At My Mother’s Wedding, I Discovered Something Forbidden

My name is Lucía, and I had just turned eighteen when my mother finally decided to get married. I never thought that day would come. Anyone who knew her knew that settling down was hardly her specialty.

Carmen had me at the end of medical school. She graduated the day before I was born. What came after was a life of travel, men who came and went without leaving a trace, and no sure surname for me. I had my suspicions about who my father might be, but she never wanted to find out. She said she’d rather raise me on her own than lie to just any man.

That was her: tall, blonde, blue-eyed, with a body that stopped conversations when she walked into a room. Flirtatious, open-minded, loyal to her friends. An incredible mother, always backed by my grandparents, who were incredible too.

I grew up surrounded by her passion for medicine. She’s a gastroenterologist, and from hearing her talk about her work so much, I ended up falling in love with the same profession. Right after my university entrance exams, in the middle of July and with a place newly secured at her very same hospital, nothing stopped me from catching a flight to Menorca to spend two dreamlike weeks there.

The wedding thrilled us. They had booked a small hotel for all the guests.

Andrés, the groom, is also a doctor. An incredibly handsome divorcé, with presence and a humor that won anyone over. He’s forty, one year older than my mother, and after barely six months of living together they decided to get married. From his previous marriage he has a daughter, Mariana, my age. She seemed like a nice girl, although up until that week we had only crossed paths three or four times.

Better I tell you little about myself. I look a lot like my mother physically, but I’m nowhere near as promiscuous as she is. I have one friend with benefits and little else. My studies are my priority, or at least they were until that weekend.

The wedding would be civil, on Saturday. A small group of close friends, the grandparents, Andrés’s daughter, and his brother with his wife and their two children. Some would stay on the island for two weeks; the rest would fly back to Valencia on Sunday.

I packed my suitcase very early. My flight left at eleven, and Mariana offered to pick me up by taxi to take me to the airport, since her uncles preferred to go by car. A kindness I appreciated. My mother and Andrés had left the day before for the preparations.

It was nine-thirty when Mariana rang the porter. I went downstairs with my suitcase and found her gorgeous, in a pale linen dress and with her hair freshly cut to jaw length.

We were both happy about our parents getting married. We didn’t stop talking in the taxi, in the airport queue, or at the boarding gate. We talked about them, the preparations, the island.

—Do you know my uncles well? —she asked me.

—I met them once. They seem very nice.

—They are. Very open. When you get to know them better, they’ll surprise you. You’ll see.

I could tell there was something she wasn’t quite letting out. She smiled with a different sparkle in her eyes, as if she were carrying a secret that weighed on her and amused her in equal measure.

—Mariana, you’re hiding something from me —I said once we were inside the plane, as we looked for our seats.

She bit her lip.

—Look, Lucía. You know your mother. But maybe you don’t know my family as well as you think. Just so you know: all of us are into fucking around. And I wouldn’t be surprised if our parents ended up in an open relationship.

She let out a nervous laugh and I swatted her arm. I took her hand so she’d be honest with me. When the plane took off, she squeezed my fingers hard.

—I’m terrified of flying —she confessed.

When the plane leveled out, she looked at me with a new expression. Without warning, she brought her mouth to mine and kissed me. A short kiss, soft, full of intent.

—What was that for? —I whispered.

—You’re so beautiful. Just like your mother. I’m jealous, girl.

—You are too —I replied, my face burning—. And much bolder than I am.

I kissed her back. This time it was long, with her tongue slipping in gently. My first kiss with a woman. An electric current ran down my spine and settled into a new heartbeat between my legs.

—I loved it —I admitted when we pulled apart.

—Then brace yourself. Because now I’m going to tell you how I lost my virginity… with your mother.

***

—Wait, what?

Mariana smiled at me, pleased with the effect. She had thirty minutes before landing, and she used them to tell me everything.

She explained that her father and my mother, on one of the countless nights they were devouring each other in the master bedroom, had caught her spying on them from the hallway. Instead of sending her away, my mother had gestured for her to stay. Mariana, aroused to the limit, masturbated openly until a moan gave her away. Then my mother invited her in.

—Your mother was very sweet —she told me in a low voice, so no one on the plane could hear us—. She knew we were both nervous. She kissed me, touched me, and undressed me with a sensuality I still remember. While my father watched us, she and I made out like crazy. When I came, it was your mother who asked him to join in. She said: “Come here, darling. Your daughter has been wanting that cock for too long. I want to see it.”

—I don’t believe you —I muttered, my mouth dry.

—Well, believe it. And believe this too: since that night, we’ve kept doing it. Whenever we feel like it. In any corner of the house. It’s our secret.

I didn’t know whether I was scandalized or whether my panties were soaked, or both at once. Mariana squeezed my hand and kissed me again. This time with hunger.

—I’m not telling you this to scare you —she added—. I’m telling you because I needed to tell someone. And because now that we’re going to be sisters, I’d rather you know than find out by accident.

—Did your father ask you to tell me?

—Absolutely not. It’s my decision.

—Then let’s do this. I know nothing. Everything stays as it is. I’ll need time to process it, but please, let my mother never suspect you told me.

—Done.

She looked at me with a wicked smile.

—Although I’m not going to lie. If you ever want to try my father’s cock, I don’t have a problem with that.

—Mariana…

—I was kidding. Half kidding.

We landed. We took a taxi to the hotel. Her uncles and cousins were traveling in another one, so the ride was just for us. My head was still spinning, but something had changed between her and me. A new complicity, hungry, dangerous.

***

When we got to the hotel, we found my mother and Andrés with the hotel manager. We kissed them on the cheek and left them finishing the preparations. We went up to the room we were sharing and, without even unpacking, locked the door.

—Shall we shower? —Mariana suggested, already pulling her dress off over her head.

She said it as if it meant nothing, but we both knew what it meant.

When she was completely naked, I stared at her. Medium breasts, perfect, her sex completely shaved. A total contrast to mine, trimmed but with a fine strip of hair at the top. I took my dress off too, unhurriedly, while she watched me.

The bathroom filled with steam. We lathered each other up slowly, tracing every inch of each other. Her hands were firmer than I expected. Mine, more curious than I would ever have admitted. We pressed our slippery bodies together under the water and kissed with the same hunger people kiss with when they know time is limited.

Saliva, tongue, fingers. Her hands on my ass, mine on hers. At the same time we searched for each other’s sex from behind, finger against finger. I had an orgasm almost without warning, pressing her against the tiles. She came just after, biting my neck.

We dried off in a rush. We fell onto the bed. Without preamble we did a glorious sixty-nine, eating each other out for what felt like hours. We licked each other’s feet. We put our fingers in each other’s ass. Then we sucked them, one after the other, looking each other in the eyes. Being eighteen and having bodies we were proud of made us feel invincible.

When someone knocked on the door, we had been in bed almost an hour. It was my mother.

—You coming alone, Mom?

—Yes, darling. Open up.

I opened the door wrapped in a bathrobe. Mariana covered herself as best she could. My mother came in, looked at the rumpled bed, the heavy air, and the nervous smiles on both our faces. She smelled of sex. Impossible to hide it.

—You’ve been in here for an hour and still haven’t gotten dressed —she said, in a tone that was anything but angry—. The ceremony is in two hours. I want you both looking drop-dead gorgeous. I can see you’ve already gotten comfortable with each other.

She said it without reproach. Almost with satisfaction. I turned red to the ears. Mariana grinned from ear to ear.

When she left, we both collapsed on the bed laughing.

—She knows —said Mariana.

—Of course she knows.

***

While we dressed we didn’t stop joking. After all, we were at the age of experimentation. Everything was new, everything was fun.

—Hey, Lucía, should I wear a thong or not?

—You decide.

—Because if I don’t, I can touch myself more directly. Or you can touch me.

—You’re filthy —I said, laughing.

—Come on. Both of us without panties. It’ll be fun, you’ll see.

—And why?

—My cousins. They’re at that awkward age. Pablo has shot up this year, Tomás is adorable. I’ll love teasing them and seeing their faces.

—You’re shameless.

—And you adore me for it.

We both ended up with nothing under our white linen dresses, which were slightly sheer. You couldn’t tell, but almost. We didn’t put on bras either, which felt more natural, though our arousal gave us away on its own.

At seven sharp we went down to the garden. My mother was radiant. Andrés, gorgeous. We sat beside my grandparents and Mariana’s uncles. Her cousins behind us. They started looking at our legs almost before we’d settled in.

The ceremony was short. Toasts, cheers, hugs. Then came the cocktail hour, cava and canapés standing up, everyone smiling. Mariana never left my side.

At dinner I was seated between my mother and my grandfather. Across from us, the cousins. Beside Mariana, her father. Dinner was lively, the wine flowed. Soon the dancing began. The older guests with their waltzes, the young ones pressed up against the back of the room.

Mariana moved her chair and crossed her legs toward the cousins. I, without thinking, sat beside her in the same position. The boys couldn’t hide it. She, apparently casually, let the fabric ride up millimeter by millimeter. I, infected by the wine and by her gaze, did the same.

We were two young women deliberately turning the cousins on. And they, poor things, trapped in their chairs. We couldn’t stop laughing.

Until I felt a firm hand on my shoulder.

***

—Princess, may I have this dance?

It was my grandfather. Sixty-five years carried with a bearing not seen in many men of forty. Tall, handsome, seductive. The most confident man in that room.

I nodded. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled his body against mine with a firmness that was not grandfatherly.

—You’re beautiful, Lucía. The star of the night, alongside your mother.

—Grandpa, you’re such a flatterer.

—I seem to have noticed you’re not wearing panties. Am I wrong?

My breath caught.

—They showed under the dress. I hope no one else noticed.

—Just a hint, my girl. You inherited your mother’s body.

—Grandpa, you’re getting rather bold tonight.

—Does what I’ve got in my trousers bother you?

I could feel it. Impossible not to.

—What are you saying, Grandpa? You’ve had too much to drink.

—Your mother has loved it for many years.

I looked at him wide-eyed. I wanted to pull away but he didn’t let me. It wasn’t just that I could feel his body. It was that he could feel mine. I felt naked. I felt seen. And, against all expectations, I felt wet.

—I need to go to the bathroom —I murmured—. Will you let me?

—My room is on the ground floor, facing the pool. Take the keys. I’ll be there shortly.

I’m not like this, I thought as I crossed the corridor. I’m not like this. And yet I took the keys. And yet I opened his door. And yet I sat on the toilet because, in fact, I did need to go.

When he came in without knocking, I wasn’t surprised.

—Let me clean you with my mouth. Carmen loved it.

My legs opened on their own. I lifted my dress with my hands. When his tongue touched me, I moaned so loudly I had to bite the back of my hand. He licked me as if he’d been waiting for that moment for years. Then he lifted me in his arms and dropped me onto the bed.

He unfastened his trousers. What came out didn’t seem to belong to a sixty-five-year-old man.

—My God, Grandpa, you’re going to split me in two.

He was careful. He entered me piece by piece. I moaned shamelessly, clutching the sheets. Mariana had been right: no teenage boy comes anywhere near a man with experience. He took me to heaven in minutes. I came harder than ever, unable to control a single thing in my body.

When he was about to finish, he put his cock in my mouth.

—Swallow it all, my girl. Like Carmen does. Don’t waste a drop.

I did it. I swallowed it all. I came again while I did. I’m like Mom, I thought. And there’s no going back now.

He leaned over me and gave me a long kiss. A man’s kiss. A dominant man’s kiss. And I, who would never have described myself as submissive, discovered in that instant that maybe I was.

—Come on, my girl. I don’t want anyone suspecting anything. Get yourself together; I’ll go out first.

I went back out satisfied and confused, my legs still trembling. The party was still going on downstairs. My mother was dancing with Andrés. Mariana was looking for me from the other side of the dance floor, with a smile that said she already knew everything.

Sooner or later I would have a talk with Mom. But that night, on that island, in that little hotel by the sea, I only wanted to know what else was possible in a family like mine.

And the party had only just begun.