The Weekend I Seduced My Uncle’s Wife

Mariana had been with girls her own age many times and enjoyed every one of them, but she carried a desire she had never confessed to anyone. She wanted to be the first woman of a mature woman. Not just any club lesbian; that would have been too easy. She wanted a gorgeous, married veteran, deeply heterosexual, the kind who had never once considered touching another woman. She wanted to be the one who seduced her, the one who introduced her to that world, the one who saw her surrender for the first time.

Every time she watched porn, she looked for the same thing: a young woman conquering, step by step, an older woman who resisted and finally gave in. In those videos she always imagined herself as the one in control, the one biting her lip and whispering in her ear until the other woman yielded. It was a fantasy that burned her up inside and that she saw as completely impossible. How many women did she know who fit all those requirements? She mentally went through her friends’ mothers, the neighbors, and always came to the same conclusion.

This is never going to happen to me. I’m going to take these cravings to the grave.

***

One morning, her mother asked her to take some documents to her uncle Eduardo’s house early, before he left for the office. When Mariana arrived, they had only just gotten out of bed. It was Lucía, her uncle’s wife, who opened the door, and Mariana’s mouth went dry.

Lucía was in her forties and wore them like a slap in the face. She was in a two-piece pajama set, rumpled, not a trace of makeup, and yet she was one of those women who make you look twice. Mariana had known her all her life; they were almost friends despite the age difference, but she had never seen her like that, fresh out of bed, with the thin fabric outlining her body.

My uncle is so lucky.

While Lucía made coffee, they talked in the kitchen. Mariana, still dazed by the image, tossed out the question casually.

—So when are you and I going to have some wine together, the way we always say and never do?

—Well, now we really are —Lucía replied, stirring in the sugar—. Eduardo’s going away on Friday and I’m going to be alone all weekend. Come over and keep me company.

—I’d love to —said Mariana, and she had to turn away so Lucía wouldn’t see the gleam in her eyes.

On the way back home she tried to come down from the cloud she was on. Lucía was her uncle’s wife, she was family, and the only thing she had offered was company and a few glasses of wine. Nothing more. Don’t get your hopes up. But no matter how many times she repeated it to herself, she couldn’t stop thinking that, one way or another, she was going to spend an entire weekend alone with the most beautiful mature woman she knew.

***

Friday came. Mariana put on a short white dress with a V-neck that hinted without quite revealing, and showed up at Lucía’s house as evening fell. Lucía greeted her in a very low-cut tank top and light leggings that clung to every curve. Mariana took her in from head to toe in the second it took her to step inside.

They started with trivial things: neighborhood gossip, family stories, the usual. But the wine did its work. By the third bottle they were both loose, laughing, and the conversation drifted, as often happens between adult women with a little too much to drink, toward sex.

—Are you happy with my uncle? —Mariana dared to ask—. In bed, I mean.

Lucía let out a tired laugh.

—I’ll be honest with you. We hardly do it anymore, once every two weeks if we’re lucky. And when we do, he finishes and that’s the end of the show.

—And do you still want it?

—More than before, that’s the tragedy. I get horny at anything.

—And how do you take care of that? Do you have someone?

—I have a vibrator and a lot of imagination —Lucía confessed, and covered her face, laughing—. Almost every day, I swear. A married lady masturbating like a teenager, you’d say.

—I understand you perfectly —said Mariana, pouring more wine—. Sometimes I leave someone’s bed and get home dying to keep going. As if nothing ever fills me up.

—Then we’re a couple of sluts who never get enough —Lucía laughed, and they clinked glasses.

Mariana felt the ground soften beneath her feet. Lucía was talking about her desire without shame, frustrated, hungry. She was exactly the type of woman in her fantasies: hot, neglected by her husband, and with no idea that her husband’s niece had spent the whole night imagining her naked.

***

They opened the fourth bottle. The conversation grew more intimate, more daring. At some point Lucía mentioned that her feet were tired from being on them all day, and Mariana saw the opening.

—I love giving foot massages —she said naturally—. Give me yours, come on.

Lucía took off her shoes and put her legs in Mariana’s lap without thinking. Mariana took one foot in her hands and started. She ran her thumb over the sole, spread her toes one by one, stretched them, went back to pressing with her knuckles. With every caress, Lucía sank a little deeper into the sofa, letting out a sigh she couldn’t help.

—When was the last time someone did this for you? —asked Mariana.

—Never. Seriously, no one had ever massaged my feet. And it feels delicious.

—Well, you’ve been neglecting them. I’d have to become your lover to take care of you the way you deserve.

She said it as a joke, smiling, gauging the reaction. Lucía didn’t shut her down. On the contrary, she closed her eyes.

—If you make me feel this good in every other way, I’ll take you right now.

Mariana kept going, now slower, more sensual. The sole of the foot is a treacherous place, and she knew it.

—Tell me something honestly —she murmured—. Is this turning you on?

There was a silence. Lucía opened her eyes, then closed them again.

—Before I answer, you answer me: if I said yes, would you stop?

—Not at all. I’d feel flattered knowing I’m making you feel good.

—Then yes —Lucía said softly—. I haven’t felt something like this in ages. Don’t stop, please.

***

The wine kept flowing. Fifth bottle. Between confession and confession, Mariana worked up the nerve to tell her own, knowing it was the exact moment.

—When I masturbate, I watch porn —she said, choosing every word—. But I’m not going to tell you what kind of porn, because you’ll reject me.

—Why would I reject you? —Lucía looked at her with genuine curiosity—. Let me guess, you like two women. Because the way you’re saying it, I can’t think of anything else.

Mariana nodded, holding her breath.

—And does that make you uncomfortable? —she asked—. Don’t you want to take your feet off my lap?

—Not at all. Go on, you’ve got me on edge. —Lucía laughed, surprised by herself—. If that’s what you like, who am I to judge you? The truth is I’ve never seen two women together. Tell me what’s so good about it.

—The delicacy —Mariana answered, without stopping rubbing her foot—. The eroticism, the patience. How they kiss, how they touch, how they care about the other woman’s pleasure. It’s the complete opposite of a rushed man.

—It sounds incredible —Lucía admitted, almost to herself—. I’m curious, I confess. Especially with what you’re doing to my feet.

—Would you like to watch? We’ll watch together. One condition: you let me keep touching your feet while we do.

Lucía hesitated for barely a second. The wine, the massage, the curiosity, and years of cold beds outweighed any reservations.

—Bring the wine —she said, standing up—. Let’s go to my room.

***

Mariana chose a video she knew well: a young woman slowly seducing an older woman, exactly the scene she wanted to star in. Lucía leaned back against the bedframe and Mariana sat between her legs to keep massaging her feet. They watched it in complete silence, not a single word.

Mariana wasn’t looking at the screen; she was looking at Lucía. She watched her breathing break up, saw her clench her legs, saw the color rise to her face with every kiss, every caress, every moan coming from the speaker. When it ended, Lucía let out a slow breath.

—You were right —she said—. I’ve never been kissed like that. If only your uncle did even half of that.

That was all Mariana needed to hear. She took Lucía’s foot to her mouth and ran her tongue over the sole, slowly, looking her in the eyes. Lucía said nothing, didn’t pull away, only kept watching her with parted lips.

Mariana let go of the foot, climbed onto the bed, and sat beside her. She took a long sip of wine, turned her head, and the two were left a hand’s breadth apart. They both knew what was going to happen. Mariana pressed her lips to Lucía’s, softly, once. Then again, and this time she barely bit her lower lip. Lucía closed her eyes and kissed her back.

***

They started kissing slowly, just like in the video. Mariana buried her fingers in her hair and drew her close, and the kiss became long, wet, deep. Finally. So many years imagining it as an impossibility, and now she had her there, her heterosexual mature woman surrendering in her arms.

She took off her tank top and unhooked her bra. She kissed her neck, went down to her breasts, and took them in her hands before bringing them to her mouth. Lucía started moaning, first softly, then harder, a broken breath blending with every lick.

Lucía, as if she remembered the film, reacted and started undressing her too. She pulled down the zipper of the dress, took it off, removed her bra. They ran their hands over each other’s bodies as they kept kissing, unhurried, like two women who had all night ahead of them.

Mariana knelt to take off her leggings and paused for an instant, looking at her in her underwear, surrendered and hot. She grabbed her ass and pulled her against her, and Lucía, attentive to every gesture, copied the movement and squeezed her back. She kissed her again, long and wet, like Lucía had confessed nobody ever kissed her, while sliding her hand inside her underwear. Her fingers found the heat between her legs and started moving, and Lucía’s moans rose in volume, muffled against her mouth.

—Don’t stop —Lucía gasped—. Please, don’t stop.

Mariana pulled down the last garment, laid her back on the bed, and spread her legs. She went down kissing her thighs, slowly, drawing closer, until she reached the center. She tasted her with her tongue, unhurried, attentive to every tremor, to every muffled cry Lucía let out as she clutched the sheets. She brought her to the edge and held her there until Lucía’s whole body tightened and she came with a long moan, squeezing Mariana’s head between her thighs.

When it was Mariana’s turn, it was Lucía who laid her back and imitated her, clumsily but enthusiastically, discovering with surprise what she had so often done to herself alone. Mariana surrendered to the pleasure she had fantasized about for years, writhing until the lust that had held her captive all night exploded in an orgasm that left her sprawled out, breathless, unable to speak.

***

Afterward they stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, skin pressed together, the wine forgotten on the nightstand. Mariana stroked Lucía’s hair like someone protecting something newly conquered.

—Did you like it? —she asked.

—Promise me it won’t be the only time and I’ll answer —Lucía said—. But really promise me.

—I promise you. I wouldn’t miss the chance to be with you for anything in the world.

—Then yes. Never in my life have I felt so desired. Not even in the best years with your uncle. —She paused and smiled—. Though, to be honest, you had me surrendered with the foot massage already.

Mariana laughed softly and kissed her forehead. There was no point confessing that that weekend had fulfilled the dream of her life, that from the day she had seen her in pajamas she had set out to seduce her, that she had spent years imagining that exact moment. She kept it to herself. Some victories taste better in silence.