The Summer My Aunt Stopped Being Just My Aunt

I met her when I was twelve and she was about to turn twenty-two. Eduardo, my mother’s younger brother, brought her home one Sunday afternoon, still nervous, introducing her as his girlfriend. Carolina had shorter hair then, a soft voice, and a way of laughing that left me speechless for the rest of lunch.

They got married the following year and, over time, the three children came along, the anniversaries, the Christmas Eve dinners at my house and the Sunday paellas at theirs. I used to go stay with them a lot. I was the oldest nephew, the one who offered to look after the cousins when the parents went out, the one who slept on the sofa when there was a storm. Carolina treated me half like a son, half like a friend. And I watched her go through the years with that beauty that doesn’t wear out, but settles in.

When I turned thirty, our relationship changed tone. I was no longer the nephew things were explained to; I was an adult who could sit with her over coffee and talk about whatever hurt. I started telling her about my relationship problems. I asked her for advice about women, about jealousy, about silences that nothing could fill. She listened without judging me, with that patience only years can give, and sometimes she said things my own mother would never have dared to say to me.

Around that time, Eduardo and Carolina moved into a villa on the outskirts, with a pool, a grill, and an orange-tree garden that smelled like summer all year round. The house became the family gathering place on July and August weekends. We arrived loaded down with coolers, my mother with her salads, my brothers with beers, my cousins with wireless speakers.

After lunch, the men had a custom: we walked to the bar at the crossroads to have coffee and play a few games of dominoes. It was a ritual that lasted two or three hours, just enough for the women to be left alone in the garden. Carolina took advantage of those afternoons to sunbathe nude in the lawn area, together with her sisters-in-law. We all knew it, but nobody talked about it. Eduardo was jealous, and my aunt always avoided undressing when he was near.

One Saturday at the end of July I faked a headache so I wouldn’t have to go to the bar. The truth was that I’d been suffering from insomnia for weeks because of arguments at home and I didn’t feel like the noise of the place. My brothers left without protest. My mother lay down for a nap in the guest room. My female cousins went into Carolina’s room to watch a series. And I stayed behind on a float, drifting in the water with my eyes closed.

—Nephew, do you mind if I bathe naked? —I heard Carolina’s voice beside me.

I opened my eyes. She was sitting on the edge of the pool, her bikini still tied on, a towel over her shoulders. She was looking at me without smiling, waiting for an honest answer.

—Not at all, auntie —I said, trying not to let my breathing sound too fast—. When I go to the beach, if there aren’t many people, I bathe like that too.

—Good. It’s the nicest thing in the world. But I’m asking you a favor: don’t tell your uncle. You know what he’s like.

—It’ll be our secret —I told her.

—Thank you, nephew.

I had to turn my back to the other side of the float. The idea of seeing her naked had made my dick hard as a rock in a matter of seconds, and I didn’t want the tent in my swimsuit to show. I sank a little into the water, trying to regain my calm, while the cool water licked my balls and still couldn’t make my erection go down even a millimeter.

***

When she took off the bikini, I didn’t look away. Carolina was blonde, with curly hair, tall like a runway model —she always said she was six-foot-two—, with firm tits crowned by big pink nipples that hardened as soon as the air hit them, and an ass that looked sculpted by someone who took it very seriously. I saw her cunt too, almost completely shaved, with a thin blond strip above the pubis and tucked-in lips that made me swallow. She got into the water backwards, without posing, without coquettishness, and that made everything even more disturbing.

She swam two lengths in silence. I watched her float, and inside I kept repeating to myself that it was only an image. That all men, at some point, have thoughts like that about someone close. That thinking is not acting. But my dick throbbed under my swimsuit with every stroke she made, and I imagined putting it in right there, in the water, pressing her against the edge while I fucked her from behind.

—What are you thinking about? —she asked as she passed by the float.

—Nothing —I lied.

—You seem far away.

—I’m here, auntie.

She smiled without looking at me and kept swimming.

That summer ended like so many others: with the tan fading, with routine returning, with the family dissolving back into their separate lives. But something in me had been left unfinished. Every time I saw her at a dinner, a birthday, a wedding, my head went back to the orange garden and Carolina’s body cutting through the water without a sound. And that same night, when I got back to my flat, I had to jerk off thinking about her, with the exact image of her wet tits and her ass coming out of the water, until I came over my own stomach.

***

A few months later I started going out with Lucía, a girl from work. At first everything went well. After a year and a half, things went bad. Arguments over stupid things, long silences, a sense that each of us was living in a different room of the same house. And what finally sank us, a mismatch in bed that neither of us knew how to name.

We decided to take some time apart. The night she went to her sister’s place, I sat on the balcony with a beer and texted Carolina on WhatsApp.

—Auntie, do you have a minute? I need to talk to someone who’ll listen without lecturing me.

She replied a few minutes later. I told her as much as I could: that Lucía and I were doing badly, that we were out of breath, that we’d been sleeping back to back for weeks. I spared her the details that hurt me most.

Two days later, Carolina texted me again.

—Nephew, I know you. And what you’re telling me doesn’t quite add up. I’m not judging you. I’m just saying there’s something missing from your story.

I stared at the message for a good while. It was true. The part I didn’t dare tell was missing.

—Auntie, some things are hard to say, even by chat.

—Tell it to me as if I were a friend. Nothing leaves here. I swear to you on my children.

I took a deep breath.

—It’s about sex. I take a long time to come. She comes several times and I don’t get there. In the end she gets tired, I feel bad, and it all turns into a drama.

It took a few seconds before she answered. Enough for me to regret opening my mouth.

—Nephew, don’t apologize for that. It’s the exact opposite of what women usually complain about. If your uncle lasted half as long as you say, I wouldn’t be playing solitaire so many nights, shoving two fingers all the way in to finish the job myself.

I smiled in the dark.

—I wasn’t expecting that answer, auntie.

—It’s the truth. In fact, if you weren’t my nephew, I’d tell you I’d like a partner swap for myself.

—Only if there were attraction, of course.

—Oh, nephew. Do you want me to answer you as a woman and not as an aunt?

—Do it. It’ll stay between us.

—Well, of course I like you. I’ve always liked you. You’re handsome, attentive, and now you’re telling me you can go on fucking. I swear my panties got soaked just imagining your cock inside me for an hour without slowing down. Sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you this.

—Don’t apologize. I like you too. I’ve liked you since that summer at the pool, when I saw you naked and had to jerk off that night thinking about your tits and your cunt.

—My God, nephew. What are we doing?

—I don’t know.

—If we keep talking, promise me that when we see each other with the family you’ll treat me like always. That this will be a game between us. Afterward we’ll forget it.

—I promise.

That night we talked until four in the morning. She told me what she hadn’t told anyone in years. She confessed that for months Eduardo had been coming in two minutes and then rolling over to snore. That she went into the bathroom with her phone to read dirty stories and finger herself until she came, biting a towel. I confessed the images that came into my head when she bent down to serve food —those tits hinted at by her neckline— or when she tied the pareo around her hips and her ass showed through. I told her that at the pool I’d had to turn around so she wouldn’t see my dick standing hard under my swimsuit.

—I’ve got my hand inside the pajama pants, nephew —she wrote—. My cunt wetness is running all the way to my thighs.

—I’m holding mine, auntie. I’m putting a drop of saliva on the tip so it slides better.

—Tell me how it is.

—Hard and dripping. With a vein showing underneath. The tip’s purple.

—Fuck. I’m pinching one nipple with my other hand. They’re rock hard.

—Put two fingers in, auntie. Imagine it’s my cock.

—They’re in already. You can hear it, nephew. It sounds like water.

—Rub your clit with your thumb while you move them.

—Oh, don’t say that or I’ll come.

—Come.

—Wait, I want us to come together. Jerk yourself faster. Think I’m on all fours and you’re putting it in me all the way to the balls.

—I’m working it hard. I’m about to go.

—Me too, nephew. I’m coming, fuck, I’m coming thinking about you.

We ended up both masturbating in different cities, describing every gesture to each other in real time, without daring to make a video call for fear that someone would see the screen. I came over my stomach in a thick spurt that reached my chest, while she wrote that she’d soaked her pajamas and the sofa and that her legs were shaking.

***

During the following weeks we kept playing by message. Every night, when everyone was asleep in her house and I was alone in mine, her name would appear on the screen. We talked about places where we could meet without anyone suspecting. Carolina lived an hour and a half away by car; I didn’t have children or a partner at home then. The logistics were possible, but the alibi was missing.

We found it by chance. One afternoon, at her house, in front of Eduardo, I dropped the line as if it were nothing:

—Uncle, I’ve got some shirts I’ve barely worn. If they fit you, they’re yours. When you pass through the city, pick them up.

—Great, nephew. Next time we go to do some shopping, we’ll let you know.

Carolina didn’t even lift her eyes from her phone. She was a better actress than I’d imagined.

Ten days later, Eduardo called me from the shopping center. He was with Carolina doing the kids’ wardrobe change. He asked if I was at home, if my aunt could stop by to pick up the shirts while he finished paying. I said yes, not to worry.

When she rang the bell, I’d spent two hours pacing the living room. I opened the door trying to look calm. Carolina came in carrying a canvas bag, put the car keys on the table, and closed the door slowly. She was wearing a white dress to the knee and her hair tied up in a high ponytail. She smelled citrusy.

—Hi, auntie —I said, not quite knowing where to look.

—Hi, nephew.

There were no more words. I took two steps, cupped the back of her neck, and kissed her. She kissed me back with a desperation I hadn’t expected, pushing her tongue deep into my mouth, biting my lower lip with months of hunger. The bags fell to the floor, her back hit the hallway wall, and the two of us started laughing from nerves.

—I’ve gone three nights without sleeping thinking about this —she whispered against my neck.

—I’ve been thinking about it for years, auntie.

She pulled my T-shirt down off my shoulders and started biting my collarbone. I slipped my hand into her neckline, pulled one breast out over the bra, and bent down to suck her nipple. It was hard, big, and she arched her back against the wall as soon as I bit it. I slowly lifted her dress until I found the edge of lace panties that felt wet just from brushing them. I slid a finger under the fabric and stroked her cunt in the hallway: she was soaked, slipping as if oil had been poured over her. I slipped two fingers inside her and she folded over me, panting in my ear.

—Fuck, nephew, don’t stop.

—Carolina —I said, calling her by her name for the first time, without “auntie” in front of it—, take me to the bedroom before I lose my mind right here.

We walked to the room without letting go of each other, shedding clothes along the hallway floor: first my T-shirt, then her dress, then the bra, which came off with one movement. When we went in, she was only wearing panties, and I was in boxer briefs with my dick outlined underneath the fabric. She knelt in front of the bed, pulled my pants down without hurry, and when my cock sprang free, a low moan escaped her before she looked up at me.

—Jesus, nephew. It’s gorgeous.

—It’s yours, auntie. Do whatever you want with it.

She gripped it at the base with both hands, studied it for a second as if memorizing it, and took it into her mouth without warning. She took me down in one stroke to the throat and pulled back slowly, sucking hard, dragging her tongue from my balls to the tip. I watched her from above and could hardly believe that this woman, the same one who had called me “nephew” for years and brought me cheesecake to birthdays, had my cock in her mouth and her eyes half-closed as if she were eating dessert. She took my balls too, one by one, never stopping her hand on my shaft, and when she returned to the tip she nibbled it and pulled back to look at me, her chin shining with saliva.

—Fuck my mouth, nephew. Put it all the way in.

I grabbed her ponytail and started moving her head at my pace, pushing my cock down her throat. She let me, swallowed, and when she ran out of air she slapped my thigh with an open hand so I’d take it out. She’d pull back, breathe, spit on the tip to lube it, and take it back in. We repeated that several times until I realized I was going to come in her mouth too soon.

—Come to the bed, auntie —I said when I couldn’t take any more—. I want to fuck you.

—On all fours, nephew. Like I told you on WhatsApp.

She took off her panties and got up on the bed without taking her eyes off me over her shoulder. I stood frozen for a second at the edge of the mattress, looking at her open ass and the swollen cunt peeking between her thighs. I knelt behind her and ran my tongue from her clit to her asshole, slow, not leaving a single place unlicked. She moaned loudly into the pillow and pushed her ass back, asking for more. I put my tongue into her cunt, shoved it in as far as I could, and then went back to her clit to suck it with my lips while I slipped two fingers inside her. She was soaked, so much that I almost laughed: it was dripping down her thighs and I was drinking it all.

—If you don’t put it in me now, I’m going to come just from your tongue —she panted.

I took a condom from the drawer, put it on with shaking hands, and positioned myself behind her. I rubbed the tip of my cock all over her slit, from clit to asshole, wetting it in her own juices before aiming for the entrance.

—Don’t make any noise —I asked, even though I lived alone and the neighbors were miles away.

—Then do it slowly —she replied.

I went in slowly, feeling how she opened little by little around my cock, squeezing me centimeter by centimeter. When I got all the way in and my balls hit her clit, she let out a long moan into the pillow. I stayed still for a second, feeling how her cunt throbbed around the head, and started moving very slowly, pulling almost all the way out and then pushing back to the hilt, watching her lips open and close around the base with each thrust. I don’t know whether ten seconds passed or three minutes. The only thing I remember clearly is that Carolina bit the pillow to keep from screaming and, before I could find my rhythm, came for the first time. I felt her shaking all over, from her thighs to her shoulders, and her cunt closed like a fist around my cock, milking me without mercy.

—Don’t stop —she said when she got her breath back—. Please, don’t stop.

I didn’t stop. I grabbed her waist with both hands and started fucking her harder, crashing my pelvis against her ass with a dry, wet sound that filled the room. I gave her a slap with my open hand and she pushed back, asking for another. I gave her three more, one on each cheek and the last in the middle, while my cock went in and out of her cunt with an obscene splashing sound. I grabbed her ponytail, pulled her toward me to arch her back, and leaned down to bite her shoulder without stopping my thrusts.

—Like that, nephew, like that, break me —she panted into the sheet—. Fuck me like nobody’s ever fucked me.

I pulled out, turned her onto her back, spread her legs wide open, and slid it back in all the way while looking her in the eyes. I grabbed both tits in my hands, squeezed them, pinched her nipples, and bent down to suck them while I kept driving in with long strokes. She clung to my back, her nails digging into me, and begged me never to stop. I lifted one leg, rested it over my shoulder, and like that, almost sideways, I found the angle that made her come a second time, biting the back of her hand so she wouldn’t scream the whole house down.

—I’m coming too, auntie —I warned her, feeling the tingle rise from my balls.

—Wait, wait —she panted—. Take it out. Take off the condom. I want you to empty it in my mouth.

I pulled out of her with my cock shining, ripped off the condom in one yank, and knelt over her face. Carolina opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and grabbed my cock to work it herself with both hands. In four strokes I exploded: I let the first rope hit the roof of her mouth, the second her tongue, and the last ones ran down her chin and tits. She swallowed what she could, collected the rest with two fingers and put that in her mouth too, staring straight at me.

—I’d wanted to do that for years —she whispered, licking her lips.

I let myself fall beside her, breathless, and ran a hand over her sweat-slick hip. And while I kept feeling her cunt still throbbing against my thigh, I knew that this wouldn’t be an isolated episode. That the shirts for the alibi would become books, records, any excuse that justified her car outside my building.

But that part of the story is for another day.