What Hugo Never Dared Do with His Mother

Hugo was the son of a single mother. Dark-skinned, with dark eyes, curly hair, tall and thin, still carrying that innocence some boys drag around longer than they should when it comes to women. He had been my best friend since we were kids, and for months he had had only one topic of conversation: his mother’s breasts.

That July afternoon we were up in a cherry tree stealing fruit. We had left the village behind and old Lorenzo’s orchard was a stone’s throw away. Hugo spat out a pit, stuffed a handful of cherries inside his T-shirt and, without looking at me, dropped the usual line.

—I almost touched my mother’s tits again. I was so close.

—What you were missing was balls —I answered.

—Yeah, that’s what I was missing.

—Same as always. What happened this time?

—I told her my head hurt and she sat me on her lap. She rested my face between her breasts.

—Big and soft —I said, mocking him.

—Don’t laugh at me, fucker.

—I’m kidding. And didn’t she offer you an aspirin?

—No.

—Of course. She wanted to give you the bottle, see if that would make the pain go away.

Hugo never found my jokes about that subject funny, but he kept telling me everything. It was the only way he had to get it out.

—Can you stop talking shit?

—Did you get hard again when you rested your head on them?

—Yeah. After that I went to jerk off.

I looked at him from the branch beside mine. The poor bastard spent his life jerking off. I, who was already messing around with a couple of village women, couldn’t understand how he didn’t realize the movie playing right in front of him.

—Look, innocent soul. Do you really think your mother doesn’t notice the bulge in your pants? Do you think when she makes the bed she doesn’t see the yellow stains you leave on the sheets? Your mother wants to sleep with you. She’s been alone for years and she’s young.

—And yours, when she strokes your head, does she also want to sleep with you, you little pervert?

—My mother doesn’t wear necklines down to her navel to walk around the house. I know because you told me.

—That’s when she’s hot.

—She is hot, yeah, but down below.

—Where are you going with this, Iván?

—To get you to sleep with your mother. She’s practically begging for it. And, if she’ll let him, me too.

Hugo took the bait.

—You’re the expert. How would we do it?

—Me spending a night at your house.

—That easy?

—You have to make the first move. Put your hands on her and ask her to show you her tits.

—You want me to climb onto her lap and have her warm my ass with her slipper?

That made me raise my eyebrows.

—She still hits you with the slipper?

—When I misbehave, yeah.

—With your pants on.

—No. Pants down.

There was a lot to unpack there and Hugo didn’t realize it.

—Fuck. And do you end up hard?

—Always. It’s just that…

—What?

—To punish me more, she sticks a finger up my ass. And I like it.

—You know it, I know it, and she knows it. Does she look at your cock after warming your ass with the slipper?

—She looks at it.

—Has she ever bitten her lip while looking at it?

—Several times. Do you think she likes it?

—Likes it? She wants to eat it.

—You’re getting me hard, Iván.

—You’re not the only one. And what does your mother do after spanking you?

—Her things. Sew, wash, iron. But at night she locks herself in her room and I hear her crying.

—Crying?

—She cries and moans. She sighs, moans, and in the end she ends up crying.

Carmen, Hugo’s mother, was jerking herself off in silence while her son did the same thing on the other side of the wall. That could not last much longer.

—And you never saw her naked?

—Almost.

—Almost how?

—Last month she bought a silk slip. She called me from her room to tell her how it looked on her. It was see-through. I saw her tits and her pussy hair. I got hard, covered it with my hand, and ran out. I was so embarrassed.

—You never told me these things.

—My mother says nobody can know about the spankings, the necklines, the nightgown and other things.

—What do you mean, there’s more?

—There is.

I pulled the thread.

—And did you see her like that again, all provocative?

—A month ago I saw her in front of the wardrobe mirror, naked from behind, touching her tits. But that was normal.

—Normal?

—Yeah, man. It was when there was that flea plague.

I almost fell out of the cherry tree.

—And you think it’s normal for your mother to be killing fleas with her tits?

—And with her fingers. Then she took one hand to her pussy. You don’t think she was masturbating.

—Of course not. She was suffocating them with her breasts, and since fleas can’t swim, she drowned them in her cunt.

Hugo made that face he made when he was about to understand something. Hand on chin, eyes to the sky, mouth twisted.

—Fuck. Yeah, she was masturbating. You’re right. My mother wants to sleep with me.

—At last you’ve fallen off the donkey.

—I also remembered something from the day before yesterday.

—Tell me.

—Around two in the morning I got up to piss and saw her naked on the bed, lit by the moon coming through the window. I got so hard it was like a horse. I pulled out my cock and beat it looking at her tits. My mother put her hands behind her neck, spread her legs and said, “I’m dying to have a thick cock inside me.” I got scared and, before she could see me, I finished in the toilet.

—You lied to me, asshole. You had seen her naked.

—A little lie. I think I should’ve gone over to her and…

—We’re both going to hell if we don’t haul ass. Here comes the crazy old man.

Hugo looked where I was looking. Lorenzo was coming down the little orchard path with his shotgun slung across his shoulder, about three hundred meters away. We climbed down the cherry tree at full speed and cut across the orchards until we reached the oak grove. There we ate the cherries we had tucked under our shirts, listening for whether the old man was following us.

***

That afternoon, Lorenzo turned up at Carmen’s door with the shotgun resting on his shoulder and his beret pulled low.

—Your son and the other one, that Iván who acts so cocky, keep breaking my cherry-tree branches.

Carmen was thirty-eight years old and had a body that stopped conversations. She crossed her arms.

—Are you sure it was my son?

—I’m sure.

—I’ll talk to him when he gets home. Do I owe you anything?

—No. But next time I’ll blast his ass full of salt from a shell.

Carmen had a nasty temper when it came to anyone laying a hand on her son.

—And you’re dead. Out of my sight.

The old man left muttering. By the time Hugo got home he already knew Lorenzo had spoken to his mother. And he knew that if he did what I’d told him, he could go from the slipper to something very different. Carmen was sitting on a chair in the kitchen, facing the stone sink.

—Want something to eat?

She didn’t seem angry. Bad sign or good one, depending on how you looked at it.

—I already had a snack.

—Sick of cherries, huh?

Hugo walked up to her. He took off her right slipper, a cheap black felt slipper sold at the market. He put it in his mother’s hand. He unbuckled his belt, pulled down the zipper, and let his pants fall. He was half-erect, thick, hanging over his swollen balls. He lifted Carmen’s dress and stretched out across her thighs.

—Punish me, Mother. I was bad.

—I’m starting to feel bad myself, son.

Hugo got scared.

—Are you dizzy?

—Almost. But it’s not the kind of dizziness you think.

She gave him the first slap.

Carmen had never hit him like that before. She felt the damp head of her son’s cock brushing the inner part of her thigh and began to get wet. She was spanking him with the slipper and, at the same time, her cunt kept opening and closing without stopping. She had gone too many years without tasting a man.

—Who told you to turn me on, Hugo?

—Iván.

—Did you tell him about the spankings and the necklines?

—Yes.

—You don’t tell people those things, son.

—He’s my best friend. He can keep a secret.

—What’s he after? Oh God, how wet I’m getting.

—He wants me to sleep with you. And if possible, him too.

—I’m wet, son.

—Down there?

—Yes. You can’t imagine how much.

She threw the slipper aside. Hugo stood up, reached up over her dress and grabbed her breasts, kneading them fearfully, as if they might break.

—Squeeze, son, squeeze.

Carmen pulled the zipper down her back, let the dress fall to her waist, and took off her bra. Two big white breasts, with brown areolas and thick nipples, were laid bare. Hugo went speechless. He had been dreaming about this for years.

—So beautiful. So soft.

He stroked and sucked clumsily. Carmen, stroking his hair, whispered for him to pinch one nipple while sucking the other. Hugo obeyed, adjusting the pressure to the rhythm of her sighs. Carmen took his cock and Hugo came all at once in her hand. What happened next surprised even her: feeling the hot seed in her palm and her son’s mouth on her nipple, Carmen came in silence, seated on the kitchen chair, her legs trembling.

(Hugo told me this the next day, in the cherry tree.)

***

When we got to the house, Carmen was washing dishes as if nothing had happened. She dried her hands and looked at me from the sink.

—I don’t want to see you with my son anymore. You’re a bad influence.

I almost slapped Hugo right there on the spot.

—As you wish, Mrs. Carmen.

I turned to leave when I heard her voice behind me.

—Unless what he told me about you isn’t true.

—I’m going to end up breaking his face.

—Who? My son? If you touch him, I’ll cut your balls off.

—Caught red-handed. What did he tell you?

—That you eat pussy like nobody else.

—He lied. I eat it better than anyone.

—And you slept with half the married women in the village?

—That’s a lie too.

—Yeah?

—Not even half.

Carmen smiled faintly. She sat down on the chair beside the stone stove and rested her hands on her knees.

—You’re leaving just for that?

—And because your son is begging for a slap.

Hugo didn’t open his mouth. He thought his mother was kicking us out. Neither of them imagined the sermon was theater.

—Unzip me, Hugo.

Hugo pulled down the zipper of her dress. Carmen stood up, let her hair down, dropped the fabric to her feet, and stood naked in the middle of the kitchen. Her mane reached her waist. She lifted her arms to untangle her hair and I saw her all at once: the oval breasts, the dark pubic hair, the white thighs. A full-grown woman’s body, without a hint of shame.

—Come here, Iván.

I went over. She opened my fly. When she saw I was half hard, she smiled.

—Now I understand about the married women.

She didn’t know how to suck. She squeezed, sucked, and blew as if that would make my cock swell. I kissed her on the mouth and at first she looked surprised, but within a moment her tongue was already searching for mine. Hugo had pulled down his pants and was stroking himself while watching us.

—Make him cum in spurts, Iván.

Carmen lifted her head.

—I only spurt when I piss, son.

—Today you’re going to cum that way.

While I kissed her, I slid two fingers into her cunt. I found the G-spot and started doing the come-here motion while Hugo bit her nipples. My fingers were sloshing. The more I worked at it, the wetter she got. Her moans sped up.

—Open your mouth and put it against your mother’s cunt —I told Hugo.

Hugo obeyed. I pulled my fingers out, stroked her clit horizontally, at full speed. Carmen was about to scream and I had to cover her mouth with my other hand. The gush came out like from a faucet: the first one soaked Hugo’s hair and forehead, the second went into his mouth, the third ran down his neck. She had the most intense orgasm of her life. Hugo drank down his mother’s juices, another of his fantasies fulfilled.

Carmen opened her eyes slowly.

—If I were the tavern keeper, I wouldn’t give you tobacco for sleeping with me. I’d give you the whole tavern.

—All I need is your cunt.

—Eat me. What are you waiting for?

***

What I wanted was to fuck her, but if you want something, it costs you something.

—What if we move to your bed?

—Let’s go. But naked.

The house where Hugo and Carmen lived was rented, a single-story place of stone and mud. It had three rooms: the kitchen with the lareira, Hugo’s room, and Carmen’s, with a two-mirror oak wardrobe and an old bed with a cornhusk mattress. Carmen had pulled back the sheet and thrown it against the wall. She lay face down.

—You’re late. I’ve already lost the urge.

Hugo looked at me, frightened.

—Let’s go. We shouldn’t bother her.

—You’re very stupid, Hugo. Very stupid.

Carmen confirmed it from the bed, face against the pillow.

—Yes, son, in these things you’re very stupid.

I climbed onto the bed and knelt behind her. I stroked her ass, pressed her cheeks together and spread them apart. I licked from the perineum to the little hole and went up her spine to the nape of her neck. I kissed her neck. Carmen turned her face and kissed me on the mouth. I went back down the same path. Back to her ass. I slapped it.

Hugo, beside the bed, barked:

—Don’t hit my mother. I’ll bite you.

—Shut up, son, shut up and fondle my tits —Carmen told him.

—Do you like being hit?

I gave her another slap, harder.

—I love it, son, I love it.

Hugo climbed onto the bed, slid his hands under his mother’s body, and kneaded her breasts. I kept squeezing and parting her buttocks and sliding my tongue into the little hole. I rubbed the head of my cock against the entrance. I pushed a little and half of it went in.

—You’re hurting her, brute —Hugo protested.

—Shut up and fuck her, Iván —Carmen ordered.

I pushed. The whole head went in. Carmen bit the pillow and took a hand to her cunt. The moans made Hugo’s cock rise and fall facing forward. I could feel that his mother was about to cum.

—Put your cock in her mouth, Hugo.

He looked at me as if I were insane.

—Are you crazy?

—Do it, son, do it —Carmen said, feeling me in and out.

—I’d fill your mouth with cum, Mom.

—Get it in there, fuck. Oh, oh, I’m coming.

Hugo lifted his mother’s head by the nape and slid his cock into her mouth. The moment the tip touched her tongue, he came. The contractions of the little hole on my cock sped up and then spaced out. Carmen swallowed while coming like a saint. I couldn’t hold back. I filled her ass.

***

Hugo got worried when he saw his mother breathing in short gasps.

—I think that was enough. Her ass must be wrecked.

—Give her two minutes and she’ll be good as new.

Carmen turned over and, still breathless, said to him:

—You should have believed it, Hugo.

Hugo got hard again when he saw her breasts. I lay down between Carmen’s legs and opened her cunt with my fingers. It was full of whitish cum. I licked it and cleaned it out.

—Play with my tits, Hugo.

Hugo sucked her nipples while I ate her cunt. I licked her outer and inner lips, slid my tongue into her vagina, fucked the little hole with the tip, and sucked her clit until the glans was out of the hood. Carmen stroked both our hair, her breathing ragged.

—Keep going, Iván, keep going, keep going, don’t stop. I’m coming.

She came, arching her back. Hugo, who had learned his lesson, covered her mouth with his hand so the neighbors wouldn’t hear.

When I finished, I got off the bed. Carmen opened her eyes.

—Where are you going like that?

—To get a condom. You don’t play with fire.

Carmen’s face lit up.

—Right you are.

I came back with the condom on. Hugo was sitting on top of his mother with his cock between her breasts. I got into the bed, grabbed her by the waist, lifted her, and drove into her to the hilt. Despite having given birth, she was tight. No one had penetrated her in years. After five minutes her cunt closed around me. Carmen took her breasts in both hands and squeezed them as if she wanted to milk them. Hugo’s cock ended up trapped between them. Hugo came like a little sparrow. I came like a lion inside the condom.

That was the first time I slept with Carmen, the village seamstress. The first of many. Carmen’s mouth was left sweet. Hugo’s too.