My Daughter’s Pregnancy Ignited the Whole Family

The Sunday dawned with a blinding sun streaming through the living room windows. After the feast the night before, anyone would have thought we’d be sated, but in our house desire is the engine that keeps us alive. No after-dinner lull can extinguish it, no rest can soothe it.

My daughter Marina, with her thirty-four years and that belly of nearly nine months, got up hotter than ever. Hard as it may be to believe, pregnancy heats her blood in a way that can’t be explained. She walks differently, breathes differently, and when she looks at me a certain way I know the morning is going to bend toward the same old place.

While Rodrigo and Bruno were still snoring in their rooms, I went to the kitchen to make coffee. It wasn’t long before I felt strong hands circling my waist. It was my son-in-law Iván, already wearing his swimsuit and with that bulge pressing against the fabric that has made me lose my mind so many times.

“Good morning, mother-in-law,” he murmured against the back of my neck, and his hot breath made my whole back prickle.

I didn’t answer. There was no need. Iván cornered me against the counter and, without another word, yanked my panties down to my ankles. He entered me from behind with a brutal thrust, filling me in one stroke while I bit down on the back of my hand so my gasps wouldn’t wake the rest of the house.

The coffee maker was gurgling a hand’s breadth from my face. I clutched the cold edge of the marble and he held my hips with a force that left marks. Every shove made my belly knock against the drawer, and pleasure and the sharp edge of the furniture mixed into the same stab.

That was when Marina appeared in the doorway. Far from being scandalized, she came closer laughing, her robe open and her hair tousled. She pulled out a swollen breast heavy with milk and, playfully, began rubbing it against her husband’s back while he kept fucking me without mercy.

“Don’t start without me,” she said, in that rough just-awake voice of hers.

***

The smell of coffee and sex finished waking the house up. Rodrigo and Bruno appeared in the hallway, drawn by the noise and by the thick atmosphere already hanging in the air. My husband, despite being sixty-two, the moment he saw his naked daughter with that huge belly he got hard instantly. You could see it in his eyes before you could see it in his body.

Bruno stood for a moment leaning in the doorway, watching us with a half smile, his hair flattened on the side he’d slept on. There was no hurry in him. In this house no one is afraid of anything and no one covers themselves up: years ago we learned to want one another without asking permission or offering explanations, the way people share a table.

Iván slowly slipped out of me and left me trembling against the counter. I turned around, my heart still pounding, and saw my daughter crawl to the middle of the living room, onto the big rug, sweeping the cushions aside with a wave of her hand to make room. The morning sun fell right on her belly and lit it up as if it were the center of the house.

“Come on, family, today my body’s begging for some serious trouble,” Marina shouted, and she dropped onto the living room rug with her legs spread wide open, completely shameless.

That was when it really began. Rodrigo knelt between his daughter’s thighs and started devouring her with his tongue, gripping her thighs as if he were afraid she might slip away. Marina arched her back, let out a long moan and released a hot gush that splattered all of us nearby, and that, far from putting us off, turned us on even more.

Bruno, my eldest son, positioned himself behind his sister. He salivated the entrance from behind with two fingers and, slowly at first and then in one single thrust, shoved himself into her bent over the rug. Marina opened her mouth in a silent moan and reached for her father’s hand to squeeze it.

I didn’t stand there watching. I got down on all fours right in front of Bruno’s face, offering him my hanging breasts, while Iván took me from behind again, this time more slowly, savoring every inch. We were a tangle of flesh, sweat and broken breaths, all of us knotted together on the same rug.

Marina reached her father’s sex and took it into her mouth. While Bruno was pounding her from behind, she swallowed him whole, all the way to the back of her throat, not letting go even when her brother’s thrusts jolted her forward. Seeing her like that, split between the two men she loved most, took me to the brink of an orgasm I could barely hold back.

At one point, father and son switched places without needing to say a word. Bruno moved to the front and buried himself in her carefully because of the pregnancy, but without stopping his thrusts, while Rodrigo took her from behind with the patience that comes with age. Marina looked at both of them with glassy eyes, as if she still couldn’t quite believe her own luck.

The scene was overwhelming. My daughter began to scream, possessed by an orgasm that ran through her whole body, and once again she emptied herself in a stream that bathed her brother. Almost at the same time Iván and Rodrigo came, one inside my mouth and the other over Marina’s enormous belly, leaving her marked above the navel.

When it was over, we all ended up sprawled on the living room floor, panting, sweaty, sticky. My sixty-something body was still vibrating, with that tingling sensation only good pleasure gives. No one spoke. All you could hear were the breaths slowly settling.

Rodrigo was the first to move. He went over to his daughter and ran a big, gentle hand over her belly, checking that she was all right, the way any father would, even if a minute earlier he’d been inside her. Marina smiled at him and kissed his palm. There’s a strange tenderness in this family that would scandalize anyone else, but that only we fully understand.

Bruno got up to fetch water for everyone and handed it out in glasses around the living room, still naked, without the least embarrassment. Iván lay down beside me and brushed a lock of hair off my face with a tenderness that contrasted with the beast he’d been ten minutes earlier. I closed my eyes and let the sun dry my skin.

***

After the commotion, Marina and I slipped into the bathroom looking for a breather and some cold water. But as soon as I turned the lock, the tension between the two of us, the one that always burns underneath, erupted without warning.

My daughter, with that belly that makes her so insatiable, backed me into the sink. She grabbed my face with both hands and planted a brutal kiss on me, pushing her tongue deep inside, tasting me slowly, as if it were the first time she’d ever kissed me and she wanted to make it last.

“You’re the horniest one in the whole house, Mom,” she whispered against my lips. “You always have been.”

The heat of the bathroom and the excitement we were still carrying made Marina need to pee. She squatted on the tiles and, while rubbing her clit with two fingers, started letting out hot streams that soaked my legs and feet. It’s something that turns both of us on like crazy, one of those intimacies we only share with each other.

I crouched down behind her while she kept emptying herself and spread her ass cheeks with my hands. Without the slightest hesitation, I began licking her back entrance hungrily, losing myself in her smell and in the dampness that covered everything. Marina moaned and pushed her hips toward my face, asking for more.

The shower water was still falling beside us, filling the bathroom with steam, and the mirror was completely fogged over. I watched her moving against me through the mist, her huge, curved silhouette, and I thought I had never wanted her as much as during these months of pregnancy. I bit her hip softly, ran my tongue along the base of her spine, and felt her whole skin bristle beneath my mouth.

Then she turned around and took my place, pressing me against the cold shower wall. Despite my sixty-three years and my breasts already starting to sag, she always says I’m the woman who turns her on most in the world, and she says it in a way that makes me believe it.

“Mom, your cunt is so open a whole hand could fit in,” she told me in my ear, her voice thick.

She soaped up her right hand well under the lukewarm stream and, very slowly, first slipped in her fingers and then her closed fist. I felt her fill me completely, felt myself stretching as she closed her eyes, enjoying being inside the very body she once came out of. There was something dizzying and tender in that gesture, both at once.

With her arm in up to mid-wrist, she began moving it faster and faster. I clutched her shoulders, my legs shaking, until the two of us reached an orgasm that left us sliding against the wet tiles, strength gone, laughing between gasps.

We stayed under the water embracing for a long while, washing the traces off each other, sharing one last slow, heavy kiss. We knew tomorrow would begin again, that the whole house would light up once more as soon as the sun came up, and that none of us would want it any other way.