My Mother Chose Both of Us in the Kitchen

The morning after carried on in a strange rhythm, far too normal. My father ate breakfast whistling, handing out toast as if the night before had never happened. Camila came downstairs already dressed for the office, poured herself some coffee, and tousled my hair as she passed.

—See you later, little brother —she said, in that mocking tone she only used with me.

I still wasn’t sure how to face them. We had crossed a threshold during the night and no one seemed willing to mention it.

Mid-morning, my phone rang. It was Camila from her office, laughing before she even said hello.

—Nicolás told me what he wants.

—What is he thinking? —I asked, already worried.

—Relax. He wants to bring a friend to watch us.

—What?

—His friend is a voyeur, a professional voyeur. He gets off on watching and nothing else. —Camila was laughing with that rough laugh of hers—. He wants to watch us fucking.

—Watch who?

—You, my dear mother-in-law, and me. All three of us at the same time.

I hung up not knowing what to say. I set the phone on the table and sat there for a while staring at the ceiling, trying to sort my head out.

An hour later, my mother called me from the kitchen. Her voice had something odd in it, a lower tone than usual.

I went in and found her sitting at the table with a coffee in front of her. She was wearing a thin cotton dress, no bra. Everything showed.

—What’s wrong, mommy? —I asked when I saw her serious expression.

—Iván didn’t come last night.

My mouth went dry all at once. The night before, we had pretended that a friend of my father’s, Iván, had come over and slept with her. It was the alibi my father and I had invented to justify what had in fact been a threesome among the three of us.

—What do you mean?

She let out a short laugh.

—That I’m not as stupid as you think. I know perfectly well you both fucked me. Your father and you.

I must have looked obviously panicked, because she went on at once.

—But I enjoyed it. I liked having two men at once. Your story about the earplugs was pretty unbelievable, darling. I heard everything you said. Even the story you told your father about that night when I almost got raped. I was nearly dying of laughter inside.

—Mom, I…

—Shut up. —She put a finger to my lips without getting up from the chair—. I already talked to your father this morning. We made peace.

—Made peace? —I repeated, not sure what she meant exactly.

—We reached an agreement.

She got up, took two steps toward me, and grabbed me by the waistband of my pajama pants. As slowly as only a decision already made can be.

—We’re going to keep going as before, the four of us. Your father with Camila. Me with you.

—Mom, do you know what you’re saying?

—I know perfectly well. Your father likes Camila, and I like you. There’s not a single reason why we should keep pretending.

I lowered my gaze. I couldn’t answer her. Maybe because, deep down, I had spent months wanting to hear exactly that sentence.

—And one more thing —she added, now with that half-smile that had settled on her mouth—. We’re not going to hide. If your father wants to watch, let him watch. If we’re all home, same thing. No more schedules.

She kissed me on the mouth before I could answer. A long, open kiss, her tongue sliding in slowly. Her hand was already inside my pants.

—Mom…

—Shhh.

I had no way of winning this conversation. And I didn’t want to win it.

She pushed me back until I was sitting on the edge of the kitchen table. She yanked down my pajamas and knelt on the cold tiled floor. The window light lit up half her face, and I could see a strand of hair stuck to the sweat at her temple.

She took me into her mouth without warning. All of it, to the root. I gripped the edge of the table with both hands.

As she sucked me, she kept looking toward the door. Not to keep watch, but the opposite. She wanted someone to walk in. She wanted my father to see her kneeling there with his son’s cock in her mouth.

—Lift your legs, darling —she asked, hoarse.

I leaned back and brought my knees up to my shoulders. I lay open on the table, exposed. She smiled with that mischievous grin she only ever gave me and slowly lowered her tongue, licking from the testicles downward. When she reached the rim, she stopped, looked at me again, and closed her lips around the hole, sucking as if she wanted to swallow it whole.

—Fuck, mommy.

—Quiet, baby. Let me.

She ran her tongue over it several times, pressing, trying to get in. I didn’t dare speak. My eyes were closed when I heard the door move.

My father was in the doorway. I sat up a little on instinct, but he raised a hand to tell me to stay as I was.

He came up behind her, without my mother noticing. He slid his hands under her arms and tugged her dress down, exposing her breasts. He squeezed them hard.

—You’re such a slut, my love.

My mother stopped for a second. She turned her head, kissed him on the mouth with the same tongue she had just used to eat my ass. I saw it all from my ridiculous position on the table.

—Even if you’re still my husband —she told my father, pulling back a little to speak to his face—, I’m my son’s slut. I want that to be perfectly clear from now on.

My father nodded without saying anything. He pushed her forward, made her place her palms on the floor, and lifted her dress up over her back. He took out his cock and dragged it across her ass cheeks a couple of times, making clear what came next.

—You keep sucking your son off —he ordered her—. I’m going to wreck your ass, slut.

My mother let out a rough laugh. She lifted her ass toward him, without hiding it, offering it to him. She rocked it slowly, with a shamelessness I had never seen from her with my father.

And then I felt a change in myself I hadn’t expected. Seeing him behind her, about to penetrate her, put me in a foul mood. Jealous. As if he were the one cheating on me with my wife and not the other way around.

I got down from the table, stood in front of her face, and slapped my cock against her cheek.

—Suck it. Come on.

My father pushed from behind and started to enter her slowly. My mother let out a long moan and her head fell against my pelvis. She opened her mouth by instinct and I shoved it in all the way.

We both started fucking her at the same time, him from behind, me from the front. Every thrust of his sent her into me. Every thrust of mine made her throw her head back. It was a stupid and perfect mechanism.

—I’m going to wreck your ass, slut —he repeated.

He slapped her so hard my mother lost her balance and fell forward. She held herself up with difficulty, grabbed my cock again with her hand, and took it back into her mouth, now sucking only the head with her lips pressed tight.

—Mom…

—I’m your slut, darling —she told me between licks, looking up at me from below—. Your slut, hear me?

I grabbed her by the hair and shoved into her. I jammed the head all the way to the uvula. She choked for a second, then relaxed, and then there was no way to stop anything.

—What a mouth you’ve got, bitch.

My father rammed into her again, harder now. Smack, smack, smack. The kitchen filled with a sharp sound, palm against flesh, while she writhed between the two of us. Every time he came down with a slap, she trembled as if the pain gave her direct pleasure.

—Fuck me, you cuckold! —she suddenly shouted, turning her head.

My father’s gaze darkened for a moment. He landed another slap, this one leaving the mark of his five fingers on her white ass cheek. But he didn’t stop. He took the insult, chewed it, and gave it back in the form of a thrust.

—Slut.

I kept hitting her mouth with my cock. Every time she let go to catch her breath, I shoved it back in. Every time he pushed hard, she let it go.

—Ruin my ass, my love.

My father leaned over her and kissed her on the mouth, still buried inside her. I couldn’t believe it. His tongue was on his wife’s tongue at the same time his wife was sucking me. And yet, that was how it was.

I bent down a little, slid my hands underneath, and grabbed her hanging breasts, twisting her nipples the way I had done a thousand times before, when he wasn’t there. She moaned into his mouth.

I pulled her hair to break the kiss and struck my own face with my cock.

—Suck. Slut.

—Your slut, my love, your slut. —She took it back in and kept sucking without stopping—. Even if the cuckold is fucking me, I’m your slut for life.

My father thrust again, now his face flushed red. Not from the effort, but from the word. I looked at him. I knew exactly what he was feeling and I knew he could do nothing about it. That his son was fucking his wife’s mouth in front of his face was exactly what he had agreed to that same morning.

He slapped her again.

—Slut.

My mother shrank, snorted, lifted her ass higher.

—Fuck each other’s cocks! —she begged, breathless, barely able to breathe—. The both of you, fuck each other’s cocks.

My father pushed and I pushed. The synchronicity lasted only a few seconds, but it was enough for her to start trembling. Her thighs were vibrating. Saliva was dripping down her chin.

Glogg, glogg, glogg. The sound her mouth made swallowing my cock was driving my father insane. I could see him watching the scene as if hypnotized, not stopping to penetrate her, but mainly fixated on the noise coming out of his wife’s mouth.

—Suck, slut —he ordered—. Make your son cum.

My mother, instead of obeying him, pulled back for a second, looked up at me, and asked:

—Open them a little wider, darling.

I spread my legs. Her tongue slid up the inner thigh and found my hole again. This time she didn’t just lick it. Without warning, she slid a finger in.

—Mom, fuck…

—Cum, baby.

She started fingering my ass while sucking my head with her mouth, all at once. My father, meanwhile, slowed his pace and watched us as if he were the voyeur, not Nicolás’s friend.

—Cum already, darling. Cum in my mouth.

I felt the end coming. I grabbed her head with both hands, she shook my cock two more times, and I spilled everything inside her. I felt the thick stream leaving between her tight lips, leaking from the corners of her mouth.

—Swallow, slut, swallow —my father shouted from behind, almost beside himself.

My mother swallowed. She swallowed almost all of it and then, in a gesture only she could have come up with, opened her mouth and turned her face to show my father what was still left on her tongue.

—Look, cuckold. Look what your son gives me.

And she went back to sucking me, gathering what was still dripping down the shaft, licking with the tip as if she didn’t want to lose a single drop.

—Your slut, my love —she repeated, looking at me with the most cynical smile I had seen from her in years—. Your slut. I’ll suck you whenever you want.

I grabbed her by the hair and kissed her on the lips. I slid my tongue into her mouth and mixed my own cum with her saliva without disgust. Behind her, my father was still driven inside her, waiting his turn.

—Go on, Dad —I told him, already getting up from the table—. Fuck her hard. Rape her ass if you feel like it.

***

I was about to leave the kitchen when I heard him thrusting like a bull. My mother fell forward from the impact, braced herself on her forearms, and looked at me from the floor. She was smiling. She was smiling at me, not at him.

I went out, closed the door, and sat down on the living room sofa. I turned on the TV and lowered the volume to the minimum, not so I wouldn’t hear them, but so I could hear them without it being obvious.

When they were done, much later, they came out of the kitchen together. They were holding hands, disheveled, looking at each other as if they had known each other for two weeks. They walked past me without seeing me, or pretending not to see me.

I stayed staring at the dark screen, trying to understand why, after all that, the only thing I felt was a strange calm. As if, at last, everything was exactly where it was supposed to be, even if that place was the worst possible place.