Mateo’s Mother Made Me Come Into Her Bedroom

Back then I was in my second year of computer engineering at the public university. The scholarship covered tuition, but not much else, so between classes I made a living doing odd jobs. I installed equipment, removed viruses, repaired appliances, and put up antennas for the neighbors in the neighborhood. Word of mouth worked well, and I almost always had something to do on weekends.

Mateo had been my best friend since high school. He had just started working for a logistics company, so he hardly had time for anything. One Saturday morning I ran into him at the café on the corner and, after the usual hellos, he asked me a favor.

—My old lady bought a new TV, one of those huge ones —he said, stirring his coffee—. She doesn’t even know how to plug it in. Up for going over and setting it up for her? She’ll pay you, obviously.

—No problem. When?

—Whenever works for you in the afternoon. I won’t be there, but she’s home after five. I’ll text you her number.

Mateo explained, without quite looking at me, that his father Roberto was still up to his same old habit. He’d leave work and stay out drinking and playing dice with the guys from the shop until well past midnight. Liliana, his mother, practically lived alone in that new house they’d bought near the park.

I’d known Liliana for years. Mateo had always been the last to arrive at school because she’d had him when she was barely nineteen, and by then she still wasn’t forty-two. She was a tall woman, with narrow shoulders and pronounced hips, and brown hair cut at the nape of her neck. When we went to study at her place, the guys in the group made jokes behind her back. They commented on how well she’d kept herself, the roundness of her ass, the firmness of her tits. I laughed too, but I had never imagined anything with her. She was my friend’s mother, end of story.

The following Monday I called her and we agreed I’d come by Wednesday at six. I showed up with my tool bag and rang the bell. She took just long enough to open that I wondered if I’d gotten the time wrong.

Liliana appeared wearing a short burgundy silk robe, badly tied at the waist. Underneath, I could make out a beige nightdress, thin, almost sheer, that barely covered half her thigh. When she leaned in to kiss me on both cheeks I caught her perfume and, at the same time, felt a jolt shoot straight to my crotch. I greeted her as best I could and pretended to be busy looking at the TV box on the floor of the entryway.

—It’s in my room —she said, letting me pass—. I want to watch it from bed.

I followed her down the hall, trying not to look at the hem of her nightdress. Her bedroom was large, with an enormous double bed and a low dark-wood cabinet where I’d have to set the set. I put my bag on the floor, took out the tools, and got to work.

The problem was that she didn’t leave. She stayed standing beside me, leaning against the doorframe, watching every move. I was trying to focus on the screws of the bracket, but I could feel her breathing close by, and every time I looked up I ran into her legs, the curve of her thigh, the shape of her breasts under the fabric.

—Want me to bring you a beer? —she asked.

—Sure, thanks.

She came back a minute later with a cold can. I was still crouched down, screwing in the base. When she leaned over to hand it to me, the robe parted and the neckline of the nightdress fell forward. I saw her breasts in full, with large, dark areolas, the nipples standing up as if she were cold. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She hadn’t worn a bra all afternoon.

I swallowed and took the can without saying anything. She lingered longer than necessary, supposedly adjusting the cable behind the cabinet, and leaned over again. When she straightened up she held my eyes for a second too long, then dropped her gaze to the fly of my jeans, where the bulge was impossible to hide.

—I need to get something from up there —she murmured, pointing to the shelf over the cabinet.

She went up on tiptoe right beside me. The nightdress rode up to her hip. She had toned legs and the black fabric of a tiny thong outlined the shape of her cunt with a clarity that left my mouth dry. Her pubic hair showed through the lace. I stood there staring like an idiot, for too long. I coughed, looked down at my tool, and then I heard her low laugh.

—You were looking at me, weren’t you?

—Sorry, Liliana. It wasn’t on purpose.

—You were only looking at my legs?

She had her eyes fixed on my crotch. She was smiling without hiding it.

—I can see how much it got you worked up —she went on—. You must’ve seen the thong too. You’re a bold one.

I wanted to say something witty, but all I managed was a shrug. She took two steps closer, snatched the can out of my hand, and leaned over again, this time in front of me, putting her breasts at eye level.

—And my tits? —she asked—. You like those too?

—Ma’am, they’re… gorgeous. Firm.

—Liliana.

—Liliana.

What happened next moved so fast I didn’t have time to process it. She untied her robe, let it fall to the floor, and slid the straps of her nightdress down over her shoulders. The fabric dropped to her waist and her breasts came bare, round, firm, with nipples so hard they seemed to be pointing at the ceiling. I was still crouched there, Allen key in one hand and beer in the other, completely frozen.

She backed up to the foot of the bed. Without saying a word, she finished pulling the nightdress down to her ankles and nudged it aside with her foot. She stood there in nothing but the thong, looking at me with a smile that left no room for doubt.

***

I set the tools on the floor and stood up. I wasn’t about to go home with my head stuck on what had just happened. She was my best friend’s mother, but that afternoon, in that bedroom, she was just a woman standing in front of me almost naked.

I moved up to her and hugged her from behind. I kissed her neck, the lobe of her ear, and let my hands climb to her breasts. They were warm and heavy, much firmer than I’d imagined. I pinched her nipples with my fingertips and felt her shudder against my chest. Her ass instinctively pressed back against my crotch and started rubbing, slowly.

—No one’s touched me for months —she whispered—. Roberto doesn’t get home before two.

I slid one hand down her belly until I slipped it inside the thong. She was soaked. The pubic hair was thick, dense, and her lips parted the moment my fingers passed through the slit. I started stroking her calmly, drawing short circles over her clit, and she gave a small moan, biting her lip.

She suddenly turned around and knelt in front of me. She undid my belt with quick fingers, pulled my jeans down to my knees, and stared at the bulge in my boxer briefs.

—Roberto doesn’t have it like that —she said more to herself than to me.

She pulled the boxers down and my cock slapped against my stomach. Liliana’s eyes went wide.

—My God.

She took it in both hands, examining it as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing, and took it into her mouth in one motion. She knew what she was doing. Too well. She had technique you didn’t learn in just one night. I had to pull her head away after a long minute, because if she kept going like that I was going to come in her mouth too soon.

I lifted her up, pulled the thong down to her ankles, and gently guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. I spread her legs. The hairy mound of Venus, the sex open and shining with moisture, all of it seemed to be asking me to finish her right there. But she pulled me back until I fell onto the mattress, then sat up.

—Me on top —she said—. I want to see how it goes in.

She stood on the mattress, one knee on either side of my hips, and started to lower herself. She held my cock with her hand, placed it against her wet lips, and came down an inch, two, three. I could feel how tight she was, scorching hot, much tighter than I’d expected for a woman her age.

—Oh… wait —she panted—. I’m really tight. You’re huge.

She lowered herself a little more. I clenched my teeth. When she was just over halfway down, she went still. She bit her lip, took a deep breath, and then suddenly stood back up.

—Wait. Not without protection. I’m still fertile.

She leaned over to the nightstand and took a condom out of the drawer. She tore the packet open with her teeth and tried to put it on me. It didn’t fit. The head went in and nothing else. The rubber squeezed me like a tourniquet.

—I can’t believe this —she murmured—. It won’t go on you. What size are you?

—Large. Always.

She looked at me with a mix of frustration and desire. She stood there for a second thinking, the condom hanging uselessly between her fingers. Then she yanked it off and threw it to the floor.

—Promise me one thing —she said, climbing back on top of me—. When you’re about to come, you tell me and pull out. Whatever happens, you pull out.

—I promise.

She settled over me again and this time dropped all at once, all her weight, right to the hilt. She screamed. I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t finish right there. Her walls clamped around me like a closed, hot fist.

***

After the first minute something loosened in her, just enough for her to start moving. She did it slowly at first, rocking her hips in circles, and then quickly found her rhythm. She went up and down with a control you only learn after years in bed. She dug her nails into my shoulders, leaned forward to bite my neck, straightened so I could grab her breasts.

—You fill me so well —she kept saying—. You fill me so well, my God.

She came the first time riding me without warning. I felt the spasm run through her whole body, the walls squeezing me so hard I thought she was going to split me in two. She collapsed onto my chest, panting, her mouth against my neck.

—You didn’t cum —she said when she caught her breath—. You held out.

—I held out.

—You’re a gentleman.

She let out a low, rough laugh and stood up. My cock slid out of her, dripping. She looked at me with a new shine in her eyes.

—One more —she said—. And this time you’re on top. But you pull out, okay? You pull out.

She got on all fours in the center of the bed, her ass raised toward me. I knelt behind her, grabbed her hips, and drove into her in one thrust. She buried her face in the pillow to muffle the cry. I started pounding her with everything I’d been holding back since the moment she opened the door.

I fucked her hard, without pause, watching her ass bounce against my pelvis. I grabbed her hair with one hand, not to pull, just to hold it, and with the other I held her waist. She pushed back at the same rhythm, moaning into the pillow, repeating things I couldn’t quite understand.

When I felt I was about to finish, I pulled out. Liliana turned her body just in time, sat up on her knees, and grabbed my cock with both hands. I came over her chest and stomach in an amount I hadn’t even expected from myself. She looked me in the face while I did it, smiling, satisfied with having gotten every last drop out of me.

—My God —she murmured, running a finger over her skin—. If you’d finished inside me, I wouldn’t have gotten up for a week.

***

We lay there for a while without talking. She went to the bathroom, showered, came back in her white robe, and sat on the edge of the bed. I finished installing the TV almost in silence, my hands still shaking. When I was done, I explained how to change the input and how to search for channels. She nodded without really listening.

—How much do I owe you?

—Nothing. It’s fine.

She smiled. She came to the door and kissed me on both cheeks, lingering on the second one longer than necessary. Before letting me out, she rested her hand on my crotch.

—I’m sure one of my appliances will break soon —she said—. I’ll call you.

I went down the building stairs without remembering to breathe. When I reached the lobby and stepped out into the street, the night air hit my face and then I finally understood what had just happened. Mateo’s mother. My best friend’s mother. And the only thing I thought, as I walked toward the bus stop, was how long it was going to take for the next appliance in that house to break.