I Accepted My Former Boss’s Offer at Sixty
Things were not going well for Remedios and Andrés. The mortgage went up every year, their daughter’s studies away from home ate up their wages, the bills piled up, and the car, already old, brought nothing but trouble. Making ends meet was an odyssey, even with the help Andrés’s mother brought them almost every month. They were both already past sixty, and although they still worked, the aches and pains showed when it came to effort.
Remedios cleaned the house of some wealthy businesspeople. An enormous house, three stories high, with a garden and a porch. There she did everything: beds, floors, washing machines, ironing, shopping, taking the children to and from school and, lately, even walking the dogs. The lady of the house was not a good person, at least not with her. She woke up angry with the world and someone had to pay for it. It was almost always Remedios.
The gentleman was different. Bruno was kind, polite, never raised his voice. It was always “don’t worry, Remedios” or “do what you can.” They got along well, with respect. So when she could no longer stand the situation, neither physically nor mentally, he was the first person she spoke to.
“Listen, sir, I’d like to talk to you,” she said one morning, drying her hands on her apron.
“I’m all ears, Remedios. Don’t tell me you’re having trouble with my wife again.”
“Not exactly. But I’m turning sixty-two and this is too much for me now. Going up and down so many stairs, doing so much in so little time, and on top of that the daily arguments with madam… They’ve worn me out. I don’t even come to work happy anymore. I’ve decided to leave.”
“What? Don’t even think about it. I’ll raise your salary. What can’t be done today can be done another day.”
“That’s what you say. Madam doesn’t think the same. The decision’s made, I’m sorry.”
Bruno gave her a few days to find someone else. During that week he treated her more affectionately than ever, almost with excessive warmth. They were a young couple: he was thirty-four, his wife one year younger. It’s clear he doesn’t want anything from me, Remedios thought, but I still don’t deserve so much attention.
***
Andrés worked in a small computer and phone company. There were only three of them, boss included. He was comfortable there, the job didn’t kill him and he even liked it, but the pay was very tight and a bit of extra money never hurt.
That week it was Mr. Eustaquio’s turn to clean the building stairs. He lived on the same landing as Remedios and Andrés, on the second floor: two flats per floor, three stories and no elevator. The neighbors had agreed to take turns cleaning to keep the community fee down. Mr. Eustaquio would turn eighty the following year, so when it was his turn, Remedios cleaned the stairs for him out of kindness, without charging him a thing. He thanked her with little gifts: a flowerpot, flowers for the door, once even a piece of ham.
“You don’t need to bring me gifts, sir. I do it from the heart.”
“I know, Remedios, but I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t have a few details for you. And I’d give you more, lovely.”
It sounded like flirting. It had been a long time since Remedios had felt desirable. She was short, plain-faced, with a nose she thought was too big, and the years had added pounds to her frame. She’d always had a lot of chest, but now it seemed excessive to her. She had a belly, wide hips, and a body she herself looked at with resignation. There’s a lid for every pot, she thought, half joking.
“Lately I see you around here more often,” the old man went on. “Have you taken a vacation?”
“No. I’ve left the job I had.”
“Well now. I don’t know whether to feel sorry or pleased.”
“Why would you be pleased?”
“Because I need a woman to help me around the house. I’m almost eighty, I live alone, and I can’t manage properly. If you’re free, I’d like to hire you.”
They discussed the terms and came to an agreement. Remedios would have a new job, more comfortable: a small apartment on her own landing and well paid. She couldn’t ask for more. She went into her house happy. Then her mobile rang. It was Bruno, her former boss.
“Hello, Remedios.”
“Hello, Bruno. What’s going on?”
“Nothing, don’t worry. I’d like to discuss something with you, but not over the phone. When could I take you out for coffee?”
In the afternoons she was starting with Mr. Eustaquio, so her only free time was in the mornings.
“It would have to be in the morning.”
“Tomorrow at ten?”
“All right.”
She told him the café and they hung up. Remedios was left uneasy. She didn’t know what he wanted to talk to her about. She had already made it clear she wasn’t going back, especially not with his wife involved.
***
That night she went to bed alone, as usual. In summer, because of the heat; the rest of the year, because Andrés snored like a truck. They hadn’t really talked in a long time, they didn’t go out together, and sex was a once-a-month thing if they were lucky, and almost out of obligation. He spent his free time with the saxophone, his great hobby, and she spent her days alone.
The next morning she put on makeup, something she hadn’t done in ages. She didn’t have elegant clothes, and few things suited her well, but she put on her favorite outfit and headed out to what felt like a date, even if it wasn’t one. Bruno was already waiting, seated. When he saw her come in, he smiled, and she smiled back. They gave each other a long hug; he pressed her against his body and brushed her cheek with a kiss dangerously close to her lips. Remedios blushed.
“Well, tell me. What’s behind such a pleasant surprise?”
“That I knew I’d miss you, Remedios, but I didn’t imagine how much.”
“Oh, Bruno, you’re going to make me blush.”
No need: she already was, and quite a lot.
“Don’t get nervous, woman. It’s just that we had such a good relationship, and so many years…”
“It’s true, but I’ve already made a decision and there’s no going back.”
“I didn’t come about that.”
“Then what?”
“It’s something else, and I’m telling you with all due respect, with no intention of offending you. You know it: my marriage is no bed of roses, and I have many lacks. I wanted to ask if we could see each other a couple of times a week.”
Remedios was no longer blushing; she was livid.
“See each other for what, Bruno?”
“I’d like to sleep with you. You always seemed to me like a very appetizing woman. And I’d pay you well, very well.”
Remedios’s hands were trembling.
“But sir, forgive me. I’m a married woman of more than forty years, I’m about to turn sixty-two. I’ve never cheated on my husband. I don’t know any other man but him. How could I do that?”
“By clearing your mind and letting yourself go. You know I’ll treat you well, you know me, nobody will find out, and your finances will improve a lot. Think about it. When you decide, tell me.”
Bruno stood up, left her another kiss near the lips, and went away.
***
Remedios got home dazed. She had to prepare Andrés’s lunch and, in the afternoon, start with Mr. Eustaquio. At the old man’s place she knocked over a vase, then a cup.
“Forgive me, Mr. Eustaquio. I’m not having a good day.”
“Don’t worry, Remedios. You don’t have to explain yourself here.”
But her mind would not stop racing. That very night, from home, she sent Bruno a message.
“Hello. I’ve been thinking about it. I have a lot of doubts, but I’ll agree if we try, and if I don’t feel good about it, we’ll stop and nothing will have happened.”
“Of course. Delighted. Tomorrow the first time?”
“It’ll have to be in the morning. Where should I go?”
“Nowhere. I’d like it to be at your house, if possible.”
Her nerves came back. In the morning nobody was there: Andrés was at work, her daughter studied away from home. She had imagined a hotel, any room, not her own bed. Even so, she answered.
“All right. At my house.”
“Tomorrow at ten I’ll be there.”
That afternoon she showered and looked at herself naked in the mirror. She didn’t see herself as attractive, much less able to appeal to a young, handsome, wealthy man who could have any woman he wanted. With those thoughts she got into bed, alone as always, and sleep was impossible.
***
She got up early, had breakfast, put on lipstick, a little blush, and the prettiest lingerie she owned. When the door buzzer sounded, she opened without asking and waited for him at the door.
“Hello, Bruno. How are you?”
She closed the door and he wasted no time. He kissed her hungrily, burying his hands in her hair, tracing her neck with his lips. Remedios’s legs were trembling. No one had touched her like that in years, with hunger, as if they truly desired her. Bruno led her toward the hallway.
“Is this the master bedroom?”
“No.”
“I want to go to the master bedroom, please.”
She guided him there without stopping to think why he would want such a whim. As soon as she closed the bedroom door, Bruno kissed her again more forcefully, slowly unbuttoned her blouse, looking at her as if every inch of skin made his blood burn hotter. Remedios let out a breath through her teeth when she felt his hands on her back, sliding down to the clasp of her bra. He took it off carefully, freed her breasts, and kissed her neck, then her cleavage, then her nipples, which hardened instantly under his mouth.
“What delicious tits you have,” he murmured, panting. “I’ve wanted to put them in my mouth since the first time I saw you.”
Still tense, she ran her fingers through his nape and let herself be led when he pulled down her skirt and caressed her hips, her belly, her ass, as if he were memorizing that body he had desired for so long. Remedios was red, breathing hard, and each touch awakened something that had been asleep for years. Bruno knelt in front of her and kissed her stomach, spread her legs gently and kissed over her panties before pulling the fabric down with his teeth. The cold air brushed her pussy and she shivered.
“Let me see you properly,” he said, and he passed his tongue over the wet opening, slowly, licking her from top to bottom. “Fuck, look at you. You taste so good.”
Remedios gripped the headboard. She could feel Bruno’s tongue parting her lips, relentless, sucking her clit with fierce patience, slipping two fingers into her while he sucked her cunt without stopping looking at her. The groan that came out of her was abrupt, almost shameful, but he held her by the hips and kept going, deeper, faster, until she began to shake.
“Don’t stop… don’t stop, please,” she said, her voice broken.
Bruno straightened up, stripped with obscene speed, and stood in front of her, hard, his cock pointing toward her belly. Remedios looked at it despite herself, surprised by the size and by the way it pulsed, ready and thick. He spread her legs farther and brought her to the edge of the bed. He entered her slowly, centimeter by centimeter, as if he were entering a sacred place. Remedios let out a long moan when she felt him truly fill her, the open pressure of flesh, the deep friction, the delicious tension inside her cunt.
“That’s it, Remedios. Hold on. That’s it. You’re so tight.”
At first he took her calmly, moving his hips in short, deep thrusts, pulling out and pushing back in until he made her lose her mind. She, who barely recognized herself, began to move with him, to find the rhythm, to open her legs wider, to dig her nails into his shoulders when he fucked her without mercy. Bruno lifted one leg, changed the angle, and began to pound harder, hitting the bottom of her pussy with every thrust. The bed creaked. The headboard slammed against the wall. Each entry sounded wet, obscene, and Remedios felt Bruno’s cock going all the way in again and again.
“Look at me,” he ordered, breathing in broken bursts. “I want to see you when you come.”
She opened her eyes just in time to see him lick his thumb and rub it over her clit, drawing fast circles while continuing to drive into her hard. Pleasure rose in her all at once, brutal, and Remedios arched on the bed, moaning uncontrollably, until the orgasm ripped through her belly and her legs shook. She felt her cunt clench hard around Bruno’s cock, and that made him growl with even more hunger.
“That’s it, fuck… like that, like that.”
He laid her face down, lifted her ass, and slid his dick into her from behind again, gripping her hips as he fucked her from the back with a hard, animal rhythm. Remedios buried her face in the pillow, hearing her own panting and the dull clash of their bodies. He moved her hair away from her nape and bit her shoulder, fucking her more and more, alternating deep thrusts with short, fast ones that tore muffled moans from her. When he turned her on her side, he opened one leg with his hand and entered her again from a different angle, aiming at a spot that made her writhe with pleasure.
“You were made for me to fuck you,” he told her in her ear. “I’ve dreamed of you every possible way.”
Remedios no longer thought of anything. Only of the heat of that cock inside her, of the liquid staining her thighs, of the smell of her own arousal, of Bruno’s hands holding her firmly. He turned her face up again, spread her legs, and leaned over her to kiss her mouth while he kept driving into her harder, deeper, until she broke for a second orgasm, this time longer, more desperate, with a cry that came from her chest and left her breathless.
Bruno clenched his teeth, pinned her to the mattress, and finished with one final deep, long stroke, shuddering with pleasure, spilling his whole load inside her as he trembled over her body. Remedios felt the hot stream filling her cunt, the weight of his breathing on her chest, his cock still throbbing inside her while he emptied himself completely. Then he kissed her forehead, said “thank you” and “see you soon,” left some bills under the photograph of the couple resting on the bedside table, and went out. Remedios lay there, happy and confused. A man doesn’t make love to a woman like that unless he feels something, she thought. And for a moment she believed she was falling in love.
***
That’s how time went by. Bruno came twice a week, and she regained her will to live and to feel like a woman. Everything seemed wonderful. Or so she thought.
One afternoon, at Mr. Eustaquio’s place, the old man called her from the living room.
“Remedios, lately you look prettier than ever.”
“Oh sir, don’t say such things. I’m the same as always.”
“I like you more. And I know exactly why.”
“Mr. Eustaquio, you know I’m a married woman.”
“As well as you do. That’s why it surprises me that you let that young man into your house so often.”
“Watch what you say!”
The old man took out his mobile and showed her several photos of Bruno entering the building on different days, and a couple of recordings made from his door in which she could be heard moaning without restraint.
“Are you going to tell me that isn’t true?”
“Give me that, Mr. Eustaquio. What do you want to do with it?”
“I’m not giving it to you. For now you’re going to do what I tell you, or this reaches your husband. Understood?”
Remedios was left frozen. The old man, with a calm that was more frightening than the threat, asked her for things she did with disgust and with tears held back, feeling trapped in her own lie. When she left there, she cried in frustration. Now she would have to obey Mr. Eustaquio whenever he wanted, and she could do nothing to stop it.
Desperate, she called the only person she thought was on her side.
“Hello, Bruno.”
“Hello, darling.”
“The neighbor across the hall found out about us.”
“That’s normal, Remedios. It’s been a long time. Somebody had to notice.”
“But he’s threatening to tell Andrés.”
“Ah, worry even less about that.”
“Why? I don’t want him to find out.”
“Tomorrow is our day to see each other. I’ll explain everything then.”
***
The next morning the buzzer rang and Remedios opened the door. The sight nearly made her lose consciousness: Bruno was not alone. Beside him stood Andrés, her husband. She went rigid, unable to move or utter a word.
“Don’t be scared,” Bruno said with disconcerting calm. “Your husband and I talked. He knows everything. And believe me, he isn’t angry.”
Andrés lowered his gaze, with a strange mixture of shame and something she had never seen in him.
“We hadn’t had anything for years, Reme,” he murmured. “I’m not judging you. I just… want to be there.”
Remedios understood nothing and, at the same time, understood everything. Rage, fear, and desire mixed in her chest. Bruno took her by the hand and led her to the bedroom. Andrés followed them in silence and sat in a chair, by the wall, like a spectator in his own bedroom.
Bruno stripped again without haste and kissed her with the same hunger as the first time, while Andrés stared at her, breathing harder than she had seen him breathe in years. Remedios felt her legs weaken. This time there was no hiding place: the bed was the same, the morning light fell fully across her body, and Bruno’s desire, Andrés’s gaze, and her own shame rose like fire in her throat. Bruno spread her legs in front of her husband, kissed her belly, and then parted her cunt lips with his fingers, showing Andrés how wet she already was.
“Look at her properly,” Bruno said, without taking his eyes off her. “Look at her when I fuck her.”
Andrés did not answer. He only swallowed. Bruno entered her slowly while Remedios kept looking at him, seated, still, his eyes fixed on the scene. The shock of the situation thrilled her almost as much as the cock going in and out of her body. She heard herself moan and did not know whether it was from pleasure, humiliation, or both. Bruno took her harder, put her on all fours and fucked her while Andrés remained there, motionless, watching how Remedios’s ass bounced with every thrust and how Bruno’s hand gripped her waist to penetrate her without pause.
“See how she’s going crazy with pleasure?” Bruno said, glancing at him sideways. “This is what she’s needed for years.”
Remedios felt the orgasm coming again, inevitable, dirtier and more intense precisely because of her husband’s gaze. She came with a sob, clutching the sheets, while Bruno kept going until he emptied himself inside her with a long, hot, unmistakable load. When he finished, he stepped away, dressed without rushing, left some bills under the photograph of the couple, and took his leave with a gesture. Remedios and Andrés were left alone, in silence, on the bed they had barely shared for years. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. Nothing needed to be said.
Life really does turn in circles. What began as a secret betrayal ended up giving them back something they had thought lost: the desire to look at each other again. And that house, once mute and cold, was never that quiet again.
