My Father and My Lover Were Friends, and I Didn’t Know It

My name is Mariana, and I had just turned nineteen when all this happened. I have tan skin, dark brown hair that I almost always wore in a loose ponytail, and I’m short: I’m barely five foot three. I have soft curves, the kind that made me uncomfortable for a long time and that, over time, I learned to carry with a certain pride. I worked at a neighborhood bakery, kneading dough from dawn, tending the counter, and in the afternoons delivering orders on an old bicycle that squeaked over every bump. It wasn’t anyone’s dream, but it paid for my things and kept me grounded.

Everything changed a couple of months earlier, when I met Gustavo. He was a forty-seven-year-old man, shift supervisor at a logistics company on the outskirts of town. Tall, broad-shouldered, with short hair already going gray and big hands like someone who had always worked for a living. We crossed paths one noon when his team ordered half a dozen trays of empanadas to celebrate who-knows-what. I was the one who made the delivery, carrying the warm boxes against my chest.

When I got to the warehouse reception desk, he was there, signing the delivery note with a half smile that made me nervous for no apparent reason.

—Thanks, pretty thing —he told me, and slid me a tip bill that was almost as large as the order itself.

We chatted while I unloaded the trays. Before I left, he asked for my number.

—For the next order —he joked, but his eyes told another story.

From that day on we started texting. At first they were innocent messages, then quick dinners when I got off my afternoon shift. Little by little, Gustavo became something I had never had: someone who took me to beautiful places, who bought me clothes and little pieces of jewelry I could never have afforded on my salary. He made me feel desired, seen in a different way. Our dates always ended with long kisses and caresses that left me trembling in the car seat. He knew exactly where to put his hands, how to slide his fingers up under my skirt until he found my soaked cunt, how to make me come while I pressed my mouth against his shoulder so no one in the street would hear me.

One Friday night he called me, his voice full of excitement.

—Mariana, there’s a get-together at a friend’s house. People from my world, a barbecue, music. Want to come with me? I want to introduce you.

I got my hopes up like an idiot. I had never been to an adult party like that, with his usual crowd.

—Of course —I answered right away.

I put on a dress he had given me: red, tight over the hips, with a neckline that showed just enough. I lined my eyes carefully and let my hair down so it would fall in waves. I wanted to measure up. Under the dress I wore a black lace thong, also a gift from him, and no bra: I knew Gustavo liked to feel my nipples outlined beneath the fabric.

***

Gustavo picked me up in his dark sedan. As soon as I got in, he kissed me like he’d gone days without seeing me, one hand resting on my thigh, slowly sliding up until he brushed my groin over the dress.

—You look incredible —he murmured—. You’re going to drive me crazy tonight.

We drove through the lit-up avenues, but a few streets from the house he turned into a dim little side street next to a closed park. He switched off the engine.

—I can’t wait to get there —he said, his voice rough—. I need you to suck me right now.

My heart jumped. I leaned over him and fumbled with his belt, then the button and zipper. He lifted himself a little off the seat so I could pull his pants and boxer briefs down to his thighs, and his cock sprang out, hard, thick, the tip already shining with a drop of pre-cum. I took it in my hand and felt it throb against my palm, hot, heavy. I pumped him slowly, squeezing at the base, watching the skin tighten and the tip darken.

—Do it, please —he begged, and I didn’t need him to say it again.

I lowered my head and stuck out my tongue to lick the tip first, gathering that salty drop. I pressed a wet kiss to the head and then took him all the way into my mouth, slowly, feeling him fill me until he brushed my throat. I started to work up and down, my lips tight around his cock, helping with my hand on the parts that didn’t fit. Every time I got to the bottom I breathed through my nose and held there for a few seconds with all of his cock inside me, until my eyes watered.

—Just like that, exactly like that —he gasped, his voice breaking—. How you suck, fuck, how you suck my cock.

His hand tangled in my hair and set the rhythm without forcing me. I stuck out my tongue and licked him underneath, from his balls to the tip, with long, shameless strokes, leaving his whole cock glossy with saliva. I took his balls in my palm and squeezed them carefully while I kept sucking the tip with my lips closed, making that little suction noise that always drove him crazy.

—Take it again, all of it, you slut, like that, like that —he moaned, pushing his hips upward.

I felt him pulse against my tongue, swelling even more, and I sped up. I drooled on purpose, let it drip down my chin, and pumped with my hand at the same time I bobbed with my mouth. My legs were clamped tight under the dress, my thong a total mess, my swollen clit throbbing every time he moaned. I slipped my free hand between my legs and touched myself over the soaked fabric, rubbing while I sucked him off.

Before he lost control completely, Gustavo gently lifted my head, pulling my hair, and kissed me hungrily, invading my mouth, tasting himself on my tongue. With his other hand he yanked my neckline down and bared my tits. He lowered his head and took them into his mouth one after the other, sucking my nipples until they were hard as stones, nibbling them until a moan slipped out of me and I arched my back against the seat. I grabbed his hand and guided it between my legs. He pulled my thong aside and sank two fingers into my cunt without warning, all the way in, making me gasp against his mouth.

—You’re soaking, you little whore —he whispered against my skin—. All wet from sucking my dick.

He worked his fingers hard inside me, in and out, while his thumb made circles on my clit. I rocked my hips against his hand, riding his fingers, my tits out of the dress and my lips open against his neck. I could feel myself about to come, squeezing his fingers with my cunt, when all at once he pulled them out.

—You’re perfect —he whispered, sucking his fingers in front of me, tasting me—. But he held back. He pulled himself together with a laugh and helped me fix my dress, tuck my tits back under the fabric.

—Save the rest for after the party —he said—. I’m going to fuck you all the way when we get back.

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, cheeks burning, his taste still on my lips and my cunt throbbing between my legs, and we kept going.

***

The house was big, in a quiet neighborhood, with lights strung up in the garden and music coming from the back. Gustavo took my hand and started introducing me to his friends: men his age, beer in hand, talking about work and football. I smiled a little out of place in my red dress among so many casual shirts, very aware that I wasn’t wearing a bra and that I still had a nasty mess in my panties.

—This is Mariana, my girlfriend —he said, and everyone greeted me kindly.

And then I saw him.

My father, Ramón, was standing by the grill with a beer in his hand, laughing in a little circle of people. He was wearing his usual plaid shirt. It couldn’t be. What was he doing in that house? Gustavo noticed my face freeze.

—What’s wrong, babe? —he asked.

I didn’t get to answer. My father turned his head and saw us. His eyes went wide, he set his beer down on the table, and came toward us.

—Mariana! What the hell are you doing here? —he blurted.

I felt the floor open under my feet. I didn’t know where to put myself.

—Ramón, man, you know Mariana? —Gustavo asked, bewildered, squeezing my hand.

—Of course I know her! She’s my daughter —my father roared, his face red with rage.

The whole garden seemed to turn the volume down at once. Everyone was staring.

—What does this mean, Gustavo? Are you dating my daughter? —he went on—. She’s a child!

Gustavo went pale.

—Ramón, calm down. I had no idea you were her father. We’ve been together a couple of months, it’s serious.

My father pointed at him, beside himself.

—Serious! You’re my age, man. What are you trying to do, buy her with gifts?

I just wanted to disappear. To my father I was still the girl who got up before dawn to work in the bakery to save money and, someday, study.

Gustavo raised his hands, conciliatory.

—Listen, Ramón, it’s not what you’re thinking. Mariana is of age. I respect her, and it’s her choice.

My father snorted, but two of his friends stepped in between them.

—Come on, Ramón, don’t make a scene in the middle of the party. Talk it over calmly.

They moved off to a corner of the garden, arguing in low voices. I was left alone, trembling, pretending to be interested in a plate of food I never touched. Snatches reached me: “this isn’t right,” my father said; “it’s her life,” Gustavo answered. They finally calmed down with a couple of tense back pats, but the air still felt charged. The party went on and I barely spoke, avoiding my father’s gaze all night.

***

Hours later, Gustavo told me it was time to go. In the car, the silence weighed like a slab of stone, but before driving off he turned down a side street and parked under some trees, far from the streetlights.

—I’m sorry, Mariana. I had no idea —he murmured—. I never would have imagined you were family.

—I didn’t know you were friends —I answered, crushed—. I’m dying of embarrassment.

He stroked my knee, then my thigh, and lifted my dress up to my waist.

—Come here. I promised you something before the party.

I don’t know whether it was the adrenaline of everything that had happened, the anger, the humiliation, or just the fact that I’d spent the whole night with my cunt burning under my dress, but I moved over to the driver’s seat and straddled him, grinding down on his cock, which was already hard again under his pants. He kissed me desperately, squeezing my ass with both hands under the dress, yanking my thong off in one pull until it tore. He threw it onto the car floor.

—Take it out for me —I begged in his ear, my voice breaking—. Put it in now, Gustavo, please.

He pulled his pants and boxer briefs down to his knees while I devoured his mouth. I grabbed his cock, set it between my wet lips, and sank down on him slowly, feeling him open me up completely, fill me centimeter by centimeter until my ass hit his thighs. A long moan slipped out of me, pressed against his neck.

—God, you’re so tight —he gasped, gripping my hips—. Ride me, slut, ride me all the way to the hilt.

I started moving on top of him, up and down, bracing myself with my hands on the back of the seat. I felt his whole cock going in and out, brushing all the right places inside me. Gustavo pulled my dress all the way up, bared my tits again, and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard while he fucked up into me from below, driving into me with sharp thrusts that made me bounce in his lap.

—That’s it, daddy, that’s it, give me more —I begged without thinking—. Fuck me, fuck me hard.

The car rocked with us, the windows starting to fog. I grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him while I kept riding him, rolling my hips in circles, feeling every inch of his cock rub my clit every time I sank down. He slapped my ass, dry little hits that made me clench around him involuntarily.

—Turn around —he ordered suddenly.

I stood up with my legs trembling and turned around, planting my hands on the steering wheel and my knees apart on the seat, my ass lifted toward him. He grabbed my hips and shoved into me all the way, tearing a muffled scream from me. He started fucking me like that, doggy style and seated, holding my waist tightly, thrusting from behind while I watched our blurred reflections in the windshield.

—Look at yourself, Mariana, look at how you’re riding me after the mess you made —he whispered in my ear, leaning forward against my back—. Such a proper little lady with your father right there, and now with my cock down your cunt to the throat.

—Shut up and keep going, don’t stop —I panted, gripping the steering wheel.

He brought one hand around the front, found my clit with two fingers, and started rubbing it in quick circles while he kept pounding me. With his other hand he squeezed one tit, pinched my nipple. I pushed my ass back to meet his hips, skin slapping against skin, hearing the wet sound of his cock going in and out of my soaked cunt.

—I’m coming, I’m coming, Gustavo —I moaned, my legs already weak—. Oh fuck, I’m coming.

—Come, my love, come on my cock —he growled, fucking me faster.

The orgasm burst through me all at once, in waves, my cunt clamping around his dick in spasms that made me shake from head to toe. I bit my lip so I wouldn’t scream too loudly and let myself fall forward, forehead against the steering wheel, while he kept driving into me mercilessly.

—I’m close, I’m close —he gasped a few seconds later—. Where do you want me to finish?

—Inside, come inside —I told him without thinking, still trembling.

He grabbed my hips with both hands and buried himself to the hilt, pressing me against him, and I felt his cock swell and throb inside me, shooting hot spurts of cum that filled me completely. He stayed there, inside me, panting against my nape while I felt him spilling between my legs.

We stayed like that for a while, locked together, breathing, saying nothing. Then I carefully stood up and felt his load sliding down the insides of my thighs onto the seat. I wiped myself as best I could with the torn thong and straightened my dress. Gustavo kissed my forehead.

—Keep this to yourself —he murmured, still hoarse—. No matter what happens.

We got to my house, a small apartment near the center. The living room light was on: my father was already back and waiting for me with his arms crossed. Gustavo dropped me at the door.

—Bye, babe. Call me tomorrow —he said, but I barely managed a “good night,” my legs still weak and his cum still hot between my thighs.

I went in and my father exploded.

—Mariana, sit down right now! What is this relationship with Gustavo? He’s been my friend forever and you’re messing around with him!

I sat on the sofa, hands in my lap, squeezing my legs together.

—Dad, please, it’s not that big a deal. We’re just seeing each other.

—Just seeing each other? I saw you in his car before you went into the party! What were you doing parked there?

I lowered my gaze, remembering everything that had happened in that side street and what had just happened minutes earlier on the side road.

—Nothing bad, Dad. He loves me.

He paced back and forth, unable to sit still.

—He buys you things, doesn’t he? That dress, the shoes, everything. I thought it was your bakery salary, but no. It’s his money!

Tears started rolling down my cheeks.

—Dad, I’m an adult now. I know what I’m doing.

—An adult! He’s a man who could be your father, Mariana. End it. I don’t want to see you by his side again, do you hear me?

We argued for almost half an hour. He shouted about my future, about how that man was pulling me away from my path. I cried and defended Gustavo, but in the end I gave in, exhausted.

—Okay, Dad. I won’t see him again.

***

Several weeks have passed since that night. I haven’t spoken to Gustavo again; I blocked his number on my father’s orders, and now he watches every step I take. I’ve gone back to my routine at the bakery, delivering alone on the old bicycle, without gifts and without those kisses that made me forget how tired I was.

Sometimes, when I close my eyes in the early morning before the alarm goes off, I still feel the heat of that dark car, Gustavo’s cock opening me up from the inside, and his voice telling me I was perfect. I slip my hand between my legs under the sheets and touch myself thinking of him, coming alone and biting the pillow so my father won’t hear me from the other room. It hurts my heart, I’m not going to lie. Did I let something slip away, or did I save myself from something? No one can answer me that.

For now, this is all I have: an affair that started at a counter, ended at the most awkward party of my life, and left me with a lesson I still don’t know for sure whether I want to learn.