The Secret My Neighbor and I Passed Through the Bars

Fourth day of vacation, and I woke up with a jolt, with an energy I hadn’t felt in months. I jumped out of bed and went straight down to the kitchen. While I was spreading butter on my toast, my mother came in dragging her slippers across the floor.

—Well, Marcos, what’s got into you? Did you fall out of bed? —she joked, smiling.

I smiled, though it seemed a little unfair to me. I was on vacation; for once I had every right to get up early just because I felt like it.

—Good morning, Mom. I fell and you wouldn’t believe the smack I took —I played along—. I think today I’m going to have to rest all day to recover.

—What a little bastard you are —she laughed—. Hey, if you’ve got nothing to do, give me a hand later, okay?

—Sure, Mom.

While I finished breakfast, I watched her moving around the kitchen, collecting plates and putting things in order. Until that week, my mother had always been just that: my mother. I had never looked at her as a woman. But the night before, Lucía had jokingly asked me to bring her a pair of her panties, and suddenly I was seeing her with different eyes.

She wasn’t bad at all. She didn’t have my aunt’s style, the kind that dominated any family meal, but when I looked closely I was surprised. She wore a loose, short dress that didn’t show much, although her legs were slim and her face was pretty, framed by dark hair she had worn in a ponytail for as long as I could remember. I kept staring at her body, trying to imagine what the dress was hiding. Because the fabric was light-colored, it was a little see-through, and I would swear I made out the outline of white panties in front. I can’t believe my mother wears a thong.

To make matters worse, a handful of cherries fell to the floor right in front of me. I went to bend down and pick them up, but she got there first.

—Don’t worry, I’ll get them —she said, bending her knees.

When she leaned over, the dress’s neckline opened and I saw she wasn’t wearing a bra, I suppose because of the heat. I was speechless. Without meaning to, I caught myself thinking about what those breasts would feel like against the palm of my hand, and that immediately scared me.

—Mom, I’m going to read for a while —I blurted out—. When you need me, call me.

—Thanks, son. I’ll finish here and call you. Half an hour at most.

I left the kitchen uneasy and sat in the living room with a book I was incapable of reading. What kind of son sits there thinking about his mother’s body? Although, after what I’d been doing with Lucía the last few nights, I shouldn’t have been that surprised that I’d turned into a filthy bastard.

I was still mulling all that over when she called me from the back of the house.

—Marcos, come help me, please.

They had decided to empty out the back room and turn it into a guest room. For whom? No idea, but the point was everything had to be taken out and hauled up to the garage loft.

The morning disappeared in a thousand trips between the room and the garage. Books, gadgets, picture frames, boxes and more boxes kept coming out of one place to end up in the other. We both ended up soaked in sweat, but the work was manageable and the jokes between my mother and me actually made it fun. At last the room was empty.

—Wonderful —she said—. Thank you so much, son. Without you it would have taken me a week.

—Don’t be silly, Mom. It would have taken you a year.

—Oh, stop. You can go now; I’ll take care of the loft myself.

—No way. We’ll do it together and finish sooner. I’m not comfortable seeing you go up and down the ladder with the boxes.

—Oh, what a wonderful son I have! —she exaggerated—. I don’t deserve you!

—On that, you’re right. Consider yourself lucky.

***

We went into the garage, which looked like a battlefield. I took the ladder off the wall, placed it under the loft hatch, and made sure it was steady; the last thing we needed was to kill my mother. Once everything was ready, she climbed up and leaned through the opening, putting the boxes into place while I handed them up from below.

I grabbed the first one and, when I moved closer to give it to her, I realized my mistake. I was right underneath her. Her legs disappeared beneath the dress and, if I lifted my gaze a little more, I’d see everything. I shook my head and decided not to look. I passed her the boxes with my arms stretched out to keep my distance and resist the temptation.

But after a few my shoulders started hurting and my will began to waver. Would she be wearing a thong? What would it really be like? In the end I couldn’t take it anymore. I brought her a box and, while she was finishing putting the previous one away, I lifted my eyes. I saw her slender ankles, marked calves, firm thighs, and above them, a white thong. The little triangle of fabric in front, the thin string disappearing between her buttocks. She was shaved, although a few dark hairs were escaping along the edges.

—Come on, Marcos, you’re falling asleep —she said, pulling me out of my trance—. A couple more and we’re done.

—Just when I was starting to enjoy myself —I answered, with a double meaning only I understood.

With the last box I sneaked another look. She was so hot that a bead of sweat gathered at the edge of the fabric, slid off, and ran down the inside of her thigh leaving a shiny trail. I stayed hypnotized, thinking what that underwear must smell like. I couldn’t wait to tell Lucía. I felt a stab of guilt —enjoying my own mother’s underwear like that— but I remembered Lucía hadn’t just given me a pair of her panties; she had also let me dirty the ones she was going to wear the next day. The idea drove me wild, and that was the only thing that mattered.

***

When we finished, we were wrecked and sweaty, almost at lunchtime. We sat in the shade with a couple of beers and chatted about nonsense, though I was distracted. After lunch, while I sprawled in front of the TV, my mother lay down on the sofa to take a nap.

After a while, her breathing relaxed and she fell deeply asleep. I took the opportunity to look at her calmly. She really was a pretty woman. Little by little she shifted until she settled into a fetal position, with her back to me, and with that movement the dress rode up, leaving almost all of her thighs bare. One more centimeter and her panties would be visible. She let out a sigh, got comfortable, and the fabric gave way completely. There it was again, the white thong, sinking between her buttocks, with those same black hairs escaping at the sides. I was getting nervous and turned on, so I got up and went straight to the shower.

In our house, we’ve never been modest. The bathroom doors don’t close, so I wasn’t surprised to hear my mother on the other side of the curtain asking me to let her know when I was done. Luckily she didn’t draw it back, because she would have seen the erection I came out with. Then a little evil idea came to me: when I finished, I left the soap outside the shower, dried off, and told her she could come in. I went to my room and, just as I expected, after a short while I heard her calling me.

—Marcos, can you pass me the soap? Why did you take it out?

I rushed over. I picked it up from where I had left it and, with a movement I pretended was casual, I pulled the curtain back a little and stuck my head in.

—Sorry, Mom, what did you say? —I asked with all the innocence I could muster.

—I said pass me the soap —she replied irritably—. Why did you take it with you?

—I dropped it when I got out and left it there without thinking. Here —I said, extending my arm—. I’m going out for a bit, okay? I’ll be back in a while.

I turned away with the image seared into my mind: water sliding over her body, the dark hair outlined in a triangle. Does my mother groom herself like that? The rest of the afternoon felt endless. The sky went from blue to a thick black while I counted the minutes. I ate dinner quickly, avoiding looking her in the eyes, and a little before midnight I headed out to my nightly meeting, not before stopping by the laundry basket. There it was, the white thong, under the dress she had worn all day. I slipped it into my pocket without looking too closely: it was for Lucía.

***

I arrived at her house after midnight. The light in the small bathroom, that barred room where we met, was on. I crept closer and recognized Lucía’s crown of hair. When I peeked in, I found her sitting on the toilet.

—Hi —I whispered.

She lifted her head, recognized me, and smiled, not at all embarrassed.

—You’re catching me at a bad time —she said, slyly, while taking toilet paper and wiping herself without taking her eyes off me—. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling that someday you’d like to see me up close.

I was so thrown off I didn’t know what to answer, and that only widened her smile. She stood up and took off her shorts, leaving only a strapless top and white panties.

—Hey, did you bring me what I asked for? —she asked slowly.

—Yes, of course —I decided to make her wait—. I brought you the thong my mother wore all day. We’ve been moving junk nonstop, so they’re sweaty.

Her eyes widened a little more.

—Really? Has she sweated a lot?

—A ton —I answered, prolonging the suspense—. When she climbed a ladder, I saw the sweat run down her legs. At that moment they were soaked; now a little less.

—Will you let me see them, please? —she asked, almost shyly.

—All yours —I said, taking them out of my pocket and passing them through the bars.

She took them in one hand while the other was already slipping under the elastic of her panties. She brought the fabric to her nose and inhaled deeply.

—Damn, they smell so strong —she murmured, flushed.

She ran her tongue over the garment, over and over, moaning softly so as not to wake anyone. Then she pressed it against her pussy over her underwear and started rubbing hard. I had already pulled my cock out and was masturbating slowly, not missing a single detail. Less than a minute had passed when she came, biting her lip to smother the cry, her legs trembling.

—Fuck, Marcos —she panted when she caught her breath—. I think I’ve never come like that before. I brought you something too.

She opened a drawer in a little cabinet and took out another pair of panties.

—They’re my cousin Carla’s. With these you’ll have smelled half the family already —she said, laughing at her own brazenness—. I hope you like them, they’re a bit special: she’s on her period.

Intrigued, I took them and examined them. They were flesh-colored, I suppose not thongs so they’d be more comfortable for her. Where there would usually be more residue, this time there was almost nothing, but along the edges a dried pinkish fluid could be seen. I brought them to my nose: the smell of woman was soft, different, with a metallic edge, like iron. I stuck out my tongue and tasted it; there wasn’t much substance, but there was an intense flavor that clung to my palate.

In front of me, Lucía had started touching herself again, now at a slower pace, watching me. Seeing her like that, knowing it turned her on as much as it turned me on, with the taste of her cousin still on my tongue, made my hand move faster until I came, pressing the panties against the tip to catch every last drop. When I gave the final shake, I brought them up to the bars.

—Shall we swap? —I said.

She rubbed herself a little more with my mother’s thong and handed it over to me. I was surprised by how much it weighed; it was literally soaked through with her. I couldn’t stop myself: I pressed it against my face until I felt the aroma of her pleasure. Meanwhile, she was licking her cousin’s panties with my semen on them, as if they were ice cream. We kept at it for quite a while, exploring smells and tastes without ever taking our eyes off each other, without a shred of shame for what we were doing.

—Hey, Lucía —I said at last, calmer now—. I have to tell you something.

—What? —she asked, with her finger already on the switch to turn off the light.

—Tomorrow is my last night here. Thursday I go back to Valencia.

—Oh —she said, with a sad expression that immediately turned into a crooked smile—. Then I’m going to ask you for something I’ve wanted for a long time.

And with that, she switched off the light. I saw her silhouette moving away down the hallway. What a bitch. She always left me wanting more than before. I turned around and headed home, knowing I wouldn’t get any sleep the next night thinking about what was waiting for me.