My Aunt Used to Say That Taking It from Behind Didn’t Count as Cheating

The image reflected in the wardrobe mirror was the sum of several months of patience. Bruno stood still, looking at it, savoring what he had built step by step since that discouraging beginning.

On the double bed there were two women on all fours, one about fifty and the other barely over twenty. Mother and daughter. Both broad-hipped and full-breasted, their faces turned toward each other while two men held them by the hips and drove into them without respite.

From the grimace on both of them, tongues out and tears sliding down their cheeks, it wasn’t hard to guess they were being fucked from behind. The headboard banged against the wall like a freight train.

—What a cunt, the mother; what a cunt, the daughter —Bruno muttered, and drove into them again.

To understand how everything had reached that point, you have to go back several months, to the day Remedios convinced her husband.

***

Heriberto ran a software company and was, above all, a righteous man. He didn’t care for nepotism. So when his wife, Remedios, asked him to bring Bruno, his newly graduated nephew, onto the staff, his first answer was a flat no.

Remedios took that refusal badly. For two days she treated him with icy courtesy, that polite coldness that reigned in the house. On the third, Heriberto gave in: there was a leave of absence, a middle-management vacancy, and perhaps the boy would fit. His wife hugged him as if his life had been spared and, as a bonus, offered to put him up in the apartment. There was plenty of room: only the three of them lived there, plus Noelia, their daughter, recently graduated and working at a lab in the city.

Heriberto swallowed and smiled. He didn’t know his nephew very well, but after the cold war of those days he preferred to keep his doubts to himself.

Bruno arrived like a breath of fresh air. He was twenty-five, tall, sturdy, athletic, and he carried himself with a kindness that won over even the wary Heriberto. In that conservative, devout family — mass on Sundays, a blessing before meals, prayer before bed — the boy was a cheerful variation on a boring routine.

What the family didn’t know was that Bruno couldn’t have cared less about religion. His only real interest was women, and once he moved in there he understood he’d hit a brick wall. He couldn’t bring hookups home, and he didn’t have money for an apartment. For someone used to never sleeping alone, a long drought began.

Hunger sharpens the wit. He started looking at the two women in the house differently. His aunt, Remedios, seemed the easiest target: innocent, naïve, the kind of voluptuous mature woman who turned him on. His cousin Noelia was a modern girl and seemed harder. He decided to start with the aunt.

***

It wasn’t easy. Remedios was not immune to her nephew — that was the problem — but morality and an incorruptibility that dismantled all his tricks held her back.

Bruno took advantage of every moment when Heriberto and Noelia weren’t around. He’d pace about in his underwear, the bulge clearly outlined, in front of his aunt’s flushed face. He’d shower with the door open and, already hard, call her over with the old story about a forgotten towel, letting her catch a sidelong glimpse of what her husband had never had. She’d reach out without looking and flee.

He played with an advantage, convinced that such a timid woman would never dare tell anyone about the harassment. The next step was in the mornings, when Heriberto’s car pulled out of the garage. He’d stand behind Remedios in the kitchen, press his bulge against her ass, and kiss her neck while she trembled.

—No, Bruno, please —she whispered—. I’m your aunt. Don’t do this to me.

But her nipples stood out beneath the fabric and her body sweated, disobeying her mind. The scene repeated itself every day. Bruno would later find her panties wet in the laundry basket and smile: the fruit was ripe, ready to fall.

***

One Monday he decided to put his cards on the table. When she once again pushed away the hand already sneaking under her clothes, he confronted her.

—What the hell is wrong with you? You strut around half naked to get me horny and then play the saint.

—I can’t, Bruno. I’m a married woman. And I’m your aunt. I can’t do that to your uncle.

—Cut the crap. No one has to find out. And look at the stain you’ve got there: you’re dying for it.

—It’s against my will —she replied, closing her legs.

—Look, either we sort this out between us, or tomorrow I pack my bag and leave. And if anyone asks me why, I’ll tell them the truth: that you were provoking me and I didn’t want to cheat on my uncle.

Remedios went pale. Bruno smelled blood and lowered his tone, conciliatory.

—But we can reach an agreement. I understand your loyalty to Heriberto. There are ways to satisfy a man without breaking your vows. You don’t need me to stick it in your cunt for you to enjoy yourself. You understand?

While he spoke, his hand was already roaming over the woman’s trembling ass, and this time she didn’t react.

—Touch yourself —he whispered in her ear—. I’ll take care of the rest.

Remedios lowered her hand, dazed, and began to stroke herself. He fondled her breasts, kissed her neck, probed the back entrance with a finger. The woman didn’t last a minute before she was shaking and coming with a muffled groan, looking at him almost tearfully, as if asking forgiveness for her own orgasm.

—See how it’s easier than it looks? —Bruno pulled down his underwear—. Take it.

She wrapped her hand around his sex as if it were a lifeline. She handled him awkwardly, frightened, until he finally came between their two bodies with an abundant spurt. Once the spasm passed, Bruno brought to her mouth the same finger that had been probing her ass moments before. Remedios sucked it without noticing a thing, still in shock.

—This isn’t cheating on your husband —he said, and kissed her. She answered with an enthusiasm that gave her away—. This doesn’t count.

***

For Bruno, preserving his aunt’s chastity intact was no problem at all. The mouth was enough — each time more skillful — and the ass, soft and welcoming. What mattered was having a submissive woman willing to swallow it all in exchange for the lie she hid behind: that without vaginal penetration there was no adultery.

Because who, seeing her with his load all over her face, could possibly believe she wasn’t putting horns on poor Heriberto? Remedios changed. She got completely waxed, had a couple of tattoos and two piercings, from which little crosses hung and swayed when he took her from behind. The Sunday-mass churchgoer had a wild B-side, a woman who went over and over the edge, even if she later cried from remorse.

Bruno loved that crying. He took photos of her right after, with her face wrecked, and insulted her to humiliate her more.

—Quit sniveling, you’ve come three times. More than in your whole life with your pathetic husband.

She would lower her head, feel a fresh pulse between her legs, and touch herself again. He smiled, satisfied.

—That’s more like it. Be happy.

***

Heriberto’s bowling afternoons were the best. The man had his club, his tournaments, and was gone for hours. Noelia studied or went out with her boyfriend, so the house was free. They’d start with a blow job on the sofa, continue with the rest, and Remedios would ride him herself or turn on her side, always touching herself at the same time.

One afternoon, things got complicated. The TV was loud and neither of them heard the door. When the light suddenly came on, Noelia was standing in the doorway, mouth agape. Her early departure had been moved up.

The scene was neither familiar nor edifying: her mother, the proper woman of the house, held by the neck while her nephew took her from behind on the sofa. Remedios tried to sit up and string together some impossible excuse, but Bruno, lost in his excitement, squeezed her throat and plunged back into her.

—What are you doing, slut? —he growled, without letting go.

Something changed in Noelia. Surprise and reproach gave way to a fascination she couldn’t control: the way her cousin dominated her mother, the size of what she had seen when her mother tried to escape. A damp patch spread through the crotch of her jeans, so obvious that the pair on the sofa noticed it without stopping their movement.

—What do you say, cousin? —Bruno pulled his sex out of Remedios’s body and held it on display—. Wouldn’t you like to try?

That second image was decisive. Noelia unbuttoned her jeans and dropped her hand. Her mother looked at her, frozen. Bruno brought Remedios’s face closer and spat in her cheek.

—I knew it. What a cunt, the mother; what a cunt, the daughter.

Remedios took the spit and closed her eyes again, focused on her pleasure and defeated as a mother. Noelia took off her clothes: more modern than her mother, she wore burgundy lingerie over breasts that were a little smaller but firm, and a wide ass that was begging for trouble. She was completely shaved too.

—You want it? —he asked, though the answer was obvious.

He moved Remedios aside and seated Noelia beside him. The girl leaned over his lap and took him into her mouth without disgust at the taste or the smell, devouring him with a skill that made it clear he was far from her first. When he probed her ass, he confirmed the same thing: the girl was no virgin anywhere.

—Come on, ride.

Noelia straddled him and impaled herself on him with a hoarse roar. Her breasts bounced, her eyes rolled back. Bruno never took his eyes off Remedios, crouched on the rug, touching herself with her mouth open and a thread of saliva hanging from it.

—Hey, stop looking and lick your daughter’s ass.

He had to say it twice. The second time, the woman crawled toward them, spread Noelia’s buttocks, and applied herself shamelessly, licking in time with the thrusts. Ten minutes later, Bruno recognized in his own breathing the usual sign.

—Up you get, your mother gets the gift now.

He lifted Noelia and offered his sex to Remedios’s mouth, which received it gratefully. He finished with such an abundant spurt that he himself was surprised.

—Don’t swallow it —he panted—. You have to share it.

He placed them face to face and recorded with his phone the transfer from one mouth to the other. He made them split it between them, show it to the camera, swallow it, and open their empty mouths. As a finishing touch, he made them kiss; the kiss ended up turning both of them on, and they put their hands back between their legs.

—Snap out of it and straighten up the living room —said Bruno, glancing at the clock—. In half an hour the cuckold shows up with his trophy. And open a window, it reeks. I’m going to shower.

Noelia laughed. Remedios, red with shame, went to open the window. Her daughter then noticed the tattoos covering her mother’s ass and thought about the new normal that was coming to the family.

***

That was a turning point. Remedios thought her nephew would leave her alone because of Noelia’s novelty, but Bruno had more than enough energy for the two of them. He still worked the aunt in the mornings; he received the cousin at night, in adjoining rooms and far from the husband’s bedroom.

Even so, he kept thinking about repeating that first time with both of them at once. He even considered inviting someone. The opportunity came when Heriberto’s club qualified for the regional final: an entire weekend away, in another city.

The man would have wanted the whole family to go with him, but Bruno took care that each one had an excuse. Noelia made up a getaway; he, pending work; Remedios, a neighbor with a broken leg she had to look after. Heriberto, convinced of his wife’s good heart, swallowed it all and left on a Saturday at nine in the morning, not suspecting how much his horns were going to grow over those hours.

The guest was Onofre, a veteran accountant at the company, in his sixties, crude and womanizing, who months earlier had helped Bruno cover up a mistake that could have cost him his job. Bruno owed him the favor, liked him, and shared with him the same predatory look. Onofre accepted with delight: not only because of the two women served up on a plate, but because he had known Remedios since she and Heriberto founded the company together, and because cheating on his former partner —the one who had prospered while he stagnated— tasted to him like poetic justice.

Half an hour after Heriberto left, Onofre arrived loaded with pastries for breakfast and well supplied with pills. He greeted Remedios with blatant groping; she, head down and nervous giggles, couldn’t help but get wet when the old man shoved his tongue all the way in and squeezed the buttocks spilling out of her thong. Noelia was more welcoming, moved closer, and when she ran her hand over his crotch her eyes opened wide.

—It’s huge —she murmured, unable to hide her excitement.

And so, in front of the three-panel wardrobe mirror, beneath the crucifix that presided over the marriage bed, began the best weekend Bruno could remember. Two men, a mother and a daughter on all fours, their faces so close that pain and pleasure ended up merging them into a wet, long kiss.

When their faces brushed beneath that cross, Bruno finally came, collapsed onto his aunt’s back, and heard her go looking for her daughter’s mouth again. The two of them already knew that, so long as he decided it that way, none of it counted as sin.