The Mirror Game with My Mother and My Best Friend
Renata and I have been friends since we were babies. Our mothers met in high school, became inseparable, and years later got pregnant almost at the same time. We’re only a few months apart. We grew up with the same brand of baby formula, the same baptism photo, and a closeness that, at twenty-one, no one knows how to define anymore.
We were never sisters, although half the world took it for granted. At school, people would ask us about our surname, and we’d say yes out of habit. We were so alike in our gestures that sometimes I caught myself imitating her without realizing it.
My name is Nora, by the way. That Saturday, I’d gone with my mother to visit Renata and Silvia, her mother. A quiet afternoon plan: lingering coffee and gossip. As soon as we crossed the threshold, my mother went upstairs with Silvia. Renata and I stayed on the sofa with a movie neither of us was watching.
“Nora, I’m bored,” Renata said, stretching. “How about we take a walk in the park?”
“Okay, but let’s tell them first. Last time your mother looked at me as if I’d stolen the china.”
“Yeah, yeah. Come on.”
We turned off the TV and started up the stairs. I heard it first. A high-pitched moan, quickly swallowed by another. Renata stopped dead and looked at me over her shoulder. She didn’t say anything. Neither did I. We just kept climbing, step by step, as if the air had suddenly doubled in weight.
The closer we got to the end of the hallway, the clearer the sounds became. Silvia’s bedroom door was ajar, and through the crack came a thick, feminine, broken panting. Renata was walking ahead of me. My eyes were fixed on the curve of her back, on the way her jeans fell over her hips, and I noticed that my underwear was getting wet even though I hadn’t touched anything.
We peered inside. My mother was on the bed, her dress pushed up to her navel, her panties pulled aside, her back arched. Silvia, wearing a black lace set I’d never seen before, had two fingers buried to the knuckle inside her. She moved them calmly, like someone who knew the way by heart. My mother dug her nails into her shoulder and moaned with her eyes closed.
I grabbed Renata around the waist to lean in a little farther, and she gave a small start at my touch. The door yielded under our weight, and we both ended up standing in the doorway with the whole scene in front of us.
“Girls, what are you doing here?” Silvia asked without withdrawing her hand.
“We came to say we were going out,” Renata replied in a voice I didn’t recognize. “The question is, what are you doing with Nora’s mother?”
My mother slowly sat up without covering herself. Silvia walked barefoot toward us, her bra hanging from one strap, took us by the hand, and sat us on the edge of the bed. Each of us on one side, with the two of them facing us.
“It’s perfectly normal, sweetheart,” my mother said, resting her palm on Renata’s thigh. “Sometimes we’re no longer interested in our husbands. We help each other when we need it.”
“Just as some couples look for a stranger, we prefer to do it with friends,” Silvia added, slipping a finger down the neckline of my shirt and brushing my nipple over my bra. A silly little gasp escaped me. “Have you two never kissed each other?”
“Never,” I answered, my mouth dry.
Renata slowly shook her head, looking at me with something new in her eyes.
“There’s always a first time,” Silvia said. “And what better place to learn than in front of your mothers?”
They pushed our heads toward each other. When our lips brushed, I took the initiative. She tasted of piña colada from the carton and something bitter and sour I couldn’t identify. I put my hands on her waist and pulled her closer, and she slowly let herself go, opening her mouth as if asking permission. I felt Renata’s tongue slide over mine, clumsy at first, hungrier afterward. Silvia stroked my hair from behind while we devoured each other’s mouths.
“Very good, girls, very good,” my mother whispered.
They separated us to take off our shoes. They lifted us onto the bed and placed us facing each other, sitting on our heels. Silvia settled beside me, my mother beside Renata. I was about to ask what came next when I saw my mother grab Renata by the nape and give her a kiss far less delicate than ours. Renata moaned against her mouth.
“Do you like watching?” Silvia breathed in my ear.
“Very much,” I replied, turning to kiss her first.
Silvia kissed as if she were biting. She caught my lower lip between her teeth and tugged until I let out a nervous laugh. When I opened my eyes, Renata was straddling my mother’s thighs, her mouth swollen and one tit exposed.
“We’re going to play a game,” my mother announced, toying with Renata’s nipple between her fingers. “It’s called mirror. Everything Silvia and I do, you two repeat. You’re our reflection.”
“I like it,” Renata replied, breathing through her mouth.
She rose from my mother’s lap and knelt facing me, her jeans unbuttoned. I knelt too. Silvia ran her hands over my mother’s ass and squeezed it. Renata imitated her. Her fingers dug into my ass over my skirt and pulled me toward her.
They kissed each other’s necks and then devoured each other’s mouths hungrily. We did the same, but we didn’t know when to stop. I started pulling her shirt down, sucking her collarbone, biting the bone of her shoulder. Renata dug her nails into my back beneath my clothes and whispered dirty words in my ear.
“Looks like the girls don’t know how to follow the rules,” Silvia said hoarsely.
They separated us to rearrange the scene. Each mother grabbed her daughter, and together they put us facedown on the bed with our asses raised. My mother loved having me like that; I could tell by the way she stroked my buttocks over my jeans before yanking them down. I glanced to the side, and Renata was in the same position. Silvia was slowly pulling down her pants.
They shoved our panties between our buttocks until they were like thongs. The first smack caught me off guard, and I screamed into the sheet. I was ready for the second. They gave us about twenty slaps each, alternating their rhythm. Renata let out guttural moans I’d never heard from her in my life. My pussy was soaked and my ass was burning, and every smack made me squeeze my legs together like an idiot.
When they stopped, our mothers slowly undressed each other in front of us, biting each other’s necks and laughing in whispers. Then they undressed us, one garment at a time, as if unwrapping a gift. Silvia had big, heavy tits with dark nipples. My mother’s were smaller, with very pink areolas. I couldn’t look away.
“Now it’s your turn to do to each other what you see us doing,” my mother said.
Silvia lay down, and my mother climbed on top of her in an inverted sixty-nine. My mother’s tongue sought Silvia’s clitoris with the certainty of someone who had done it a hundred times. Silvia dug her hands into her ass and pulled her hips down until she pressed her face against her pussy.
Renata lay me down and climbed on top of me, her knees on either side of my head. I opened her thighs, saw her pink pussy glistening, and ran my whole tongue over it from bottom to top. She tasted of salt and something sweet. She shuddered, braced herself on my thighs, and lowered her head over my sex. I felt her tongue part me, explore, find my clitoris, and stay there, sucking slowly and then quickly. I ate her eagerly, pushing my tongue as far inside her as I could, searching for her knot, biting it until she moaned with her mouth pressed to my pussy and the vibration ran through my whole body.
We came almost at the same time. She came first, squeezing my neck with her thighs and rocking her hips against my face. I came two seconds later, my legs trembling and my stomach clenched, screaming against her flesh. Beside us, Silvia had come in my mother’s mouth with a long moan that echoed throughout the room.
“Switch,” my mother said, tugging me by the ankle.
They made us change partners. Silvia pulled me toward her, sat me astride her lap, and I buried my face between her breasts. I sucked one nipple, then the other, nibbling them until I drew a gasp from her. She gripped my hips and made me move against her thigh. I rubbed my pussy against the firm skin of her leg, leaving a wet trail, faster and faster. Silvia eventually lay on her back and gestured for me to sit on her face.
I obeyed. I lowered myself slowly, my hands braced against the headboard, and felt her mouth sink against me. Her tongue was broad and flat, licking me from my perineum to my clitoris in a single motion. I gripped her hair, panted, and pushed my hips down. Beside me I could hear my mother’s sharp, broken moans, and I knew without looking that Renata was doing the same to her. That it was Renata’s tongue driving her to the edge.
“Come, sweetheart,” Renata said to my mother. “Come in my mouth.”
Hearing my best friend speak to my mother like that was what finished me. I came on Silvia’s face with a long shudder, clinging to the headboard and biting my arm so I wouldn’t scream too loudly.
We switched again. And again. At some point, each mother ended up with her own daughter, and none of us said anything about it, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. My mother spread my legs, looked me in the eyes, and thrust three fingers deep inside me while licking my clitoris with a tenderness I’d never imagined anyone could possess. I came in her mouth twice in a row, unable to stop, clutching the sheet in my fists. She pulled me up by the waist, kissed me on the mouth, and let me taste myself on her tongue.
We didn’t leave that room all afternoon. When we went downstairs, the coffee was cold and the movie was still sitting on the same menu screen.
Since that day, we go to Renata’s house more often, or they come to ours. And since that day, my mother and I do it at home too, with the almost everyday possibility that my father might walk through the door one afternoon and catch us. Sometimes I think she wants that. And sometimes, when she looks at me from across the table while he serves dinner, I know I do too.