My Aunt Sat on My Lap in Front of Everyone

Three days later I stopped by my Aunt Remedios’s house again. It was an ordinary Wednesday, one of those days when the whole neighborhood seems asleep by midmorning. I was already twenty-two and only halfway through my degree, so I took advantage of the gaps between classes to sneak over to her apartment.

As soon as she saw me standing there at the door, she kissed me on the lips, grabbed my hand, and dragged me to the elevator. She said she was going grocery shopping and that I should come with her. We went down to the street together, she in a summer chiffon skirt, with nothing underneath, because according to her the fewer obstacles, the better.

As soon as the doors closed and the elevator started to descend, she pressed herself against me from behind. She slipped her hand inside my tracksuit bottoms and grabbed me without any hurry.

—Quick, my boy… put it in before it stops —she whispered in my ear as she hiked up her skirt and bent forward a little, bracing her hands on the mirror.

Nervous but already hard, I fucked her with one thrust. I started moving fast, feeling how her body bounced against me with every stroke.

—Keep going, Adrián, harder —she gasped, clamping her mouth shut so she wouldn’t scream.

The elevator was going down slowly, too slowly, and she bit her lip as she shuddered through a silent orgasm. She squeezed me so hard that I came too, just before the cabin stopped with a soft ding.

***

As soon as we got out, she asked me whether I had had breakfast. I told her no, and she invited me to a bar on the corner. I ordered toast with tomato and ham and a café con leche.

—Have some milk, go on —she said in my ear, pressing against me under the counter—, I’m drying you out. —And she winked at me.

She ordered a small beer and a slice of Spanish omelet. I asked if they could bring it out to the terrace, because inside it was unbearably hot. She sent me to sit down while she went to the bathroom. When she came back, she wanted to know what had brought me there so early.

I told her I’d come to bring her the invitation to the christening of Rubén’s son, my cousin and her nephew at the same time, and that I missed her. She smiled and stroked my chin with the tips of her fingers.

—And when is it?

—In two weeks, at Rubén’s estate.

—I feel like going to the village —she said—, but I don’t know what to wear. It’s been ages since your tight-fisted uncle let me buy clothes. So I’m going shopping right now.

I offered to go with her, because I needed a pair of jeans too. We went to the shopping center. We went into the stores together, she took a dress or a blouse into the fitting room and called me from inside.

—Come on, Adrián, help me see if it fits well.

Once inside, she left the curtain half open so the risk would be greater. She whipped her clothes off and stood there naked. She pulled my pants down, knelt, and sucked me off with a devotion that left me breathless, looking up at me from below with hungry eyes. Then she turned to face the wall, placed her hands on the partition, and spread her legs.

—Put it in from behind, quick… before they hear us and I get even hotter —she murmured.

I fucked her in silence, covering her mouth with my hand so no sound would escape. The fitting room smelled of sex, the curtain moved on its own, and some saleswoman would ask from outside:

—Everything okay in there?

The last time, we weren’t so lucky. A shop assistant yanked the curtain open, sick of the racket, and caught us half-dressed. She gave us a proper dressing-down and kicked us out of the store. I asked my aunt whether she was worried, and she shook her head.

—Do you think I’d go somewhere where people knew me knowing what was going to happen?

We ended the day laughing, finally buying the clothes we needed, and said goodbye until the appointed date.

***

The day arrived two weeks later. The christening was one of those events that, on the outside, seem perfectly normal, but inside are charged with electricity. The thrill, the risk, and the constant fear that Anselmo or anyone in the family would notice something odd.

It was at my cousin Rubén’s estate, a typical place in the mountains: a country house with a big courtyard, a barbecue, long tables under an awning, and a small pond beside which the ceremony was held. There was family from both sides, uncles, grandparents, children running around, and of course Anselmo and Remedios. My parents were there too.

My aunt arrived in the dark blue dress we had bought at the shopping center. It suited her perfectly: fitted at the chest without being flashy, loose at the hips but clinging to her body as she walked, and knee-length to keep things decent. She wore her curly hair loose with a clip and light makeup, her lips just barely painted red.

When she saw me in the courtyard, she gave me an aunt’s hug in front of everyone, but she squeezed my waist for a second longer than necessary and whispered in my ear:

—You look handsome in that suit… and you’re looking at me like you want to devour me right here.

I blushed, but I smiled. Anselmo was nearby, beer in hand, talking to Rubén and other cousins. He didn’t seem to suspect anything, though he kept his eyes on his wife every time she crossed the courtyard, jealous as always no matter how much he pretended otherwise.

During the ceremony we stood close to each other. She turned sideways so I could see how the wind clung the fabric to her body. When no one was looking, she brushed my hand or squeezed my thigh discreetly. The arousal hung in the air: the family all around us, Anselmo ten meters away, my father chatting with the uncles, and us with that tension of knowing that if we were caught, all hell would break loose.

***

Then came the meal: a huge paella, grilled meat, sangria, and music in the background. Remedios and I ended up at the same long table, though with people between us. She passed me the bread, brushing my fingers, served me sangria, and leaned in to whisper things to me.

—I’m wet just looking at you. If your uncle weren’t here, I’d take you to the garage right now.

At one point she got up saying she was going to the bathroom. I waited a couple of minutes and went after her. We met in the house corridor, away from the tables, and slipped into a small utility bathroom. I locked the door. As soon as I turned the key, she lifted her dress, pulled her underwear down to her ankles, and bent over the sink.

—Quick, Adrián… before someone calls.

I fucked her from behind, hard and deep. The mirror reflected her face in pleasure, her lip caught between her teeth, my hands dug into her hips. We finished quickly, because that was no place for explanations. She got dressed in an instant, kissed me, and pushed me toward the door.

—You go out first; I’ll act normal.

I went back to the table as if nothing had happened. She arrived two minutes later, cheeks flushed and a perfect innocent smile. Anselmo didn’t notice a thing: he was half drunk, talking football with the cousins.

***

Then came dancing time. They played fairground music, paso dobles, sevillanas, and a bit of whatever the older people liked. The courtyard filled with couples and children running between the legs. I stayed seated on a plastic chair at the edge, because I’m not much of a dancer, and even less in a tie.

Remedios went dancing with my parents. They laughed, spun around, my mother hugged her as if she were a sister. Anselmo was still sitting a few meters away, beer in hand, letting out increasingly vulgar laughs. She moved gracefully despite the tight dress, and every time she passed near me she winked at me.

At one point she twisted her ankle. She was wearing high heels and the uneven grass didn’t help. She let out a quiet “ouch” and limped over to where we were. She looked at her husband, who didn’t even flinch.

—Get up, come on, my foot hurts and I want to sit down.

—And why should I get up? Sit wherever you can —he replied, half drunk.

She looked at him with a cold hatred, but without raising her voice because of the family around her.

—No one needs to get up.

And then she sat straight down on my lap. In front of everyone: my parents, the cousins, Anselmo, the uncles. She settled in slowly, the heat of her body pressing against mine, the dress riding up slightly over her thighs. She put one arm around my neck as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

—Adrián is a gentleman… unlike you.

Anselmo let out a crude laugh and looked around for an audience.

—Well, if you sit there much longer, tomorrow the one who’ll be lame is him. —And with that drunk smile of his, he added—: You can put up with your aunt for as long as it takes, can’t you, kid?

I nodded, red to my ears, not moving. She laughed softly, settled herself better, and stayed there for a whole hour. In front of everyone.

And then what had to happen, happened. At first it was just the heat of her body against mine, which responded almost instantly beneath the suit trousers. She felt it, of course. She started making tiny circles with her hips, rubbing against me where no one could see, because the table hid us and people were paying attention to the dancing. Every time she laughed at something my mother said, she leaned in and whispered in my ear:

—You’re so hard. Am I drying you out, my boy?

I held her waist with one hand, like someone keeping her from falling. With the other I searched for her thigh beneath the dress. She spread her legs a little and I moved the soaked fabric aside, stroking her slowly, feeling how she tightened. She bit her lip, pretending to keep up the conversation while I picked up the pace.

Anselmo kept drinking, talking loudly, too drunk to notice anything. My father chatted with the relatives, oblivious to it all. Or so I thought. And there we were, in the middle of the family, her on my lap while my hand did its work beneath the dress.

When she came, it was silent but intense. She shuddered all over, pressed her thighs against my hand, and let out a sigh that she disguised as a laugh. She stayed still for a second, breathing deeply.

—Thank you, gentleman… you saved my afternoon.

She got up slowly, kissed me on the forehead in front of everyone, and walked away limping a little, though her ankle no longer hurt. I stayed there seated, my heart racing and my head spinning.

***

When it was time to leave, Anselmo was already in the car with the window rolled down, shouting that he wanted to go. He was dead drunk, face red, eyes glazed. Remedios walked up to the car, but before getting in she hugged me tightly, like any aunt saying goodbye to her nephew, and on the second kiss she whispered:

—Don’t worry… we’ll see each other soon.

Seeing him lurching around trying to put the car in gear, I went up to my father.

—Dad, I’d better drive the uncles. He’s in no condition.

He stopped me with a hand on my shoulder, serious but calm.

—No, son. Go with your mother. I’ll take care of them.

I didn’t insist. I got into the car, and as we drove away along the dirt road, I looked in the rearview mirror: my father helping Anselmo sit down, Remedios getting in the back with a tired expression. I thought the christening had been perfect: family, photos, paella… and a secret stolen from under everyone’s noses.

***

But the next day my world came crashing down. They sat me in the living room. My mother with red eyes from crying, my father with a hard expression. They had figured everything out: the looks, the brushes, how she sat on my lap and didn’t move, the times we both disappeared at once. They weren’t stupid. They had suspected for a long time, ever since I spent so many mornings at my uncles’ house, and the christening had been the final straw.

—We’re not judging you —my father said calmly—. But this ends here. Remedios is your uncle’s wife. And even if he’s a bastard, he’s still my brother. If he finds out, he’ll kill you both.

—We spoke to her this morning —my mother added, trembling—. We told her that it was the last time we were going to help her. That if she wants out of there, we’ll get her out: lawyer, money, a place to start over. But she has to keep you out of all this. Or we’ll tell your uncle.

I was frozen. I didn’t say a word. I just nodded with a lump in my throat.

Remedios agreed. This time, she really did. She went to a coastal village, to a family house that was empty. My father paid for the trip, gave her money for the first few months, and found her a simple job. Anselmo was left alone, drinking as always, knowing nothing else about her.

***

I went to visit her a month later. I took the train with my heart racing, convinced that we would go back to what we had before. I found her in a small house near the sea, thinner, calmer, her hair tied back and a tired smile on her face. She hugged me tightly, made me coffee, and we sat on the terrace overlooking the harbor. But when I tried to kiss her, she stopped me gently.

—No, Adrián… not anymore.

I asked her why. She looked me in the eyes.

—Your father really helped me. He got me out of there without asking me for anything in return. I can’t do that to him. I’m not going to keep going with you. You have to live your life without carrying this.

I cried. She held me like a mother, kissed me on the forehead, and said:

—I love you very much. But this ends here. Go home, study, fall in love with someone your own age… and don’t forget me.

I went back on the night train with my chest tight. From then on we were aunt and nephew, nothing more. Anselmo went on alone and bitter, and I never saw him again. She remade her life far away: work, friends, even a partner who looked after her. My father would tell me from time to time that she was doing well, that she was happy.

I moved on. But I never forgot that week in her house, or the christening, or how everything in me trembled when she sat on my lap in front of the whole family. It was the closest I ever came to something forbidden and real. And also the last.