My Ex’s Mature Uncle Showed Up at My Worst Moment

I had just turned thirty and was six months pregnant when I realized that loneliness has a weight of its own. I worked from home, handled my things remotely, and hardly ever went out. After what had happened with my daughter’s father, I found it hard to trust even my own shadow.

We had gotten back together after two years apart. I believed him, again. I sold my apartment to move in with him, convinced that this time would be different. When I told him I was pregnant, he said the baby wasn’t his and that he couldn’t stay with me in that state. I packed my things that very night and started over from scratch.

That’s why, when I got a message from Esteban, my ex’s uncle, I stared at the screen for a good while. We had always gotten along well. He wanted to see me, take me to dinner. I accepted without thinking too much about it. I needed a friendly face.

We met on a Thursday at seven at a bar with tables on the sidewalk. As soon as he saw me, he stood up and hugged me as if he had been waiting for that moment for months. We ordered something to eat and the conversation flowed on its own.

—Camila, you’re beautiful —he told me, looking at me with a frankness that left me unarmed—. You always were, but pregnant you look different. I missed you these months. Not knowing anything about you had me feeling terrible.

—You’re sweet, Esteban. Thank you for being like this with me. It was never your fault that we drifted apart.

—My nephew is an idiot. I told him to his face when I found out what he did. I don’t understand what goes on in his head.

I lowered my eyes to my glass of water. Talking about it still tightened my throat.

—I left him, not the other way around —I clarified—. He gave me every reason in the world. But it still hurts. I sold my house for him, stopped working as a model, left everything. And it turned out the only promise he kept was the one to disappoint me.

My eyes filled with tears from pure helplessness. Esteban moved his chair closer, put an arm around my shoulders, and let me breathe without saying a word. That silent comfort was worth more than any words.

***

We had dinner peacefully, shared dessert, and when he saw it was getting late, he offered to drive me home in his pickup truck. It was ten and I didn’t feel like going back alone, so I accepted.

We got to the complex where I live. I don’t know if it was the wine, the night, or simply not wanting to be alone with my thoughts, but I invited him upstairs.

—Want to come in for a while? I’ll make you a coffee, or a beer, whatever you want.

—I’m never busy for you —he replied, and something in his tone gave me a tingle I thought I had forgotten.

We went up by elevator from the garage. I offered him something to drink and he chose a coffee. I went to the kitchen to make the pot, which I hadn’t used in weeks. He followed me.

—You don’t need to help me, Esteban. I can do it myself.

—I don’t want you to strain yourself making coffee for me.

—I haven’t done anything since I got pregnant. A little movement won’t hurt me —I said, laughing.

—I’d rather you strain yourself in another way. One we’d both enjoy.

I froze, hands over the filter. There it is, I thought. I turned just enough to find him looking at me in a way that left no room for doubt.

—Oh, yeah? —I challenged him—. You didn’t come upstairs to help me with coffee. I know you. You were staring at my cleavage all night, and now you can’t take your eyes off me.

—You’re perfect, Camila. Your mind, the way you speak, your face. Everything.

I found myself with my back against the counter. Esteban came closer until there was no space left, took my hand, and slid the other over my thigh, unhurriedly, measuring each reaction.

—You have the most incredible body I’ve ever seen. How could I not look at you? Let me make up for these months of neglect. Let me show you not all men are like my nephew.

—Are you sure about this? He’s your nephew. He’s my daughter’s father.

—If you give me the green light, I’ll erase even the memory of him.

***

And I gave him the green light. I cupped his face in my hands, felt that smile that forms on my lips on its own when desire wins, and kissed him. Slowly at first, then with an intensity that surprised both of us. His hands went up to my breasts, down to my hips, grabbed my waist as if he were afraid I might change my mind.

I unbuttoned his shirt while we kissed. It wasn’t the first time I’d been with someone while pregnant, but it had been a long time since I’d felt this turned on. He took off my T-shirt and the sports top I wore to support my breasts, fuller than ever.

When he saw me, he fell silent for a long few seconds, almost hypnotized. Then he touched me with a softness that contrasted with the roughness of his hands, a man’s hands, hands that work. That coarse texture against my skin set me on fire. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh.

His thumbs brushed my nipples, hardened and sensitive. He lowered his head and, when his tongue touched them for the first time, I couldn’t hold back a moan. He gave himself to them with a devotion that made my legs tremble. I stroked his hair, head thrown back and eyes closed.

Then he turned me gently. I rested my palms on the cold marble and he pressed against my back. His hands kneaded my breasts while his mouth traveled over my neck, the nape of my neck, the edge of my shoulder. Little kisses, soft bites that raised goosebumps all over me.

He went down my spine, vertebra by vertebra, until he reached the waistband of my pants. He slid them down my legs without rushing, along with everything else, and knelt behind me. His hands roamed my hips, my thighs, not leaving a single inch untouched.

—Ahhh… —escaped me when his mouth found the most sensitive spot.

His tongue drew slow, deliberate circles that left me breathless. I gripped the edge of the counter with both hands, my knees on the verge of giving out. I could hear him enjoying it as much as I was, and that turned me on even more.

***

When I thought I couldn’t stand any longer, he got up. He turned me around again, kissed me with his mouth still wet, and held my face with a tenderness I hadn’t expected.

—I’m surprised you still have this kind of energy —I told him, teasing him.

—You have no idea how much energy you give me.

I knelt in front of him. I took him in my hand, slowly, and started tracing him with my tongue before taking him into my mouth completely. I did it with all the experience I had, setting the pace myself, playing with timing. He gripped the edge of the counter, gasping, incredulous.

—God, Camila… —he murmured through clenched teeth.

I kept going until I felt he was at the limit, and then I stopped. I stood up, kissed him, and spoke in his ear with a voice hoarse from desire.

—I need you, Esteban. I haven’t asked anyone for this in years. It was always them begging me. But tonight I’m asking you. Take me to bed.

I saw his gaze light up. He lifted me in his arms without effort, as if my weight didn’t exist, and carried me down the hallway. Feeling his strength melted me. A real man, with years of experience in everything, rediscovering his own limits with the help of someone much younger.

***

He laid me down at the edge of the bed. We kissed slowly, keeping the flame alive, while his hands traveled all over my body. He stroked my face, my neck, my shoulders. Down over my belly, my thighs, until he reached my feet. He kissed my legs from the ankles and upward, with a devotion that made me feel adored.

He spread my legs, arranged them near his shoulders, and buried his face between my thighs. His tongue knew exactly where and how. I gripped the sheets, muffled my cries by biting my lip, moaned without recognizing my own voice. I was never one to enjoy being taken like that so much, but that night I could hardly believe what I was feeling.

He alternated mouth and fingers, reading every reaction in my body, taking me to the edge again and again without letting me fall all the way over.

—Please, Esteban —I begged him, writhing—. I need you inside me. I can’t take it anymore. Do it now.

He had me exactly where he wanted me: asking him for it myself, undone with desire for a man nearly twenty years older than me. He pulled his fingers out, kissed my belly, my breasts, and finally entered me. Slowly, unhurriedly, making his way in centimeter by centimeter until I felt him completely.

He started with a slow, measured rocking that made me moan with pure pleasure. It was exactly what I had wanted all night. Then he increased the pace, the force, while I begged him not to show me mercy.

I watched him sweat over me, with that face of absolute pleasure. His hands held my thighs, my legs wound around his body following each thrust. When he started stimulating me with his thumb at the same time, I lost all sense of everything. I let out a long, sharp cry, and the orgasm shook me to my core, harder than any I’d had in a long time.

***

—Come here, lie down —I asked him, still trembling.

He stretched out on the bed and I climbed on top of him. I put one leg on each side, guided him inside me, and started moving. I went up and down, changed speed, played with pressure. My breasts bounced against my belly. He held my hips, stroked my wrists, gasped in the same rhythm as I did.

It wasn’t easy for me to recover the agility I had before the pregnancy, but I gave everything I had. When my knees started giving out, I made him sit at the edge of the bed, turned my back to him, and sat on top of him. I began moving again, feeling him differently from that angle. Esteban kissed my back, nipped my shoulders softly, wrapped both hands around my breasts.

—You’re incredible —he told me in my ear, his voice broken—. I don’t have enough words.

My desire didn’t fade; it grew with every minute. Until he grabbed my hip, shifted up a little with his legs still apart, and slammed into me with a new roughness. He puffed in time with my moans, until finally he came inside me with a hoarse groan. He tore another brutal orgasm from me, and I let out a scream that was surely heard in the next apartment.

***

Afterward we stayed seated on the bed, kissing slowly, catching our breath. I was completely sweaty, without a single ounce of strength left. I looked at the bedside clock: it was almost four in the morning. Hours and hours of pleasure, desired and fulfilled by both of us.

—Camila —he said, stroking my face—, I thought I knew everything life had to offer me. And it turns out I knew nothing. Thank you for tonight.

—Esteban… —I replied, laughing tiredly—. I wish I’d met you before your nephew. You have no idea what we missed.

We stayed like that a little longer, wrapped in each other’s arms. Then he got dressed, had to think of what excuse to give his wife, and left. I lay down just as I was, exhausted and smelling like sex, and slept peacefully until noon.

It wasn’t the night I had imagined for my life. It wasn’t with the person I had once dreamed of. But it was, without a doubt, one of the best nights I have ever had. And for the first time in a long while, I fell asleep without thinking about him, my ex, or anything at all. Just about how good it feels, sometimes, to let yourself be cared for by the least expected person.