The Night My Son Left Us Alone on the Sofa

There was something different in the way I moved around the office that week. It wasn’t arrogance, or maybe it was a little, but the right kind of arrogance: the kind that comes from knowing you can still make someone want you. What had happened with Rubén kept sending a warm rush through me every time I thought about it, and all it took was closing my eyes for a second to feel his hard cock driving into me again, the weight of his hands squeezing my tits while he fucked me against the mattress. I resisted turning it into something more than it had been, but my cunt wet itself without permission every time that memory surfaced.

One of those days I ran into Marco in the small room where we had coffee. He was the new intern, with that mix of awkwardness and energy that people have when they still haven’t learned how to hide what they’re thinking. I was stirring my coffee with my back to him, very aware that my neckline was doing part of the work.

—Want one?

—No, thanks. I already have one.

I turned slowly.

—I wasn’t talking about the coffee.

There was a silence. Marco went red all the way to his ears.

—What do you mean?

—I think you understood me perfectly.

Just then a coworker walked in and the game hung suspended in the air. Marco gripped his mug too hard and left without saying a word.

***

That night I texted Fernando, a contact in another city with whom I’d been exchanging messages for months without the matter ever going anywhere concrete.

—Hi. I haven’t heard from you in a while.

—Carmen, what a coincidence. My parents just confirmed they’re leaving this weekend and you’re the first person to text me.

—I’m sure you have a shortlist of candidates.

—I do, but you’ve been in first place for months and I’ll never stop telling you that.

I told him about Rubén. Not the details, but enough for him to understand that I had crossed a line I’d been looking at from the other side for a long time.

—Was it with someone young?

—A lot younger than me. A friend of my son.

There was a pause.

—I’m glad you made the move. Although I was hoping to be the first.

—No one’s stopping you.

—I know. And I’m not ruling out the possibility that one day I will be.

I hung up with that strange feeling of having shared something important with someone I didn’t fully know.

***

Over the next few days I tried to restart the game with Marco, but the boy kept dodging me. He stopped showing up in the coffee room at his usual time. When I went up to his desk, the conversation was brief.

—Don’t you drink coffee in the mornings anymore?

—I had one before I got here.

—What a shame. —I rested a hand on his leg.— I thought you liked what you were seeing.

Marco didn’t yank my hand away. He did it carefully, almost gently.

—I have a girlfriend, Carmen. And honestly, it’s not really my thing.

I got up, went back to my desk, and sat in front of the screen without seeing anything for a good while.

Someone had to bring me down from that cloud someday. How convenient that it was him.

It wasn’t the end of the world, but it hurt enough to spend the afternoon being more honest with myself than I liked.

***

The next day, a coworker named Patricia came over with an invitation to the gym she’d just signed up for.

—It has a jacuzzi, sauna, indoor pool... The exercise part is the least important thing.

—That convinces me more.

—Next week?

—Yes. Why not?

I said yes mainly because I needed to think about something else. For days I’d been circling the same axis: how desirable I could be, to whom, and under what circumstances. Marco’s rejection hadn’t crushed me, but it had reminded me that I wasn’t invincible, and deep down that was a relief.

***

That same night, my son Sergio came home with the face of someone who’d been planning something for a while.

—Mom, everything’s sorted.

—What exactly is sorted?

—Saturday. You invited Marta over to watch a movie. She doesn’t know yet, but she likes cinema, so she won’t say no.

—Ah. Good.

—You had no plans, right?

—No.

—Rubén’s coming too. That was his mother’s idea. I suppose he was left wanting more after what happened with you two.

—Well, he shouldn’t get his hopes up. These things aren’t planned.

—You’re free to do whatever you want, Mom. I’m just telling you what’s going on.

I went to bed thinking Saturday was going to be a long evening. I liked Marta, but we’d never had all that much in common. And the idea that my son had put all this together with the calm of someone organizing a company dinner was, to say the least, disconcerting.

***

On Saturday I dressed with more care than I would have admitted. A dark green dress with straps that reached my knees and had a side zipper from the chest to the waist. Simple and effective.

They rang the doorbell. I welcomed both of them with a smile and two kisses each.

Marta was my age but wore it differently. Tight dark jeans, a ruffled T-shirt, brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had long legs, a narrow waist, and light eyes that took everything in. She was beautiful without trying to look it, and that had always made me feel a certain fondness for her.

—Thank you so much for inviting us, Carmen.

—Not at all. It was time we got together.

—I brought you this. —She pulled a bottle of red wine out of her bag.

—You shouldn’t have bothered. —But I was glad she had.— Come in. Make yourselves at home.

Sergio appeared from the hall and Marta greeted him with a familiarity that told me everything I needed to know about her intentions. Two long kisses on the cheek, an arm around his neck, a smile that was more than just politeness.

I poured the wine, the boys got beers, and before we sat down I asked Marta to pick a movie from the shelf.

—What a huge collection. You can tell you like cinema.

—Pick whatever you want.

—This one?

—A classic. Good choice.

Sergio put the film on and turned off the lights.

I sat next to Marta instinctively. Rubén settled at the opposite end of the sofa, and Sergio, without anyone planning it that way, ended up between his friend and me. I saw him glance sideways at Marta during the first ten minutes, and his patience didn’t last much longer than that.

***

Half an hour into the movie, Sergio got up to make popcorn. We paused the film to wait for them.

—Hey —Marta said without taking her eyes off the blank screen—. My son told me he’s been practicing massages with you.

—That’s right.

—And how good is he?

—He has incredible hands. He was born for this.

—I ask him to practice with me, but he doesn’t even want to hear about it.

—That’s how sons are. They’ve seen too much of their mothers.

—Yours, on the other hand, is adorable.

—He is.

The boys came back with the bowls. The sweet popcorn ended up in Marta’s hands, and she used the exchange to sit next to Sergio. Rubén, without saying anything, took the empty space beside me.

His arm rested on the back of the sofa, behind my head. At first that was all it was, an arm on the backrest. Then his hand moved to my shoulder, slowly, as if there were no rush at all. I watched the screen.

Every time he took popcorn from the bowl I was holding, his other hand took the opportunity to rest for a moment on my leg. A moment that stretched out, that climbed higher. His palm on my thigh was no longer accidental. I could feel it warm through the fabric of the dress. His fingers traced small circles while his other hand, the one on the backrest, slid from my shoulder toward my neckline and slipped two fingers under the fabric, searching for my nipple.

I stopped following the movie. My panties were already soaked and he hadn’t even gotten that far yet.

I glanced sideways at Sergio. The TV light lit his face and his eyes were closed because Marta was kissing him. Her hand had disappeared inside his pants and you could see him moving slowly, her fist closed around my son’s cock.

How familiar that scene felt from the other side.

I turned my head toward Rubén. He looked at me with that calm young men have when they know what they want but aren’t in a hurry. He kissed me. I didn’t respond the first time. Nor the second. The third time I gave in, opened my mouth to him with my tongue, and the rest of the living room ceased to exist.

***

We kissed slowly, lips open, biting each other’s lips, sucking each other’s tongues. He kneaded one breast through the fabric with an open palm, squeezing me hard, and I let him, one hand on the back of his neck and the other sliding down his pants until I found the hard bulge marked under the fabric. I squeezed it through the cloth. It was rock hard, and it throbbed under my fingers as if it had a life of its own.

Sergio got up from the sofa and took Marta by the hand.

—Where are you...— I started.

Marta turned with a smile.

—I’ll take good care of him. I’m leaving him in good hands.

They disappeared down the hall.

I stared at the empty space on the sofa for a second. Then I looked at Rubén.

—If she can have fun, so can I. —I stood in front of him and slipped off my shoes.

I pulled down the side zipper of the dress without hurry. I let it fall to the floor, kicked it out from under my feet, and stood there in my black bra and matching panties, breathing hard, knowing he could see the dark wet stain already marking the crotch of my panties.

Rubén looked at me without moving, his cock outlined like a post under his pants.

—Are you just going to stand there? Eat me out. Now.

I unclipped my bra and threw it to the floor. I leaned forward a little, offering him my tits at mouth level. He didn’t need to be asked twice.

When his mouth closed around my nipple I felt a spark shoot straight down to my cunt. I closed my eyes. My hands went to his hair and I pressed his face against my chest until I felt his teeth.

—Use them. Don’t stop. Bite them.

He liked being told what I wanted. And I liked telling him.

He sucked them hard, alternating one and the other, pulling the nipple with his lips, letting it go with a wet pop before moving to the next. He brought them together with both hands to get them both into his mouth at once, his tongue going back and forth between the two, leaving a trail of saliva that slid down my sternum. His tongue on my nipples was doing exactly what I wanted it to do somewhere else, and I imagined it so well that a long, rough moan slipped out of me, surprising even myself.

From the back of the hall came Marta’s voice. A sound that left no room for doubt: they were fucking, and from the way she was screaming, they were fucking well.

Good. Let them enjoy themselves.

I stopped him, put one foot on the sofa, and moved the fabric of my panties aside, showing him my cunt, open and shining.

—Here. Lick my pussy.

His mouth found the way without needing any more instructions. His tongue drove between my lips, first a long, flat lick from bottom to top, then the tip circling over my clit. He was good. He was very good. He took his time with each part, sucking my lips one by one, slipping his tongue inside my cunt as far as he could, but always coming back to the same spot, the one that made my fingers clench in his hair and pushed his face harder against me.

—Like that. Keep going like that. Suck my clit. Don’t stop, fuck.

I ripped his panties off in one pull and wrapped both hands around his head. I was fucking his face, moving my hips against his tongue, rubbing my open pussy on his face with no decency at all. I felt his fingers spreading my lips for better access, and then two of those fingers sliding inside me, curling upward, searching for the spot that made me arch my back.

My moans mixed with the ones coming from Sergio’s room. I didn’t care in the slightest. Let them hear it. Let everyone hear it.

I shoved him until he was stretched out on the sofa, got rid of the last bit of his panties, and straddled his face with my knees on the cushions, one thigh on each side of his head.

—There. Don’t leave anything out. Eat me all.

I lowered my cunt right onto his mouth. I lifted his head with one hand, gripping his hair, and rubbed myself against his lips as if I wanted to break his nose with my mound. He obeyed with exactly the pressure I needed, pulling my whole tongue out, moving it up and down, letting me set the pace.

—Look me in the eyes while you do it. I want to watch you eat my pussy.

His eyes locked with mine from below, mouth occupied, chin shining with my juices. I turned to see what he had between his legs without stopping riding his face. He had pulled his pants and boxer briefs down to his ankles and was stroking his cock with a closed hand, up and down the whole length. It was thick, with the head swollen and purplish, shining at the tip with a drop that had escaped. I liked knowing that. I grabbed it over his fist and he let go immediately, as if he’d been waiting for me to do it.

I leaned forward without moving off his face, ass pointed at the ceiling and my mouth right over his cock. I kissed the tip carefully, collecting the thick drop with my tongue. He tasted like himself. Then, less carefully, I took the whole head into my mouth and sucked it vacuum-tight. Rubén intensified the movement of his tongue on my clit until I had to let go of it for a moment so I wouldn’t lose concentration.

I took it again. This time all the way to the back of my mouth.

I started slowly, one hand braced at the base, feeling how he responded with his tongue every time I went down. I swallowed it whole, until the tip touched my throat and I had to pull back to breathe, a thread of saliva hanging between my lips and his cock. Then I went back again. And again. Our movements found a rhythm that sped itself up, as if each action from one of us amplified the other’s. I ate his cock and he ate my pussy, both of us drowned in the other, both of us moaning with our mouths full.

I felt his whole body tense beneath me, felt his cock swell even more between my lips.

—I want you to come on my face. —I pulled away to catch my breath and turned around, kneeling between his legs.— Give me all of it. All your cum.

I jerked him off fast, with both hands, one at the base and the other circling the head, while I ran my tongue along the slit at the tip. Rubén made a sound that was neither a moan nor a word, his stomach clenched, and I felt the first jet of hot semen hit my cheek and then my lip. I opened my mouth. The second jet landed on my tongue, thick, salty. The third slid down his own fingers, and I cleaned them with my mouth without taking my eyes off his.

I cleaned his cock slowly with my tongue, unhurriedly, gathering up the last drop, while he caught his breath, chest rising and falling.

I wasn’t done.

I knelt back over his face and this time I let him work without interruption. His jaw was still loose from the orgasm, but he dove back into my cunt with even more hunger than before, sucking my clit between his lips, tugging it gently, letting it go only to catch it again. His hands couldn’t reach my hips from that position, so he took them to my breasts. He squeezed them. He pinched my nipples gently at first, then more firmly, twisting them until pain and pleasure melted into the same point, and the second orgasm arrived without warning, with a jolt that forced me to brace one hand on the back of the sofa so I wouldn’t lose my balance. I felt my cunt clench over his mouth and he kept sucking, swallowing everything that fell into it, not letting go of my clit until I myself had to pull away because I couldn’t take any more.

I stayed still for a few seconds, sitting on his chest, breathing.

—You’re incredible —I told him when I could speak.

—It was mutual. Will we do this again sometime?

—We’re still doing massages. And whatever happens, happens.

I didn’t want to promise anything. But I didn’t want to lie to him either.

***

We got dressed in silence, without any awkwardness. I rewound the movie to where we had left off and when I returned to the sofa I stretched out against him with our legs intertwined. I turned the volume up to cover what was still coming from the hall.

About twenty minutes later, Marta appeared in the living room with her hair loose and a smile that made no effort to hide anything. Sergio came in behind her with the look of someone who had just won a bet with himself.

We called the night over without finishing the movie. Nobody complained.

—It was a pleasure, Carmen. Really. —Marta gave me two kisses at the door.— Shall we get together one day for a drink?

—Whenever you want.

We walked them to the elevator. We watched them leave.

Sergio closed the door and leaned against it with his arms crossed.

—Well?

—Look at the trouble you get me into.

—Trouble? From here you could hear pretty clearly it wasn’t trouble at all.

—Don’t mind me.

—I told you you needed it.

We each went off to our own rooms. Before falling asleep, with my head still turning in slow motion, I realized my son was right.

I needed it. And I wanted more.