The Gift My Girlfriend Asked Me to Give Her Mother

Outside, it was raining as if the entire sky wanted to empty itself all at once. It was cold; I knew it from the sound of the water against the windows, but in my room the heat was a living thing. I felt my nipples brush the sheet in time with Vera’s thrusts, her hands gripping my ass, the harness sliding in and out of me with an urgency that tore increasingly hoarse moans from my throat. My skin prickled with every snap of her hips. When the orgasm caught up to both of us, almost at the same time, I let myself collapse onto the mattress and turned to look for her.

Vera climbed over my body until she found my mouth. I kissed her slowly, with my tongue, savoring the sweet exhaustion left in us. Then I turned her over and started down her body with kisses: her neck first, then the valley between her breasts, her belly, until I reached her sex. I spread her legs carefully and removed the part of the harness that was still inside her. I blew over her lips while tracing circles on her clit with my fingers, and I heard her moan softly.

I took that clit between my lips, let it go, ran the tip of my tongue over it. I slid two fingers into her while I sucked her. Her eyes were closed and she was caressing her breasts, until her hands ended up on my nape, pushing me against her. Her moans grew more intense and ended in a long orgasm that left her trembling. When she opened her eyes, she looked at me smiling.

I climbed back up to her lips. We kissed. I settled my head on her chest and listened to her heartbeat slowly calm down.

—Vera...

—Mm-hm.

—I missed you.

—Me too. A lot.

—What are we doing this weekend?

—Sunday is my mom’s birthday. I wanted to give her something very special.

—Oh, yeah? And what are you going to give her?

—I’ve been thinking about something. And I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t trust you.

—Go on. What thing?

She stayed quiet for a moment, as if weighing her words.

—My mom once told me that when she was young she had a flirtation with another woman, but it never went anywhere because back then it was complicated. Then she married my dad, and he gave her a life of total dissatisfaction.

—And how can I help you with that?

—What if you give her what she never had?

At that moment, two things happened inside me. The first was a dull disappointment: that’s when I confirmed that Vera didn’t take what we had seriously, not this and not anything. The second was simpler. I had seen her mother a couple of times and thought she was an extremely attractive woman, one of those who walk into a room and make you turn your head. So it wasn’t exactly an opportunity I thought of wasting either.

—Let me see if I’ve got this straight —I said, propping myself up on one elbow—. You’re asking me to sleep with your mom.

—Exactly. To show her the pleasure she deserves after all the years she lost with my dad.

—And that changes anything between you and me?

—That depends on how you feel about the idea. I don’t want you to feel forced into anything. But I’m asking you because I know she’d be in the best hands.

I smiled so she wouldn’t notice my disappointment. It’s not like I was dying for a serious relationship either. But if I’d had to choose someone for something serious, I probably would have chosen her. Oh well, I thought. Keep enjoying the good sex. We talked a little longer about how everything would be, what I could do and what I couldn’t, and then we tangled back up with each other until we fell asleep.

***

On Sunday we went to the birthday party. There were relatives, some friends, too much cake, and music at medium volume. Vera had already explained to her mother what would happen that night; she confessed it had been hard to convince her, but in the end she had yielded to her own desires. After the cake was cut, when people started saying their goodbyes, I stayed waiting in the living room. The plan was simple: leave the house, take her to a hotel near the beach. I had everything ready in the car. All that was left was for her to get in.

Almost an hour passed. Marisol sat in the passenger seat, we said goodbye to her daughter with a gesture, and I started the car. The drive became tense. She was nervous, toying with a ring on one finger.

—Where do you know my daughter from? —she asked.

—From work.

—Is this what you do?

—No —I said, and laughed despite myself—. Let’s say it’s something her daughter commissioned with a lot of love.

—I’m very nervous. I don’t know what to do or say.

—You don’t have to do anything. Just let yourself be carried along. Do you want us to stop at the beach for a bit first?

—Yes. Why not?

—I want you to understand something —I told her, keeping my eyes on the road—. Tonight is for you. Whatever you want, however you want it. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, you tell me and we stop. No rush.

Looking at her out of the corner of my eye was a feast for the eyes. A mature woman, with everything exactly in its place, with that certainty of someone who no longer has anything to prove to anyone. We arrived at the beach, I took a bottle of champagne out of the trunk, and we sat on the cold sand. We started talking about anything. As the champagne did its work, she relaxed: she laughed at a couple of my bad jokes and, almost without realizing it, started telling me about her intimate life, about how little her ex-husband had taken care of her, about the care he had never given her. I watched her with complete attention.

I got up, went to the car and put on music. I came back and held out my hand to dance. Marisol hesitated for a second and took it. I took her hand, rested my other hand on her waist, low, almost at the top of her ass, and pulled her against me as much as I could to feel her scent. We danced slowly, staring at each other. Every so often her eyes dropped to my mouth, and I, knowing what that meant, shortened the distance until our lips brushed.

The first kiss was barely a touch, a shy dance. She pulled away, looked me in the eyes as if asking herself for permission, and immediately threw herself back at my mouth, this time with all the passion she had stored up for years. My tongue found hers. The kiss became so intense that we had to break it to breathe. The hand I had on her waist was already on her ass. We looked at each other, knowing what we both wanted.

We ended up against the car door, kissing without control. She lifted one leg and gave me access to her sex; I touched her over her underwear and felt her hot, wet, ready. Then she pulled away, stripped off her dress in one movement, and in her underwear ran toward the water. I watched her go as I stripped too. The beach being empty at that hour was a lucky thing. I went into the sea and caught up with her, and we kissed again with not a millimeter of space between us, wildly, with the waves crashing against our legs.

***

When we got out of the water we dried off, got half dressed, and drove to the hotel. We entered the room and the first thing was a shower to wash the salt off our skin. Every alarm in my body was screaming at me to take her then and there, against the tiles, without waiting. But no. Tonight had to be unforgettable for her, and unforgettable is built slowly. Seeing her naked under the shower water was a spectacle: cared for, firm, truly beautiful.

—I’m going to make sure you never forget tonight —I whispered in her ear.

—Make me yours.

I asked her to lie down. She lay completely naked on the sheets, wanting, with her legs barely parted. I took some things out of the bag I had bought for the occasion, including some soft feathers that I began to trail over her nipples. She laughed, but I could see her body tightening. I went down to her neck and devoured it; she smelled so good it was hard to stop. Her moans weren’t long in coming. I took one hand to her sex and massaged her clit in circles: she was soaked.

My mouth went to her nipples and paid them special attention, biting them just a little, sucking them eagerly. I kept going down to her sex, which smelled of pure desire. I kissed it, licked it, covered it all over as if it were the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. She was starting to lose it, moaning louder and louder. I penetrated her with my tongue, went up to her clit, sucked it, and went back down.

—Mmm, yes... like that, please —she gasped, arching her back.

I let go of her clit and settled my sex over hers, making sure we stayed in contact, clit against clit. By then we were both wet. I started rocking gently, rubbing our lips together, and as the agitation grew I rubbed harder against her. Seeing her from above, her face undone by pleasure, feeling all of her body pressing against mine, was a sensation I hadn’t had in a long time. She seemed to run out of air, until finally she screamed her orgasm and sank her nails into my thighs.

I fell onto her, trying to catch my breath.

—Incredible —she murmured—. I don’t remember ever having an orgasm like that in my life.

—We’re not done yet, beautiful.

I found the harness, wet it, and adjusted it to my hips. I sat on the bed and asked her to come over. From there I had the perfect view of her sex and gave it another long lick before asking her to sit on me. She lowered herself slowly, letting it in little by little, and when she was fully on top we embraced, breasts together, mouths refusing to let go. She began to move up and down to her own rhythm. I took her ass in my hands and helped her sway, delighted to have within reach her breasts, her neck, her lips.

With one movement I turned her over, lifted her legs onto my shoulders, and took her harder, thrusting in and out with pressure while she gripped the sheets. Then I put her on all fours and penetrated her again, giving her a few soft smacks on the ass here and there, reaching her clit with my free hand to stroke it. She started screaming, lost to herself. We had both lost count of the orgasms, but that one was the most intense of all.

I fell beside her. She turned over, still breathless, and stared at the ceiling with a silly smile. I penetrated her one last time from the side, very slowly, kissing her neck and stroking her breasts, until I wrung a final, calm orgasm from her. The calm that came after was as good as everything before it.

—What I’ve been missing all these years... —she said, almost to herself.

I kissed her shoulder. Her skin was still as soft as at the beginning. When it was already past midnight, we were both still awake, tangled in slow scissors that followed the tired rhythm of our arousal, until one last shiver caught us both at the same time.

Marisol had enjoyed her birthday gift to the very end. And I, as long as I had the strength, intended to keep enjoying her for the rest of the night. I’d sort out Vera and what we had another day. That night, facing the sea, there was no one else but the two of us.