Nerea_insaciable

I got home and she threw herself into my arms in front of everyone. No one suspected that the kiss on the cheek was hiding the desire we’d been holding back all week.

It was my daughter’s wedding, but it was him I looked for in the crowd. A ballad, the sand under our feet, and suddenly he was no longer just my son.

My mother got up from the chair, kissed me on the mouth, and without saying a word slid her hand under my pajamas. Only then did I understand what my parents had agreed to during the night.

Lucía never told that part. That Thursday she dressed the only way she knew how and made sure that virgin nephew wouldn’t leave without leaving something inside her.

I slipped in quietly and found him by the window, absorbed in what was happening across the street. My youngest son was no longer a boy, and I saw everything.

The dress was French-blue voile, almost transparent. My father was in front of me. My husband to the left. And the French guest still didn’t understand what was going to happen that night.

When she opened the door and found us, I thought the family was over that afternoon. What I didn’t expect was to hear her confess, right in my ear, desires she’d kept hidden for years.

For years I thought fun meant books and documentaries. Then she locked the bedroom door and started undressing in front of the two of us.

When we arrived at my father-in-law’s house, I thought the send-off would be like any other—until I saw my mother-in-law coming down the stairs with that look I already knew.

I walked into the living room and found him waiting with something hidden behind his back. His smile told me before he did that the night wouldn’t be normal.

Three years without seeing him, and the second he stepped back into the house I knew I couldn’t keep pretending what I felt was just sisterly love.

She showed him the photos with a nervous smile. It took him three seconds to understand what he was looking at, and three more to decide he wasn’t going to stop.

She got on my bike in that tight leather outfit and told me to go slow. But neither of us wanted to go slow that night.

I had her underwear in one hand and her phone in the other when I heard the front door open. Camila was there, staring at me from the hallway.

When the system blinked green and the screen sharpened, the last thing I expected was Camila approaching the armchair where my husband read the paper, completely naked.