The Snowstorm That Changed Everything Between My Daughter and Me

Two years have passed since that December, and even now I’m still surprised by how little I regret it. I started writing erotic stories months ago, partly out of boredom, partly because I got turned on reading strangers’ comments. But none of those stories came close to the one I truly wanted to tell: the weekend my daughter came up to the attic and everything I had kept inside me for thirty years finally rose to the surface.

Let’s say my name is Carmen and my daughter’s name is Lucía. I was forty-seven then and she was twenty-eight. I had her very young, too young, and I never went back to university. My husband prospered, multiplied the family fortune, and I stayed in this huge attic taking care of a life that, most of the time, nobody saw. People think a life like that has nothing to confess. They’re wrong.

It was Friday and it had been snowing since noon. My husband, my son-in-law Andrés, and my grandson had gone to Lanzarote to watch a basketball game. A long weekend, five days ahead, and a cold that made neither going out nor taking out the trash appealing. Lucía arrived at the front door at six with a small bag and her face red from the wind.

—Mami, it’s starting to settle —she said as she came in—. Come look out the window.

We went to the big sitting room. The rooftops in the neighborhood were turning white one by one, and the streetlights’ glow bounced off the snow with an almost blue shine. We hadn’t been alone together for more than an afternoon in years. I was surprised to realize how happy that made me.

We ate dinner early, something light, and then I opened a bottle of hazelnut liqueur I’d been saving for occasions that almost never came. Lucía took off her boots and curled up on the sofa with her legs tucked in. She was wearing a plaid skirt above the knee and very thick black tights.

—Mami, can I ask you something and you won’t get mad?

—Depends. Ask me and we’ll see.

—You and Dad still enjoy it? I mean, in bed.

I laughed. I wasn’t expecting that question, not from her. My daughter had always been the most proper one in the family. I told her yes, that after so many years fucking him had become almost a job, but he still made me come like on the first day. I told her about the care I took with my body, the tanning beds I’d bought myself, the long hair he always asked me never to cut because he liked grabbing it while he fucked me from behind. Lucía listened with an attention that made me nervous.

—And with Andrés? —I asked her.

She lowered her gaze. She told me they hadn’t touched each other in months. And when they did, it was a formality, two quick minutes, his cock inside her half-heartedly and then he’d turn his back before she’d even gotten properly wet. I asked her if she still loved him. Yes, she loved him, but for her son, above all for her son, and she was afraid of discovering one day that there was nothing left at all.

I poured her another drink. The snow kept falling against the bay window and inside it was almost stifling from the heating. Then I confessed something I had never told anyone. A couple of years earlier, at the dressmaker’s where I usually went with her aunt Beatriz, I’d gotten so turned on watching the two of them — my sister half naked in bra and panties and the seamstress, a blonde girl who bent down in leggings that outlined her split cunt — that I got home, shoved three fingers into my pussy, and came against the edge of the bidet harder than I ever had in my life.

—Aunt? Seriously?

—Your aunt and the girl. Both of them. I imagined the blonde eating your aunt’s cunt and me watching on my knees. And then, for months, that was the fantasy I came to every night.

Lucía opened her eyes wide, but she didn’t laugh. She bit her lip and kept thinking. She crossed and uncrossed her legs and I noticed she was squeezing her thighs as if she couldn’t help it.

—Do you like women?

—It’s not that I like them. It’s that I’ve never had a pussy licked or licked one myself. And at this point I think I’m not going to try it.

There was a long silence. Then I half-jokingly suggested showing her the tanning machine my husband had installed in the back room. I warned her she’d have to see me in a bikini. She shrugged and raised her eyebrows as if to say “so what.” I led her down the hall and changed behind the door. When I came out, Lucía looked at me with a smile I didn’t remember ever seeing before on her face.

—Mami, you’re stunning.

—That’s what never being bored at home does for you.

—Take off the bottom too. I’m not judging you.

—Only if you take off your tights.

I don’t know at what moment it stopped being a game. I pulled my bikini down to my ankles and stood completely naked, tits out and my shaved cunt shining under the halogen light. She took off her tights without ever taking her eyes off me. Underneath she was wearing only the plaid skirt and nothing else. She slowly hiked it up to her waist and showed me her pussy. She had the same cunt as me, shaved the same way, with a pair of plump lips that parted when she sat down and revealed the wet pink inside. I hadn’t seen her naked in eleven years. She was me twenty years earlier, two cup sizes bigger, dark nipples standing firm, skin still unmarked.

—Lucía —I said, trying not to let my voice shake, though my cunt was soaked and I knew it—. Put something on, come on.

—You first.

We went back to the kitchen without finishing the striptease. Me, in a black nightgown that was almost transparent, one my husband had brought me from a trip: my areolas showed through, and the shadow of my mound. Her, in one of my old T-shirts and nothing underneath. We kept drinking, now with the bottle of cava open on the table. The conversation had stopped being a conversation. It was something else.

—Mami, what do men really like? Andrés always asks me for the same thing and I don’t know how to do it.

I explained in detail. No euphemisms.

—What drives them crazy is when you suck his cock like it’s the tastiest thing you’ve ever had. You take it all the way in, until you gag, then you pull it out with a string of spit, you spit on it, and put it back in. You play with your tongue under the head, where the skin is thinnest, and run the tip along the frenulum. The balls too, Lucía, you take the balls into your mouth one by one and suck them gently, like they’re candy. And above all, when he’s about to come, you look him in the eyes without taking it out of your mouth. They go crazy for that.

Lucía had her mouth slightly open and her breathing broken. She lifted her glass to her lips without realizing it was empty.

—And from behind? Andrés asks me to take it in the ass and I’m scared.

—With lube, sweetheart, and patience. One finger first, then two, while you touch the clit. When you’re relaxed, you take it slowly and move your ass to his rhythm. They come really fast, but while it lasts, it’s the hottest thing there is. Your father fucks me in the ass twice a month and I still start trembling when I feel the tip pushing in.

—Mami, stop.

—You asked.

I also told her about how I used to get her father hot by telling him fantasies that weren’t exactly fantasies. I confessed that the woman who appeared most often in those bed-time talks was Beatriz, her aunt. I’d tell my husband I was imagining Beatriz on her knees eating my pussy while he fucked me from behind, and with that fantasy he’d come inside me in spurts. Lucía set her glass down on the table very slowly.

—You’re crazy, Mom.

—Maybe.

It was two in the morning when we went up to my bedroom. I lent her the black nightgown and put on a lighter one. She complained, so I changed it without arguing. Lying down, with the lights off and the snow casting shadows on the ceiling, I asked her if she had always been this curious or if it was the alcohol. She answered that it wasn’t the alcohol.

—Mami, I need to jack off. I can’t take it anymore.

I laughed, I couldn’t help it. I kissed her cheek and told her to do it right there, not to get up. I even suggested she take off the nightgown because she’d be more comfortable. I helped her pull it off over her head. When her hand passed near my face, I smelled her cunt on her fingers — that warm, acidic, familiar and yet foreign smell — and I understood there was no turning back. This is my daughter, this is my daughter, this is my daughter. I couldn’t get the thought to stop me. On the contrary: it made me even hotter.

She started telling me about a video someone had sent her at a bachelorette party. A blonde girl, almost white-blonde, riding a black horse completely naked, her tits bouncing with the gallop and her cunt opening against the animal’s back. The fantasy had stayed with her for years, along with guilt. While she talked, my hand slipped under the sheet to my cunt and started moving to her rhythm. Two fingers in and out, my thumb pressing the swollen clit. She noticed and said nothing, just spread her legs wider and started touching herself too, not covering up, with the sheet fallen to her ankles.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. She was rubbing herself with her whole hand, palm pressed to her mound and fingers sunk in up to the knuckles. She went in with three fingers, came out dripping, brought them to her mouth, and shoved them back in. The sloshing of her wet cunt was louder than our breathing.

—Mami, say something to me. Anything. Tell me.

—Imagine your aunt Beatriz sitting on the edge of this bed —I whispered in her ear—. In her panties. Watching us. Her hand between her legs. Telling you to eat your mother’s cunt.

Lucía moaned so loudly she covered her mouth. Her hips lifted off the bed and she kept pressing against her own hand. I closed my eyes and imagined my sister naked between the two of us, and I came before she did, with a long spasm that shot from my cunt to my throat. We masturbated together, without touching, barely looking at each other, her voice whispering in my ear things that were no longer mine or the girl from the video’s. I came with a force I hadn’t felt since I was twenty. My thighs were trembling on their own and the sheet beneath me was soaked with fluids.

When I came back to myself, Lucía was still touching herself. She came two minutes later, with a sharp cry she buried against my shoulder, and I felt her hand keep squeezing down there while the last wave passed through her body. Then she stayed curled against my shoulder, crying a little.

—Mami, thank you.

—For what?

—For being the way you are.

We fell asleep like that, her naked against my hip, me in the nightgown wet with sweat and my own juices.

***

Saturday dawned with the whole neighborhood covered in white. Lucía woke me with a bite on the ear and a lazy hand slipping between my legs under the sheet. She parted my lips with two fingers and stroked my clit very gently, without saying anything, until I opened my eyes and found hers a hand’s breadth away. She pulled them out, shiny, and sucked them one by one in front of me.

—Good morning, mami.

We went down to the shopping center for breakfast and bought too much: rosé cava, prawns, salmon, roast meat, fruit to make it look innocent, and a cheap jar of mayonnaise, my secret vice. In the car, on the way home, we stopped for a moment at her apartment. She went up alone and came back down with a bag she wouldn’t let me see.

—Mami —she said when we were getting into the building’s elevator—. I’ve decided I want to sleep with you tonight. That we’ll have dinner like it’s a date and then fuck until Monday. I want to eat your pussy until you can’t take any more and I want you to do the same to me. If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Just tell me.

I didn’t say anything. I took her face in both hands and kissed her on the mouth for the first time. She opened her lips without hesitation and pushed her tongue all the way in, seeking mine, sucking it like she was eating me whole. I grabbed one of her tits over the coat and felt the hard nipple beneath the wool.

—That’s a yes —she murmured when the elevator stopped on my floor.

She made me dress in what she had chosen from my closet: a nearly transparent blue silk blouse with nothing underneath, a tight skirt to the knee, stockings with garters, black thong panties, and the black high-heeled shoes I’d never worn at home. She changed in the bathroom and came out in a lycra set and a top that showed more than it hid. She had brought it in the mysterious bag. It was clothes she’d bought for Andrés and never dared wear.

We had dinner in the kitchen, the only room in that house that felt like mine. We played a forfeits game. Every drink, one less piece of clothing. My blouse clung to my breasts when Lucía “accidentally” spilled cava on me and my nipples went see-through. She yanked it off me in one pull and licked the wet silk before it reached my skin, biting one nipple until I screamed. The meat got cold and the prawns waited until the end.

She served the seafood directly onto the pine table, no plates, and made me sit across from her. She climbed onto the table, spread her legs, and before starting to eat, she shoved the nozzle of the mayonnaise jar between the lips of her cunt and filled herself inside. A thick white stream began to show between her thighs.

—Mami, give me a prawn.

It took me a moment to understand what she was asking. By the time I did, I couldn’t think of anything else. I pushed the first one all the way into her cunt, head first, and shoved until only the tail was left outside. She closed her eyes and arched her back. I pulled it out slowly, dripping with mayonnaise and her juices, she brought it to her lips and started sucking it while looking me in the eyes, licking it clean before stuffing it into her mouth in one bite. We did the same with five or six more, laughing like two little girls, one after another, each time pushing them deeper in and pulling them out messier.

When the last one fell to the floor, I couldn’t stand it anymore. I grabbed her by the hips, dragged her to the edge of the table, and buried my face between her thighs. I licked her cunt all over, top to bottom, sucking up the mayonnaise mixed with her taste. I parted her lips with my fingers and pushed my tongue in as far as I could, searching inside, while my thumb rubbed her swollen clit. She grabbed my hair with both hands and pressed my face against her pussy, rocking her hips against my mouth.

—Like that, mami, like that, don’t stop, eat me all the way.

I ran my tongue over her clit in circles, sucked it, bit it very gently. I put two fingers into her cunt and curled the tips upward, looking for that spot that drove me crazy, while I kept sucking her little nub. I stayed like that a long time. I changed rhythm five or six times, drove her to the edge and then pulled away so she wouldn’t come yet, until she started begging me through moans to let her finish. When I finally did, she came with her whole body rigid, a gush of hot fluid against my chin, and then she curled up and I had to cover her with my skirt because she was shivering.

—You’ve wrecked me —she told me after a while—. I’d never come like that. Give me a minute and I’ll go.

She got down from the table, shoved me onto the sofa, yanked off my skirt and thong in one pull, and knelt between my legs. She kissed the inside of my thighs very slowly before moving up, nibbling my skin, leaving purple marks I’d see for days. When she reached my cunt, she blew on it first, and just the warm air made me jolt. Then she ran her whole tongue over it, from bottom to top, very slowly, and shoved it all the way in. By then I’d been wet for twenty-four hours and needed less than five minutes.

She sucked my clit with her lips tight, tugging at it like it was a tiny nipple, while she put two fingers in and moved them in circles. My legs were spread all the way open, resting on her shoulders, and I was gripping her head without being able to control myself. I came biting the back of my hand so I wouldn’t scream, though there was no one in the house to hear us, and the orgasm lasted forever. She didn’t pull away; she kept sucking me softly until my clit couldn’t take any more and I had to push her forehead with my palm. She stood up with her face shining and kissed me on the mouth. She tasted like me.

***

We cleaned up the kitchen naked, both of us, laughing at the mayonnaise and cava stains everywhere, our thighs still sticky and our cunts swollen. We talked for hours about what had just happened. Lucía asked me if I had planned it ahead of time. I told her the truth: no, but I had spent years fearing the day we would spend any time alone. I asked her if she felt guilty. She told me no, that she only regretted not having done it sooner.

—Mami, promise me one thing.

—Anything you want.

—That this doesn’t end on Monday.

That night we slept naked, wrapped around each other, with her thigh between mine and one of her hands sleeping on my breast. Before falling asleep, Lucía whispered to me that when she left the attic on Monday she would be another woman. That she was already starting to look at her aunt Beatriz, in her memory, with different eyes. That next time she saw her she was going to notice more carefully the way her ass was outlined under her skirt, the way her tits pressed against her blouse. I stroked her hair and told her we’d talk later. That we would have time to talk about many things.

Two years passed. Andrés left one morning and never came back, but Lucía wasn’t alone for more than a week. Aunt Beatriz came to the house on a summer afternoon, three months ago, in a pink dress that was too long, and this time I didn’t lack courage. But that’s another story, and I still don’t dare to tell it.