What I Saw in My Father’s Room That Night

What I’m about to tell happened almost twenty years ago now, but I have every image etched in my mind with a clarity that shouldn’t be possible. My father was turning 58. The official family gathering with my brothers and my stepmother Marcela was scheduled for Saturday, but his birthday was that Tuesday and I left work early. I thought I’d stop by to give him a hug before the big party, without warning him, to surprise him.

According to what he’d mentioned to me a few days earlier, he was going to be with some lifelong friends, celebrating quietly. I parked half a block away so they wouldn’t hear me arrive and walked to the house. Even from outside, something caught my attention: all the lights were off. A complete silence that didn’t fit with the friends’ gathering he’d described to me. The front door wasn’t locked.

I went in slowly. In the kitchen there were several empty beer bottles, two glasses with traces of red wine, and a small box on the counter that I didn’t quite identify at the time. My first thought was that someone had broken in to steal. The logic of fear erased every other possibility.

I started down the hallway. The house was single-story, and sound traveled without obstacles. A few meters from the main bedroom I began to make them out: female laughter, whispers, something moving on the mattress. Those weren’t the sounds of a robbery.

I stopped by the door. It was ajar, with barely a few centimeters of gap. I peered in.

The first thing I saw was my father standing on the bed, wearing an open white robe and giving two thumbs up, striking a ridiculous pose I’d never seen him do before. At his feet, two women were kneeling with their backs to the door, wearing almost no lingerie at all, leaving little to the imagination. One of them was holding a phone and had just taken a picture, because I heard the click and saw the flash.

I recognized Marcela immediately, though seeing her like that took me a few seconds to process. My stepmother was a little over fifty then but still in great shape, with that full body and those curves that now, in that position, were obvious in a way I had never allowed myself to look at before. Her ass opened into two wide half-moons inside a thong that disappeared between her cheeks, and her tits spilled over the top of her bra every time she breathed. The other woman had her hair loose, covering her face, and I couldn’t identify her.

Then my father took off the robe.

I froze. At 58, the man didn’t have a belly, was in good shape, and when he sat on the edge of the mattress with his cock standing, hard and thick against his stomach, with the two women moving toward him, I understood that what I was seeing was neither random nor improvised. They had planned this.

The two of them moved in without waiting. Marcela’s hands ran over his chest while the other woman took his dick in both hands and started massaging it slowly, squeezing the base as if measuring how big he was. Marcela bent sideways and ran her tongue the full length of it from balls to tip, in a slow lick that left a strand of saliva hanging. The other woman opened her mouth and took it halfway in, sucking on it with a wet sound that reached me clearly through the crack in the door. My father’s moans were low, controlled, as if he didn’t want to make too much noise even though the house was empty. The contrast between the darkness of the hallway where I stood and the warm light of that room made everything look like a cutout scene, almost unreal.

My hands were braced against the wall so I wouldn’t lose my balance. My legs were trembling a little, and it wasn’t fear anymore. Curiosity, or whatever it really was, had me pinned there without my being able to move.

Marcela pulled the other woman off his cock and shoved it into her throat herself, choking for a moment before pulling back with a sloppy sound. She took the unknown woman’s hand and guided her so that the two of them, together, licked his glans one on each side, sticking out their tongues like two cats licking the same spoon. At one point the other woman lifted her face to say something to Marcela and that was when my heart skipped: it was Viviana, Marcela’s cousin. I’d seen her at two or three family gatherings, always dressed discreetly, talking about her children or commenting on cooking recipes. She was a little fuller than Marcela, with wide hips and a presence I’d noticed at those gatherings without giving it much thought. Now, in that black lingerie, with a mouth full of spit and a chin shining with saliva and pre-cum, she was something entirely different.

***

What followed was a progression I watched without being able to tear my eyes away for a single instant.

Marcela climbed onto my father and settled herself over his face with a naturalness that showed it wasn’t the first time. She pulled her thong aside and sat her pussy on his mouth in one motion, and he immediately stuck out his tongue and started licking her from bottom to top, burying it between her lips while she braced herself on the headboard and began moving in circles over his face. It wasn’t a clumsy or hesitant gesture: it was the movement of someone who knows exactly what she wants. While she took control on top, grinding her cunt against my father’s mouth, Viviana focused below, took his whole cock in until it marked her throat, and started sucking it with a bobbing rhythm that made my father let out a deep, muffled sound against my stepmother’s sex.

Watching them work like that, coordinated, exchanging looks and little complicit laughs, disturbed me more than anything else. Marcela slipped off her bra and her tits dropped heavily against her chest, with her nipples hard and dark; she grabbed them and pinched them herself while riding my father’s mouth. Those two women I’d associated with Sunday lunch conversations were there, on that bed, as if they’d been doing this together for years.

The cousin paused for a moment, panting, with the shiny cock slapping her cheek, and asked Marcela in barely a whisper:

—Hey... is he always this hard when you suck him?

Marcela adjusted herself a little to answer, with her pussy still pressed against my father’s chin. Her voice was broken up, but the tone was that of someone bragging from experience:

—Always. But today he took something so he can handle both of us all night. He’s going to fuck you until you can’t walk, cousin. So make the most of it.

—Oh, your husband has such a delicious cock —Viviana answered with a little laugh, shoving it back in to the hilt—. No wonder you don’t lend it to anyone.

—Today’s the exception —Marcela panted—. Suck his balls well, he loves that.

I thought back to the kitchen. The box on the counter. Now it made sense.

Viviana obeyed, lowered her face, and took both balls into her mouth one after the other, then ran her tongue underneath to the perineum while keeping up with the handjob. My father jerked his hips and let out a louder moan. The cousin gave a moan back, as if the response had given her extra energy, and sped up, swallowing the whole cock and pulling it out with saliva dripping down her chin. The bed started squeaking. My father had both hands clamped on Marcela’s hips with a force that was visible even from the hallway, sinking his fingers into her flesh while he ate her pussy with his mouth open.

—I’m going to cum on your face if you keep going like that —Marcela panted from above, tossing her hair back—. Stick your tongue in, old man, deeper...

And she did cum, with a long tremor that shook her whole body and a gush of fluid that left my father’s chin shining. She got off his face, panting, her legs still weak, and shoved Viviana on the shoulder so she’d take her place.

—Your turn now, cousin. Ride him. I want to see you take that cock.

In a quick motion, Viviana stopped using her mouth and settled herself over my father, with her knees on either side of his hips. She took his cock in her hand, placed it at the entrance to her cunt, and lowered herself slowly, taking it all in at once while he let out a groan that echoed off the walls. She stayed still for a second, mouth open and eyes closed, feeling him all the way in, and then she began to move, first in circles and then bouncing up and down hard, those wide ass cheeks rebounding every time she sank down to the base.

—Oh, fuck... —Viviana panted—. You’re huge, so huge... you reach my stomach...

Watching her move like that on top of him, with those curves and that rhythm that didn’t let up for a second, with the big tits jumping against her chest at every thrust, left my mouth completely dry. Marcela, already recovered, moved to the side and grabbed the cousin’s breast to bring it to her mouth; she started sucking the nipple while Viviana kept riding my father, and he, with one free hand, grabbed Marcela by the hair and pushed her so the two women would kiss over him, tongues out and lips shining.

The squeal of the springs and the dull thuds of the mattress filled the whole house. I was glued to that crack, pulse hammering in my ears and already with a hard cock pressed tightly against my pants, processing that the “quiet birthday” my father had described to me had turned into this.

The scene changed all at once when my father, with a kind of energy I didn’t know he had, grabbed Viviana by the hips, lifted her off his cock with a wet snap, and turned her face down onto the mattress, putting her on all fours. The bed shrieked with the movement. Marcela then settled herself over her cousin’s face, sitting down exactly as she had sat on my father before, returning the gesture, while my father got down on his knees behind the guest, his cock pointed at her ass.

I watched as he, without overthinking it, lined himself up from behind. He took one cheek in each hand, spread her open, and buried his whole cock in her cunt with one thrust. A sharp cry was heard when he penetrated her that abruptly, a cry muffled against Marcela’s sex. The cousin arched her back and dug her nails into the sheets, but my father didn’t let up: he started fucking her with long, deep strokes, pulling almost all the way out and then driving it back in until his balls slapped against her clit with a fleshy smack. He grabbed her hair, yanked her head up for a moment to make her moan, and then shoved her directly against Marcela’s crotch, which was still up there taking in the whole show head-on.

—Eat, cousin, eat —Marcela ordered, gripping the back of her neck—. Stick your tongue out, like this... deeper... that’s it, like that...

—Harder —Marcela told my father over her shoulder, biting her lip—. Break her in, don’t be afraid, she loves it.

My father obeyed. He gave it to her harder, slapped one cheek with an open hand, leaving the red imprint of his fingers, and kept pounding with a brutal rhythm that made the headboard bang against the wall. At one point he pulled his cock out of her pussy, spat on Viviana’s ass, set the tip against the other hole, and pushed slowly until he got that in too. The cousin let out a long howl against Marcela’s sex, her hands clutching the sheets as if she were about to fall.

—Ah, not in the ass, not in the ass... ah, you son of a bitch, yes, like that, don’t stop...

It was a crazy image: Marcela surrendered up top, with her tits hanging and one hand pulling the cousin’s hair to bury her face in her cunt; Viviana on all fours with my father’s cock buried all the way in her ass, screaming muffled against flesh; and my father hammering her with a fury that made the room tremble. The three of them coordinated in that pose, with a synchronicity that could only come from practice or from unbridled desire, filled the room with a continuous, heavy noise.

They switched once more before I could react. My father pulled his cock out of Viviana’s ass, and Marcela, without letting it cool off, bent down and took it whole into her mouth, sucking it and cleaning it with her tongue while looking my father in the eyes. Then she flung herself back beside the cousin, spread her legs, and asked my father to fuck her too. Viviana climbed astride Marcela’s face this time, and the two of them started moving together again, one eating the other’s pussy while my father took turns driving into them alternately, pulling his cock out of one cunt and shoving it into the other with barely any pause.

—Come on, cum inside —Marcela begged in a hoarse voice—. Come on, give it all to me... inside, old man, inside...

—No, on both their faces —Viviana answered between moans—. I want you to bathe both of us, cousin, don’t you?

Marcela laughed, panting, and the two of them knelt at the edge of the bed with mouths open and tongues out, waiting. My father stood up, grabbed his cock, and started jerking it fast, aiming it from one face to the other. He exploded with a long groan, and I watched the thick white ropes land on them, on their foreheads, cheeks, breasts, tongues. Marcela ran her fingers over her face and brought them to Viviana’s mouth, who sucked them like they were dessert. Then they kissed each other, both mouths full, passing the load from one tongue to the other.

I stayed a few seconds longer than I should have. The perversion was completely winning me over now, and there was no way to deny it. I felt that if I didn’t move at that moment, I’d be the one ruining the night.

***

I left the hallway with the same care I’d used to enter it. Every step calculated, setting my foot down little by little so the floor wouldn’t creak. The noise from the room, the moans and the rhythmic pounding of the bed that had started up again as soon as the kissing ended, covered the sound of my retreat.

In the kitchen I saw the box on the counter again. It was what I thought. I walked past it without touching it and left through the front door.

The night air hit my face. I walked to the car without hurrying too much, got in, started it, and drove away a couple of blocks before stopping. I sat there with my hands on the wheel for a long while, processing what I had just seen. That night it took me a very long time to fall asleep.

***

On Saturday I showed up at the party with a bottle of wine and a face scrubbed clean of any expression that might give me away. The house was full: my brothers, my brothers’ children, my stepmother playing the perfect hostess in her apron and a smile. My father in his immaculate shirt, slapping backs and accepting hugs as always.

I found it hard to look him in the eye.

Halfway through lunch, the doorbell rang. Marcela went to answer and came back with her cousin by the arm:

—Look who showed up to surprise us!

Viviana came in wearing tight jeans and a simple blouse, greeting everyone with kisses on the cheek as if nothing were out of the ordinary. When she reached my father she gave him a hug that any casual observer would have found perfectly normal. To me it seemed to last a second too long, and the cousin’s hand dropped a little lower than it should have at his waist. Marcela, from the kitchen, gave them a look with a specific glint that only I understood.

I sat down to eat with a knot in my stomach.

Viviana sat across from me at the table. She asked to have the salt passed to her, asked about my eldest brother’s children, commented on the heat this time of year. With that face of a family woman who had never set foot in another person’s room in her life. I knew exactly what that woman sounded like when my father had her bent over the mattress with his cock buried in her ass, and seeing her there, so calm, cutting chicken with her utensils, gave me a feeling that swung between embarrassment and something I preferred not to name.

Every laugh from my father brought back an image. Every time Marcela touched his shoulder, I saw the Tuesday scene projected on the wall behind them: my stepmother’s open pussy sitting on his mouth, the load dripping down the two cousins’ faces.

At the end of lunch, my father raised his glass.

—Thank you all for coming —he said in that same deep voice of his—. Honestly, this has been a birthday I’m never going to forget.

Marcela and Viviana exchanged a lightning-fast look. A glint. A restrained smile that turned into a clink of glasses with too much enthusiasm. My brothers attributed it to the emotion of the moment. I drained my glass in one swallow.

I got up from the table and went over to my father to give him the hug I was supposedly going to give him on Tuesday.

—I’m glad you could come today —he told me, patting my back—. You missed the quiet gathering on Tuesday, but what matters is that we’re all here.

—Yeah —I replied—. Better this way.

***

I never knew whether he ever suspected anything. I never told him, or anyone else. The secret stayed where it had to stay.

What did change was the way I looked at Marcela and Viviana at the gatherings that followed. Not in an obvious way, not in any way anyone could notice. But it was there. That Tuesday image came back on its own, without my inviting it, at the most unexpected moments: in the kitchen, with Marcela bent over taking something out of the oven and her pants outlining her ass; in the patio, with Viviana crossing her legs and her skirt riding up a little.

I never did anything about it. I never hinted at it, and neither did they. But there are things that, once seen, can’t be unseen. And my father’s birthday was one of them.