What Happened on the Coast with Adrián's Mother

Several weeks had gone by since that first encounter with Carolina, and I’d started to believe it wouldn’t happen again. I’d filed it away somewhere in memory as one of those lucky breaks life doesn’t hand out twice. My best friend’s mother had let me fuck her on a silly May afternoon, and that, in my twenty-two-year-old head, was already everything I could ever hope to have.

Until the phone rang on a Tuesday night.

—Are you free the last weekend of the month? —she asked me without beating around the bush, as if months hadn’t passed since the last time I heard her voice outside Adrián’s living room.

She explained that her husband had inherited an apartment on the coast, about three hours away by car. They needed to replace the appliances before summer season: a new fridge, an oven, a microwave, everything that had gone obsolete. The trip meant staying overnight, so she preferred to sort it out on Saturday and Sunday.

—My husband will come with us —she added, in a neutral tone that gave me nothing to read underneath.

I said yes. What else could I say? The idea of having her close for two whole days had me on edge, even if her husband buried any real possibility. I accepted thinking it would be decent work and nothing more. She was going to pay me well for the favor, and besides, my exams were already over.

On Saturday morning I went downstairs with a bag over my shoulder and my heart somewhere that wasn’t its usual place. When I saw the car stop and opened the passenger door, I was surprised to find her alone at the wheel.

—In the end he preferred to accept an invitation from some friends to a meal at a country house —she told me without looking at me, adjusting the rearview mirror with deliberate calm—. His loss. We’ll be better off alone.

And she gave me that sideways smile I’d kept in memory since the last time.

The drive flew by. We talked about stupid things, about Adrián’s job, about my university, about some family memory. Carolina drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gearshift. Every so often her fingers brushed my thigh when she changed gears, and I tried to look out the window so I wouldn’t give myself away. At a long red light, I saw her lower her eyes to the bulge showing in my pants. She smiled without saying a word and left her hand spread on my leg until the light changed.

The apartment wasn’t big: a master bedroom, a modest living room with an open kitchen, and a narrow bathroom. What it had was the view. From the terrace you could see the whole beach, the seafront promenade, and the line of water disappearing into the horizon.

—You install the appliances in the kitchen —she said, dropping the keys on the counter—. I’m going to put the rest in order.

I spent the afternoon fitting the new fridge into its space, connecting the oven, programming the microwave. Every so often I heard her moving around the other rooms, opening drawers, shaking out sheets. At quarter to eight I finished. I wiped my hands on a rag and called her from the living room.

—Well, you’ve done a good job —she said, appearing in the kitchen in a light dress she hadn’t been wearing half an hour before—. How about we shower and I take you out to dinner? Start tidying up while I shower first.

I wanted to say something clever and ended up standing there with my mouth open like an idiot.

After we showered in turn —she without asking me to wait, me not daring to take longer than necessary— we headed to a beachfront restaurant. She wore a white shirt open to the second button and a short linen skirt. I was in jeans and a shirt my mother had ironed for me on Thursday. If anyone had looked at us from the street, we could have passed for mother and son on holiday. Almost.

We were finishing dessert when her mobile rang. I saw her husband’s name on the screen. Carolina made a face I already knew and answered without getting up from the chair. Her replies were short, dry, almost monosyllabic. When she hung up, she set the phone upside down on the table.

—The truth is, he drives me crazy —she said, stirring her coffee—. Lately all he thinks about is going out with his friends, he drinks too much, and we barely go out together. He hasn’t even asked whether I got here safely. And in bed, don’t get me started. He hasn’t touched me in weeks.

We paid and went down to the promenade. The night was mild. A couple was kissing against the seawall and another, farther on, was walking hugged together with their hands tucked into the other’s pants. Carolina looked at them without hiding it. When she turned back to me, her eyes were shining in a different way.

—Shall we go back to the apartment? —she asked.

The question didn’t need an answer. We walked the two hundred meters to the building in silence, her holding onto my arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In the elevator, when the doors closed, she turned toward me, put a hand on my neck, and kissed me with an urgency that left me breathless. Her tongue went straight into my mouth, without preamble, seeking mine and twining around it. I bit her lower lip and she moaned very softly, a guttural sound that made my cock throb inside my jeans.

She brought her other hand down to my crotch. She closed her fingers over the bulge and squeezed hard, measuring me through the fabric. What she found there must have pleased her, because she moaned against my ear.

—Fuck, you’re hard. It’s going to tear your pants.

She pulled down my zipper inside the elevator and reached in. Her cold fingers closed directly over my bare cock and drew it halfway out through the fly. She looked down, bit her lip, and squeezed it slowly, up and down, two times, three. A drop of saliva glistened at the corner of her mouth. I couldn’t believe Adrián’s mother was jerking me off in an elevator that could stop on any floor.

The elevator chimed. We separated reluctantly, stepped out onto an empty landing, and walked to the door without touching, me trying to tuck it back into my pants as best I could. Inside was another story. As soon as she locked the door, she shoved me against the wall and started unbuttoning my shirt with a rush that didn’t seem like her. She kissed my shoulders, nibbled my neck, left my clothes on the floor as we backed toward the bedroom.

When I was down to my boxers, her gaze dropped to the bulge the fabric couldn’t hide.

—Jesus, how hard you are —she murmured, bringing a hand to her mouth—. Is it bigger than last time or am I imagining it?

I took off her shirt, pulled down her bra straps, and removed the garment. Her tits were exactly as I remembered them, heavy, white, with the nipples already hard and pointing up, and months of waiting made them even more urgent. I took them in both hands, squeezed carefully, and lowered my mouth to her nipples. I sucked the right one whole, pulling on it between my lips, while my fingers pinched the left. I heard her moan from deep inside, a long, animal sound. It was one of her weak spots; I’d learned that in May and hadn’t forgotten. I circled her with my tongue, bit very slowly, and felt her back arch, seeking more.

—Keep your mouth there, asshole. Don’t stop.

She pushed me back onto the bed and yanked down my boxers. My cock sprang free, hard, pointing at her face. When she saw what they were hiding, she let out a nervous laugh.

—It’s bigger, I swear. I’m not making it up.

Her hand ran all the way down the length of it and, at the end of the stroke, reached my balls. She weighed them in her palm like someone testing ripe fruit. She frowned.

—You’re bursting. How long has it been since you came?

—Almost a week —I answered.

—Don’t tell me you’ve been saving up for me?

—Since I knew we were coming.

She went quiet. She squeezed me again and slowly shook her head. And then, without taking her eyes off me, she lowered her face. She stuck out her tongue and ran it underneath, from my balls to the tip, in a slow lick that made me grit my teeth. She repeated it a second time, even slower, and on the third she opened her mouth and took me all the way in as far as she could. I felt the back of her throat, felt her swallow and come back up, and down again, one hand closed at the base and the other massaging my balls as if she wanted to see how much was inside.

—Fuck, Carolina… like that…

She sucked me with real hunger, without restraint, pulling hard, taking me out to lick me all over the sides and then stuffing me back in. Every time she got to the base she made a wet sound with her mouth that had me right on the edge. I grabbed her hair, not to force her, just to have something to hold on to, and she understood it as an invitation to pick up the pace. She yanked my cock out with a string of saliva hanging from her lip and looked up at me from below.

—You’re crazy. Did you really think I was going to let you come inside me? I told you last time. I’m an older woman, I don’t take care of myself like some kid.

But her hand never stopped. It moved up and down at a slow, deliberate rhythm while she talked. The more she said no, the firmer I felt her close around me. She took me back into her mouth, sucking only the tip, working her tongue against the frenulum while her hand did the rest. I had to clench my thighs not to blow right there.

I gently pulled her away before it was too late. I drew her to me and turned her over on the bed. I pulled away her skirt, then her underwear, a pair of black panties already soaked through in the center. She lay there naked, legs half open, with a dark triangle between her thighs reflecting the light from the lamp. I ran my palm very slowly over her pubis and felt that she was hot even on the outside. I lowered my fingers, parted her lips with two fingers, and sank one in to the knuckle. She was dripping.

—Ma’am, you’re looking very good. You have no idea how much I wanted to see you like this again.

—Do I really turn you on that much? I know you have a girlfriend. I’m already my age.

—It’s not even comparable. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone.

The line made her eyes shine. She looked at me with a new expression, something halfway between tenderness and hunger.

—I can see you really like me —she said—. You’re even harder than before. What do you want, to fuck your best friend’s mother again?

—Tonight I’m going to make you enjoy yourself like no one else ever has.

She bit her lower lip. And then she confessed something I hadn’t expected.

—When I found out my husband wasn’t coming, I thought about canceling the trip. I’ve been hot since yesterday, you have no idea. I knew you were going to try to fuck me and the thing is, I’m on my period. With my husband we use a condom at times like this, you know that. And you, with how much of a beast you are when you come, are dangerous.

She stopped. Took a breath.

—I went into a pharmacy this morning to buy condoms. I backed out. There was another woman behind me, and asking for them in your size was horribly embarrassing. I left without anything.

I didn’t answer. I lowered my mouth to her neck, to her sternum, sucking each nipple again as I went, and kept going down her navel. Knowing there was no rubber should have stopped me. In reality, it pushed me lower. I spread her legs with my hands, kissed the inside of her thigh, and rose very slowly to where I wanted to go. I licked her groin, nibbled the fold, let my breath brush her open cunt without touching it yet.

—Nico, what are you doing? Oh, no… not there… it must smell bad.

I ignored her. I stuck out my tongue and ran it the whole way through the slit, from bottom to top, with the same calm as painting a wall. Her complaint turned into a different moan. The smell and taste were those of a woman who had spent twenty-four hours thinking about this: strong, salty, a female in heat. I focused on the clit, pulled it from its hood with the tip of my tongue, and took it between my lips, sucking it like a small nipple. Then I went lower, shoved my whole tongue inside her cunt, fucking her with it, feeling her walls tighten. I slid two fingers underneath and sank them in slowly while I kept sucking her clit above. Her hips began moving on their own against my face.

—Nico… you bastard… what are you doing to me… oh, keep going, keep going… there, there, don’t stop, son of a bitch, don’t stop…

My fingers went in and out making a wet, obscene sound that filled the room. I pressed her clit between my lips and ran my tongue very fast just over it. A few minutes later I felt her convulse. She grabbed my head with both hands and pressed me against her without measuring her strength. It was hard to breathe. A hot gush filled my mouth, my chin, while she trembled and shouted one curse after another into the pillow. When she finally loosened, she looked down at me with shining eyes and a wrecked face.

—I’d never felt anything like that. I always thought this was filthy.

—Did you like it?

—I came like a crazy woman —she laughed, still breathless—. I think some of it went in your mouth, sorry.

I wiped my chin with the back of my hand without taking my eyes off her. I didn’t wait any longer. I climbed on top, positioned myself between her legs, and brought the tip to her entrance. I ran my cock through the whole slit, wetting it in her fluids, up and down, gently bumping the clit with the tip. She looked at me, frightened.

—Nico, without a condom… in my condition it’s dangerous. I could get pregnant.

—Tonight it isn’t getting away —I answered, squeezing her at the waist—. It wants it as badly as I do. I can feel it.

—Oh, boy… I told you… I’m ovulating… you’re going to ruin me…

With a thrust of my hips I drove in halfway. Her cunt was burning, much tighter and hotter than I remembered, and it sucked my cock in as if it were hungry. Her words broke off halfway.

—Oh, Nico… not like that… you’re splitting me… you’re too big…

—It’s all yours. Take all of it.

I shoved the second half in with a sharp thrust, without slowing, and tore a muffled cry from her that got stuck in her throat. Her protests weren’t entirely true. She had both hands on my waist and was pushing herself toward me, helping me get all the way in, her nails digging into my skin. I started moving, slowly at first, pulling almost all the way out and then driving back in at once, then harder, with a rhythm that grew more animal with every stroke. The sound of my groin slamming against hers filled the small room. Her moans bounced off the wall and mingled with the distant murmur of the sea.

—Fuck me, son of a bitch… like that, like that, harder… break it…

I grabbed her under the knees, lifted her legs, and hooked them over my shoulders, folding her in half. From that angle I went deeper, all the way to the bottom, and she felt it: her eyes rolled back every time I hit her cervix. I fucked her like that, staring at her wrecked face, watching her tits bounce with every thrust, watching her mouth hang open unable to close.

—You’re splitting me… oh God… you’re splitting me…

It didn’t take long for her to come again. She clamped her legs against my hips and clung to me as if I were the last thing left in the world. I felt her cunt closing in spasms around my cock, squeezing me, pulling me deeper inside. I kept fucking her without pause. I flipped her over in one motion, put her face down, lifted her ass by the hips, and shoved into her from behind with a single thrust. She buried her face in the pillow and screamed into the fabric. I spread her ass cheeks with my thumbs so I could see myself go in and out, shining with her juices, and I started fucking her like a man who’s spent a week stockpiling everything left over. I slapped her ass. Then again. Her skin turned red.

—Do you like it, ma’am? Do you like being fucked like this?

—Yes… yes… more… don’t stop, bastard… fuck me, fuck me…

I grabbed her hair, tugging gently, and lifted her head so she could hear me well. Every thrust wrung a growl from her. The mattress was making noise, the bed was making noise, and she kept repeating my name between insults.

She sensed it before I did. She sensed it when there was no turning back.

—Nico… you have to pull out… outside… no, you can’t inside… bastard, you’re going to do it, you’re going to do it…!

I heard her, but I couldn’t listen. I flipped her back onto her back because I wanted to see her face while I did it. I spread her thighs as far as they’d go, drove my cock to the root, and accelerated the pace, buried my face in her neck, bit the skin of her shoulder. I felt my balls tighten, rise, and the hot warning climbing up from the base. I drove in one last time, all the way, and stayed there, buried.

The first spurt came with a force I’d never felt before, a long, thick jet that painted the inside of her walls. Then came another, and another, and another. I kept thrusting all the way in, emptying myself inside her, feeling each spasm fill her cunt with hot semen. She felt it, fuck if she felt it, because she opened her eyes wide and dug her nails into my back.

—You’re going to knock me up… I can feel you… you’re filling me… oh… again… don’t stop… there’s more… give me more…

And there was more. I emptied the last burst against her cervix while she came again, tightening around me from the inside like a closed fist. I stayed inside her for a while, still hard, with my forehead resting against hers. Her breathing was uneven, her cheeks burning. She looked at me with a mix of anger and something I wouldn’t know how to name. Anger because I’d done it against her will. Something else because she’d liked it.

—You came inside me —she murmured—. You came so much this isn’t going to amount to nothing. You’re crazy. You’re completely crazy.

I didn’t answer. I didn’t know what to answer. When I finally pulled out of her, my cock slid free with a wet sound and behind it came a thick white stream that ran down her thigh to the sheet. She closed her eyes for a moment and lowered her fingers to touch herself, unbelieving. She brought them up to her eyes and looked at them covered.

—Fuck, you filled me. No one had ever left me like this.

She let herself fall back onto the bed. She didn’t speak again for a long while. I thought she was truly angry, that she was going to kick me out of the room, that the trip would end with an awkward silent drive back and a promise never to see each other again. But after a few minutes she turned over, slipped an arm across my chest, and rested her cheek on my shoulder. Just like that. As if nothing. As if the problem I’d just created for her could wait until Monday.

We stayed like that, wrapped around each other, with no sheet because it was hot, listening to the sea through the open window. In the morning there would be plenty of things to decide. Tonight, not.

***

That was only the first night. The whole Sunday still lay ahead, and I didn’t yet know that Carolina was going to wake me before dawn with something very specific in mind. But that part is for another time.