What My Son’s Ex-Girlfriend Confessed to Me

My name is Andrés and I’ve just turned fifty-one. I’ve been married to Carmen for twenty-six years; she’s two years younger than me, and we have two children: Lucas, twenty-four, and Lucía, who’s finishing her first year at university. Classic family, mortgage being paid off, August holidays, long Sunday lunches after dinner. Same old story.

Our marriage works. Carmen is a good woman and I love her, but after so many years you learn that routine is a thick blanket: it keeps you warm, yes, but it also weighs you down. Sometimes, in the car, on my way home from work, I’d catch myself looking at a stranger at a traffic light and thinking things I shouldn’t be thinking. I imagine Carmen does the same. It’s human. What would be strange would be to deny it.

What I’m going to tell you I’ve had inside me for months, and I need to get it out, even if only anonymously. It has to do with Daniela, the girl who dated my son for almost two years.

Lucas brought her home for the first time on a Sunday in March. Twenty-two years old, dark hair, that open laugh that spreads. She won us all over instantly. Carmen treated her like the daughter she’d always wanted close by, Lucía used her as an older sister to ask for fashion advice, and I… I limited myself to greeting her with two kisses and avoiding looking at her too much.

She started coming every weekend. She slept over in Lucas’s room, traveled with us to the house in the mountains, ate with my parents on Christmas Eve. Our trust grew to the point where she moved around the house as if she lived there: in short pajamas, barefoot, tousled in the mornings. Sometimes she’d show up in the kitchen wearing one of my son’s old T-shirts that barely covered her thighs and start making coffee as if nothing. No bra, her nipples showing through the thin cotton, and when she bent down to get the sugar from the lower drawer the shirt rode up and you could see the curve of her bare ass.

I looked away. I swear it. She was Lucas’s girlfriend and that was sacred to me. But hormones are hormones, and at night, when I heard them through the wall — because they fucked almost every time she stayed over and didn’t hold back at all — I had trouble sleeping. You could hear everything: the creak of the bed frame, the headboard hitting the wall, Dani’s moans getting higher and higher, and sometimes stray words slipping through the gap under the door: “harder,” “like that,” “don’t stop.” I’d lie there rigid on my back with an erection I didn’t know what to do with, clenching my teeth so I wouldn’t imagine what was happening on the other side of the wall. Carmen heard them too. We joked about it, with the kind of complicity married couples build over decades.

“Youth,” she’d say, turning her back to me.

“Youth,” I’d repeat, staring at the ceiling.

Daniela was flirtatious by nature. She flirted with Lucas, with Lucía, with the doorman in the building, and now I know she flirted with me too. It was all very small things: a hand resting on my arm when she was telling a story, a look held half a second too long, a double-edged joke tossed into the air to see who would catch it. I took it as part of her character, and of that way some young girls are, as if they seduce you just by breathing.

One Tuesday in September, Lucas came home looking down.

“I broke up with Dani,” he said, without any further explanation.

Carmen nearly burst into tears. Lucía couldn’t believe it. I patted my son on the back and told him what you say in these cases: that he was young, that there would be others, that these things happen. Inside, I felt a strange sting, as if something had been ripped out of me that I didn’t even know I had.

***

Ten days passed. I was in my office finishing a report when my phone vibrated. A saved number, but one I hadn’t used in months.

“Andrés? It’s Dani.”

My breath caught for a second. I covered it as best I could.

“Well now, Daniela, what a surprise. How are you, kid?”

“So-so. I needed to talk to someone who wasn’t part of my circle. Do you feel like having coffee some day?”

I took three seconds to answer. My mind was racing. She was my son’s ex, the sensible thing was to pass the ball to Carmen, tell her to meet up with her, not get involved. But I was genuinely fond of her. And I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t something else too, a small, dirty curiosity hidden away in some corner.

“Sure. Tomorrow at noon work for you? There’s a nice place next to the office.”

“I’ll be there at two.”

I didn’t sleep well that night. I told myself a thousand times it was just coffee between two people who care about each other, that I’d listen to her troubles, give her some fatherly advice, and go home with a clear conscience. I half believed it.

She arrived on time. She was wearing a navy-blue strappy dress, tight, short, the kind she would never have worn in front of Lucas with me there. She had done her eyes. She smelled like something citrusy and expensive.

“You look gorgeous,” I said without thinking, and regretted it immediately.

“Had to make use of the broken heart for something,” she replied, laughing.

We went into the restaurant and asked for a table at the back. We talked about nonsense at first: her new job, a series she’d watched, the trip she was thinking of taking in spring. Not a word about Lucas. The conversation flowed with a ease that threw me off, as if we’d known each other forever and saw each other every week.

We ordered wine. She drank the first glass slowly. The second faster. By the third she looked at me over the rim of her glass and said the sentence that split me in two.

“Andrés, you’re a very attractive man. Did you know that?”

I let out a nervous laugh.

“Come on. I’m an old guy with a belly and a receding hairline.”

“I like them like that. Men my age are unbearable. They talk about football and PlayStation and then in bed they don’t know how to do anything. They don’t know how to lick pussy even with a map. They come in three minutes and roll over to sleep.”

I swallowed. I decided to pull on the thread and see what happened.

“But with Lucas you were fine, right?”

“I was fine. But it wasn’t really what I like. I like men with experience. Mature men.” She paused, smiled a little crookedly. “And from the very first day I walked into your house I thought that about you.”

“Thought what about me?”

“That I liked you. The T-shirts I used to walk around the kitchen in on Saturdays weren’t just for comfort, Andrés. And the nights I fucked your son, I often thought about you on the other side of the wall, hearing me. I came harder imagining that you had a hard-on listening to me moan.”

I was speechless. I took a long drink of wine. A hundred scenes flashed through my head in fast motion: Daniela on the counter, Daniela coming out of the bathroom, Daniela lying in the mountain hammock. Everything took on a new, perverse meaning.

“You’ll understand that with Lucas around I couldn’t even look at you.”

“Of course. That’s why I broke up with him.”

“What do you mean?”

“That part of the reason I ended it with him was you. I’m not going to ask you to leave Carmen or anything like that. I’m not crazy. I just want to sleep with you, Andrés. Once. If afterward you don’t want to repeat it, I’ll understand. But I need to do it. I’ve been thinking about it for months. Months touching myself thinking about you, your cock, how you’d fuck me if you could.”

My heart was pounding. The sensible part of my brain was yelling at me to pay the bill and get out of there. The other part, the one that had been quiet for years, was winning by a landslide. Under my trousers I was already rock hard, pressing against the fabric.

“Daniela…”

“Don’t call me Daniela, call me Dani like always.”

“Dani. You’re hot as hell, everyone knows that. But I’m your ex’s father. This is a textbook example of how not to do things.”

“I know. That’s why it turns me on. It turns me on so much to think I’m going to suck the cock of the father of the guy whose cock I’ve sucked for two years. And it turns me on more to think that you want it too.”

She looked down at my crotch without even trying to hide it. Under the table, she spread her legs and lifted the hem of her dress a little.

“I’m not wearing underwear, Andrés. Look. I’ve been soaking wet since I got in the taxi.”

I looked. How could I not look. A shaved pussy, the lips shining with dampness, parted open. She ran two fingers over it with complete calm and showed them to me, wet, before lowering her hand back under the table.

“You little minx,” I muttered hoarsely. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“That’s the idea.”

I paid the bill without waiting for dessert. I knew a place ten minutes away by car, discreet rooms, automatic check-in, no bellhop memorizing your face. While I drove, her hand settled over the bulge in my trousers and started squeezing softly. Then she unzipped me with one hand, without looking, slipped her fingers through the opening of my briefs and pulled my cock out into the air. She started jerking me off slowly, the palm slick with saliva she’d just spat into it.

“Fuck, what a huge cock you’ve got, Andrés. Good thing you parked, because I was about to bend down and suck it right here.”

I didn’t say anything. We parked in the motel’s underground garage. Before I got out, she shoved it back in for me as best she could, laughing. The radio was playing very quietly and we could hear every one of our breaths.

***

I shut the room door with my foot. Before I could say anything, Dani pulled the dress over her head in one motion and stood naked in the middle of the room. The warm light from the lamp drew every curve of her body. She wasn’t a girl: she was a young woman who knew exactly what she had and how to use it. Firm, round breasts, with brown hard nipples. Narrow waist, wide hips, shaved pussy shining between her thighs.

I kissed her as if I’d been wanting to kiss her for twenty years. Maybe I had. Her lips were softer than I’d imagined and her tongue stayed one step ahead of mine, setting the pace. She pushed me against the wall and unbuttoned my shirt one button at a time, unhurriedly, biting my neck between each one. She pulled my trousers down to my ankles and then my briefs. My cock sprang hard against her belly.

“I’ve been imagining this for too long,” she said against my ear.

She knelt right there, against the wall. No ceremony. She took my cock in both hands, looked at it for a second as if measuring it, and took the whole thing into her mouth. I felt it hit the back of her throat. She started sucking slowly, her tongue dancing around the head, lips tight around the shaft, swallowing saliva without taking it out. She looked up at me from below with black eyes and wet lashes, enjoying my face.

“Fuck, Dani, like that…” I murmured, resting my hand on the back of her neck.

She pulled my cock out, spat on it, jerked it with both hands, and took it back in. She sped up. Her head started moving fast, cheeks hollowed, saliva running down her chin. Every so often she pulled it all the way out to lick my balls one by one, sucking them with her mouth open while still working me with her hand.

“If you keep going like this I’m going to come in your mouth, girl.”

“Not yet,” she said, pulling it out with a wet smack. “Not yet. Fuck me first.”

I lifted her off the floor. I picked her up, she wrapped her legs around my waist, and I carried her to the bed. I laid her down slowly. I wanted to take my time. I wanted this, whatever it was, to feel nothing like the rushed sex of recent years. I ran my lips over her neck, her collarbone, the center of her chest. I sucked one nipple and then the other, biting them carefully, tugging them with my teeth until she arched her back asking for more. I went down without skipping a centimeter. I kissed her navel, her hips, the inside of her thighs, so close to her pussy I could feel the heat but not quite touch it, teasing her.

“Don’t make me beg,” she panted. “Eat me already.”

When I reached her sex, she was already arching her back. I opened her lips with two fingers and ran my tongue all the way from bottom to top, very slowly, tasting her. She was soaked, with a clean, salty taste. I heard her moan softly, a sound held back at first that loosened as my tongue moved. I sucked her clit with my lips, pressed it, let it go, drew circles with the tip of my tongue, then flattened my mouth over her and shook my head. I slid in one finger and then two, curling them inward, searching for that spot I knew was there. I felt her close around them, the inner walls squeezing tighter and tighter.

“Oh God, oh God, Andrés, don’t stop, don’t stop, there…”

She came for the first time in less than five minutes. One hand clutching the sheet, the other buried in my hair, pulling me toward her. Her legs closed around my head, her hips lifted off the bed, and she let out a long cry she didn’t even try to hide. I kept licking, gentler now, stretching out her orgasm until she pushed me away herself because she couldn’t take any more.

“Fuck, Andrés,” she said when she caught her breath. “Fuck. Guys my age don’t know how to do that. Not a chance.”

“Stay there. Don’t move.”

I climbed up. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. I positioned myself between her legs and rubbed the tip against her, sliding the head over her wet lips, not going in. I wanted to hear her ask for it.

“Put it in already. Please. I can’t take it anymore. Stick it in all the way, Andrés, don’t torture me.”

“Tell me how you want it.”

“All of it. All the way in. Rip my cunt apart, please.”

I went in slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, looking her in the eyes, watching her mouth open as I slid in further and further. She was so tight, so hot, so wet, I had to clench my teeth not to come on the first thrust. When I was all the way inside I stayed still for a moment, taking in that this was really happening, that my son’s ex had my cock buried in her cunt to the balls and was looking at me like she was in heaven. Then I started moving. Slowly at first, setting a measured rhythm, pulling almost all the way out and thrusting back in, watching her face change with each push.

“Don’t come yet,” I asked her.

“I make no promises. You fuck me so damn good.”

I sped up. The bed started creaking, her nails dug into my back. I kissed her breasts, bit her neck carefully, went back to her mouth. I grabbed her legs behind the knees and spread them wider, folding them against her chest, and fucked deeper, harder. The slap of my balls against her ass could be heard all over the room, mixed with the wet sound of her soaked pussy.

“Like that, daddy, like that, give it to me hard, don’t stop…”

Her calling me “daddy,” me being the father of her ex, nearly made me explode on the spot. I pulled out suddenly, breathing through my nose to hold it back.

“Turn over,” I told her.

She got on all fours without protesting, arching her back, sticking her ass out. I gave her right cheek a soft slap, leaving the red print of my hand, and she laughed and swayed her hips asking for more. I grabbed her hair with one hand, winding it around my fist, and with the other guided my cock back inside. I drove it in all at once. She let out a guttural moan, long, her face against the pillow.

“Oh God, like that, harder, harder, fuck me…”

I started pumping at a steady pace, pulling her hair, watching her ass ripple in waves with each thrust. I ran a finger over her asshole, damp with her own slick, and she shoved her hips back.

“Put it there too, even if it’s just a finger,” she panted.

I pushed my thumb in slowly, all the way, while I kept fucking her pussy with my cock. She started trembling all over. Thighs, arms, back. She came a second time, screaming into the pillow, clenching around my cock in spasms that nearly made me come right then and there.

We kept at it for a long while, changing pace, stopping when one of us was close, starting again. I put her on her side, one leg raised, and fucked her slowly, biting her shoulder. Then she climbed on top, sat down on my cock and started moving on her own, first back and forth, then up and down, with her hands on my chest and her tits bouncing in my face. She licked her fingers and took them to her clit, touching herself while riding me, looking me in the eyes without a trace of shame.

“Look at me properly, Andrés. Look at how I fuck my father-in-law’s cock. Look what you do to me.”

“Shut up and move, slut.”

“Say it again.”

“Slut. Dirty slut.”

She came a third time on top of me, letting her weight drop against me, trembling, her cunt throbbing around my cock. I held on as best I could. I grabbed her hips, laid her under me again, spread her legs and went back in. Now yes. No brakes. I drove into her again and again, faster and faster, the headboard banging against the wall, her screaming beneath me.

We both came at the same time, almost by accident. I was trying to pull out and she grabbed me with her legs and forced me to stay.

“Inside, I want you to come inside, don’t pull out, give me everything…”

It was one of those orgasms you feel in your heels. I shot into her in long spasms, feeling the cum come out in jets while she squeezed her inner walls to milk me for the last drop. I collapsed on top of her, out of strength, hearing her laugh softly by my ear. When I finally pulled my cock out, a thread of semen mixed with her juices ran down her thigh to the sheet. She ran two fingers through her pussy, lifted them, put them in her mouth, and sucked them while looking at me.

“I didn’t imagine it would be like this,” she whispered.

“Me neither,” I answered.

We stayed there a while in silence, holding each other. Then she sat up, kissed my forehead, and went into the shower. I stayed staring at the ceiling, like so many nights in my own bed, but this time for a completely different reason.

***

That was eight months ago. It wasn’t the only time. We’ve seen each other five or six more times, always in the same room, always at midday, always with the silent promise that this won’t go beyond there. Every time we loosen up more: the last time she sucked me off on her knees as soon as she walked in, without even taking off her heels, and finished by swallowing the whole load with a smile. I have no plans to leave Carmen, and Dani has no plans to ask me to. I know that one day she’ll get tired, meet someone, and stop calling me. I’ll accept it without reproach.

We never talk about Lucas. It’s the only rule. When I ask about her love life, she changes the subject. Better that way.

Sometimes, when I come home after seeing her and Carmen welcomes me with dinner already on the table, I feel a dull guilt that lasts a couple of hours. Then it passes. Life is long and, as Dani told me on the first day, sometimes it throws you surprises you weren’t looking for. I didn’t look for this one. It came on its own, knocked on my door, and asked if I wanted coffee. All I did was say yes.