting for us.”

  We climb back on the motorcycle and head toward the house. Given the confidence with which he moves on these country roads, I presume he’s been here before. After we speed down the road, we stop in front of a stone structure. Eric rings a bell; seconds later, an enormous black sheet door rolls up to open, and I’m left speechless. A resplendent garden with hundreds of colored flowers extends before me and frames a gorgeous little house in the distance.

  We ride up to the door, and Eric turns off the motorcycle. I dismount, and seconds later, Andrés and a woman with a baby in her arms come to meet us. Andrés is the doctor Eric called to look at my arm in Madrid, and that startles me.

  Andrés’s wife is named Frida, and the baby is Glen. Frida is German, like Eric, but speaks perfect Spanish, and we have great chemistry right away. A middle-aged woman comes and takes the baby. Then the four of us pass to a backyard, where an assistant brings us drinks. We chat, and I hear many entertaining anecdotes about their travels. Soon I realize the three of them share a friendship of many years. At around eight o’clock, Frida takes us to our room. It’s spacious, decorated exquisitely, and has a huge bed.

  As soon as we’re alone, Eric takes me in his arms and kisses me as he undresses me. Then he carries me to an enormous shower. When he turns the faucet, we both scream as the icy waters hit us. Eric’s kisses get more intense as does my desire for him. Suddenly, he lays me down on the shower floor and places himself on top of me as the water continues to cascade. He’s ravenous and bites my lips while I feel his hands running all over my body. I tremble from his touch.

  When his lips abandon my mouth, they descend to my breasts. My nipples are hard; when he nibbles them, I cry out. He continues his journey over my body, and I feel his tongue on my navel. He entertains himself there for an instant and then continues until his next stop.

  When I realize he’s stopped his exploration, I lift my head to see what he’s looking at, and I catch him staring at my tattoo.

  He kneels on the shower floor and urgently grabs at my hips to bring me to him. He separates my legs, takes the showerhead, and washes me. He drenches every inch of my vagina, delighted. Then he changes the intensity of the showerhead. There are fewer streams, but the water has more force.

  I can imagine what he’s going to do, and I don’t move; I want it.

  He leans down, places his tongue on my wet sex, and sucks. He zeros in on my clit, surrounds it with his tongue, and plays with it. He pampers it. He stretches it. He devours it. He drives me crazy. When he has me just how he wants, he picks up the showerhead again. Using two fingers, he separates the folds of my sex, and I feel the streams directly on my swollen clit.

  This is electrifying!

  I twist while he holds me down. The streams continue shooting forcefully on my clit and provoking hundreds of sensations. Heat envelops my body. When I orgasm, he lets go of the showerhead and brings his hard penis to my vagina. With one push, he drives deep into me.

  “All right, sweetness . . . I’m going to take your word for it. I’m going to ask you to give me what I want.”

  Spread out on the shower floor with Eric taking me so completely, I let him move me around however he likes. He continues pumping into me. As my sex tightens with each lunge, his penis grazes my clit so that soon I’m vibrating and beyond control. I have yet another marvelous orgasm, this time in unison with him.

  An instant later, he’s at my side, and the two of us are lying there on the floor of that enormous shower, staring at the ceiling while water continues to plummet all around us. His hand looks for mine and squeezes it. He brings it to his mouth, kissing my knuckles.

  “Jude . . . ,” he says, “what are you doing to me?”

  39

  At nine in the evening, after that stupendous shower experience (which I’m sure everyone in the world heard), we go down hand in hand to the living room. There we find Frida and Andrés making out, but they stop when they see us.

  We all go to the dining room and sit down around a marvelous table. Eric holds my chair for me and sits beside me. He looks happy. This is his world, and it’s obvious he’s comfortable here. The staff pours us wine and then serves an exquisite lobster. Eric orders a Coke for me. Between laughter and conversation, we finish the first course, and then they serve us the second, a delicious meat dish. After we’re done with the last treat, a heavenly ice cream they offer us as dessert, Frida suggests we go out to the garden.

  After attending to a phone call, Eric comes and sits by my side. I feel his constant caresses and notice he’s more introspective than he was just minutes ago. Even so, we talk into the wee hours of the morning, when we all decide to turn in.

  The sun pierces the giant window in our room when I wake up the next day. I’m alone in the room, and I stretch out on the bed. The sheets smell of Eric, and that pleases me. Remembering how he made love to me the night before excites me, revs me up, but instead of going down that road, I get up, go to the bathroom, and wash up.

  As I get dressed, I hear a buzz. It’s Eric’s cell. I find it on the nightstand and see Betta on the screen. That name again.

  As I arrive in the living room, I hear Andrés, Frida, and Eric laughing, but I’m surprised to find another man and woman with them. They introduce me to Frida’s parents, who have come to take Glen with them on vacation. I give Eric his cell and tell him he had a call from a certain Betta. He nods, puts it away in his pant pocket, and goes on like normal. Frida’s parents and baby Glen will leave tonight.

  When I wake up the next morning, I am once more alone in the bed. After I brush my teeth, I go out to the pool. Andrés grabs me and throws me in the water. We all laugh and have a good time. At about two in the afterno
on, the four of us take Andrés’s car to go shopping in Cádiz. We have just received an invitation to a Roaring Twenties theme party, and we have to buy something to wear.

  We get home at around one in the morning and go sit out on the gorgeous terrace. I like to feel Eric so close, so receptive, so attentive to me. Andrés goes to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of champagne. After that first one, there’s a second, which I drink more slowly but enjoy nonetheless.

  Frida and Andrés are incredible hosts. They want us to feel at home, and the warm welcome they give us ensures that we do. At about three o’clock in the morning, it’s really hot, and Frida suggests we take a dip in the pool.

  I immediately accept and rush up to the room to put on my bikini. When I come down, Frida is already in the water with Andrés, and Eric is waiting for me at the edge of the pool. As soon as I come near him, he grabs me to throw me in, but I take us both down in a big splash. Between laughing and partying, we hang out for a bit until Frida and I go sit on the pool’s wide steps while Eric and Andrés swim laps.

  When the guys come back to join us, Andrés locks on to Frida’s foot and drags her out to the middle of the pool. She protests, but two seconds later, she is laughing uproariously. Playfully, Eric takes me in his arms and has me straddle him.

  The water comes up to about our waists, and soon his hands are sneaking under my bikini and touching me. Nervous, I give him a scolding look, and he laughs.

  “Eric!” I say in reprimand. “Don’t do that. They can see us.”

  His answer is a torrid kiss that quickly warms my soul. His mouth and hands already have me at the prelaunch point he likes so much.

  “Calm down, sweetness,” he whispers, while taking a quick look at our hosts. “Neither Andrés nor Frida is going to freak out about this.”

  Curious, I follow his gaze to the other couple and see them ardently kissing. In fact, I see Andrés unbutton the top of Frida’s bikini and let it float away on the surface of the water. I quickly come back to Eric, hoping for an explanation.

  “Yes, little girl . . . they like to play too.”

  I start to shiver when the other two come up to us, and it’s not from the cold. Frida is frisky and gets out of the pool. She sits on the edge next to us, her breasts shiny and slippery, while Andrés comes up behind me and puts his hands on my waist. Seeing the expression on my face, Eric shakes his head; Andrés lets go immediately and gets out of the pool. He kisses Frida, and they both disappear into the chalet.

  I don’t know what to do with myself, but I feel my vagina becoming slick and opening inside.

  Noticing how tense I am, Eric gets up from the steps and, without letting me go, swims to the middle of the pool. I desperately hold on to him.

  “Relax, sweetness. When you’re with me, you’ll never do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “Do they,” I whisper, “play the same games you play?”

  “Yes.”

  “And . . . ?”

  “Jude, you have to understand what I told you a while back. Sex is just sex. Frida and Andrés are a very committed couple who have a very clear understanding about what they like sexually. Together, we’ve gone to swingers’ clubs and have enjoyed trios and orgies. But when they come home, they continue being themselves. Andrés and Frida. A couple. The three of us love to play the game, to be curious and experiment, but once it’s over, we respect one another as people. As a matter of fact, the party we’re invited to tomorrow is . . .”

  “A party where everybody plays, right?”

  “If you don’t want to go, we don’t have to.”

  For a while, we both stay quiet until we float back to the steps.

  “Here,” he says, and takes my hand, “let’s get into the Jacuzzi.”

  I follow him.

  “It’s so warm,” I whisper as I wade in.

  “It’s too hot.” Eric presses a few buttons, and seconds later, the water cools.

  We’re quiet while bubbles burst around us, until he draws me to him again and has me straddle him anew.

  “See what you do to me?” he says as he squeezes my sex against his penis.

  “Yes.” I smile, but I can’t help it and have to ask, “What would you have liked to have happened in the pool?”

  He leans his head back.

  “Oh . . . love. I would have liked for many things to have happened.”

  “Such as?” I press.

  Eric raises his chin.

  “Mmm . . . I would have probably liked to see you and Frida together. I like the way women do things. It excites me to look at them.”

  “What about men?”

  “Men don’t do much for me.”

  That amuses me.

  “I was asking if your fantasies only include women.”

  “No, my fantasies are broader. I adore seeing two women making love, although I like to share them later with other men.”

  “And do you see yourself sharing me with other men?”

  “If you’d like, yes,” he says, smiling.

  Just talking about it excites me. It arouses me much more than imagining myself with another woman. Eric looks right at me.

  “Your pleasure is my pleasure, and if you ask, I will share you. But when the moment comes, I will be the one in charge of the game. You’re mine, and I want that to be very clear.”

  “You said you and Andrés have played with Frida?” I whisper. I’m getting restless.

  “Yes.” He brings his mouth near my ear. “Do you want me to share you with another man?”

  Just imagining it arouses me, disturbs me, stimulates me.

  “Eric . . .”

  “Oh . . . little girl, I think I’m going to have to tie you up pretty soon. You’re much more curious than I imagined, but I like your curiosity; it drives me crazy.”

  That makes me laugh. I offer him my mouth, which he eagerly takes.

  “If we go to that party tomorrow, what’s going to happen?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “But . . . but once there . . .”

  “People go there to do what they’ll do, sweetness. Everyone’s looking for the same thing: sex. If you want, you’ll have sex. You can look or you can take part; it all depends on you.”

  “And you . . . what do you want?”

  Eric presses his mouth to my neck.

  “After this very interesting conversation, which has me hard as a rock, what I’m going to want to do is to fuck you and for them to fuck you. I adore your expression when you come. And since now I know what gets you going, I want to offer your breasts, your sex, and to watch.”

  Everything he says provokes the desired effect in me. Now I want to play out any of those fantasies. My breathing is heated; Eric is loving this.

  “Your body is telling me to ask you anything. And I know that, right now, you’d do anything I ask because you’re so inflamed, you’re so hot that you want it this minute, right?”

  “Yes,” I confess. He gets up and offers me his hand.

  “C’mon, come with me.”

  I don’t doubt him for a minute. I take his hand, and we leave the Jacuzzi.

  He grabs a towel and wraps it around my body. He dries me with astonishing tenderness.

  “Jude . . . you have to understand that I will never do anything without your consent.”

  “I’m afraid of the unknown, but I do want to explore by your side.”

  My answer seems to please him, and he kisses me. We walk back into the house together. Instead of taking me up to our room, he turns us down a different hallway. Suddenly, I hear panting, and when we get to a half-open door, he stops.

  “Andrés and Frida are in here. Do you want to go in?”

  I nod. “Just as long as you don’t leave my side,” I murmur.

  “Have no doubt about that, love. You’re mine.”

  I love his dominance. When we enter the room, my breathing becomes irregular again. I’m nervous, worked up but also afraid. I spy a round bed in the
middle of an enormous blue room. There’s music, and Frida and Andrés are sixty-nining. When they notice us, they stop what they’re doing and look at us. Eric closes the door and takes the towel from around me. I’m trembling.

  “You decide, Jude.”

  His voice brings me back to reality.

  “I want to play,” I say as the other two continue to gaze at us.

  Eric kisses me. Then he looks over at Andrés, who’s nude and gets up from the bed. He circles us and comes around to my back. I just look at Eric as his friend unbuttons my bikini top and pulls it off.

  My breasts graze Eric’s chest, and my nipples quickly harden. My Adonis doesn’t take his eyes off me. He’s serious and unruffled.

  “Andrés, take off her bikini bottom,” he says, directing his friend.

  His voice electrifies me. And when I feel Andrés’s fingers pull my bikini bottom down, I gasp. I sense his breath on my ass, and that gives me goose bumps.

  Once I am nude, my arousal is such that all fear has disappeared and I’m primed to experiment. Eric grins because he knows I’m ready.

  “Can I touch her?” asks Andrés behind my back.

  Eric looks at me and I nod.

  “Yes,” Eric responds.

  An instant later, Andrés’s hands are all over my body. He touches my breasts, my waist. When his fingers arrive at my sex, he buries one of them, and I gasp again. Then Frida replaces Eric. She squats, makes me open my legs, and her mouth goes directly to my sex.

  I close my eyes. My legs are shaking, and Andrés and Frida touch me and enjoy me. Looking on, Eric brings his mouth to me and whispers, “Yes . . . like that . . . enjoy yourself for me.”

  For a few minutes, I feel like a piece of candy. Four hands are all over my body, and two mouths strive to make me shudder while Eric watches, his eyes shiny with lust. Suddenly, Eric touches Frida’s head, and she stops touching me. She turns around and starts caressing his body. She dips her hand in his bathing suit, extracts his penis, and brings it to her mouth. She begins to lick its full length.