My Mother Got Tired of Our Nights of Philosophy

My mother Marisol always said having children had been the best decision of her life, but also the one that turned her into someone else. Before us, so she said, she was the girl who closed down clubs and got into strangers’ cars to go eat something at five in the morning. Then Lucía and I arrived, and all of that got filed away in a box of photos.

She was thirty-nine, with chestnut hair cut at jaw length and a body people looked at twice in the supermarket. She worked at a finance firm downtown, answering phones and filling out forms. She came home every day at seven in the evening with the same face: the face of someone bored at a level that hurt.

Lucía and I are twins. We turned eighteen four months ago. My sister is tall like my mother, with hips she inherited too, and a habit of underlining books with three different colors. I’m skinnier, almost scrawny, and since I was fourteen I’ve spent my afternoons reading whatever she passes me. Philosophy, geology, Roman history. That kind of thing.

That afternoon my mother got home earlier than usual. She tossed her handbag onto the sofa and took off her shoes in the middle of the living room.

—How was it, kids? —she asked, with that dragged-out voice of exhaustion.

—Good —I said, without looking up from an essay by Schopenhauer.

—We’re finishing a chapter on pessimism —Lucía added, marking with her finger the line where she’d left off.

My mother stood there in the middle of the room, looking at us as if we were two strange animals someone had left her to look after.

—Today I need to have some fun —she said. —Seriously. I can’t take another quiet night.

—We’re experts in fun —Lucía replied, smiling. —We’ll give you an entertaining night.

***

The first idea was group reading. My sister handed Marisol a manual on economic geography and marked chapter two for her. My mother held it in her hands as if it were an unpaid bill.

—Is this what you do for fun? —she asked.

—It’s very interesting —Lucía said. —It talks about Chilean copper.

She lasted twenty minutes. Then we suggested a documentary on the Pantanal fauna. Marisol settled into the sofa, crossed her legs, and held out for another fifteen. By the third scene of a caiman eating a capybara, she sighed so hard the curtain moved.

—Don’t you prefer something with action? —she asked.

—Quiet, Mom, the migration is about to start —my sister ordered.

The last attempt was a board game in the kitchen. Cards, tokens, a worn-out board. My mother rolled the dice three times and, on the fourth, sent them flying against the refrigerator.

—Enough —she said, standing up. —You don’t know how to have fun. And the blame, in part, is mine.

Lucía and I looked at each other, not understanding.

—Go to my room. Both of you. Now.

***

My mother’s room smelled of her perfume and the wood of the wardrobe. We never went in without permission. That night she came in behind us and locked the door. The key turned twice and she kept it in her hand.

—Take off your clothes —she said.

—What for? —I asked.

—You’ll understand. And don’t ask me scientific questions.

Lucía started taking off her sweater slowly, as if she expected someone to stop her. I pulled my pants down almost without thinking, more by inertia than by choice. Marisol was the first one to end up naked. She had a pink mark at her waist where her pants had pinched her all day, dark hard nipples from the cold air-conditioning, and between her thighs a trimmed triangle of chestnut hair, shining with moisture before anyone even touched her.

—What I’m going to do now is for your own good —she said. —I’m going to fuck both of you. So you finally learn what fun is.

Lucía opened her mouth to protest, but my mother didn’t give her time. She took hold of her neck with one hand, not roughly, and kissed her. I watched Marisol’s tongue go into my sister’s mouth, watched Lucía go still at first and then answer her, slowly, with a tongue that was clumsy at the beginning and then surer. My mother lowered her free hand and squeezed one of Lucía’s tits, weighed it in her palm, pinched the nipple between thumb and forefinger until my sister moaned into the kiss. When they pulled apart, Lucía’s lips were shining, her eyes wide as if she had just woken up from something, and a string of spit hung from one corner of her mouth.

—To bed —my mother ordered, and pushed her.

I took the chance to turn toward the door. I tried the handle. It was locked.

—Where do you think you’re going, young man?

I felt her hand on my neck, firm but not cruel, and then her mouth. My mother kissed like someone who had already kissed many people before her children. I thought about that while I kissed her back, not understanding why I was kissing her back. Her other hand went straight to my cock, grabbed it without preamble, and started jerking me with the steady pulse of someone who knows how to get a dick hard in ten seconds. She had me rock hard in her hand in less than that. She laughed against my mouth.

—Look at how big you are —she whispered. —And I thought you just read books.

She dragged me to the bed by my cock like it was a leash and I fell beside Lucía. The three of us were naked, the two siblings faceup, my mother kneeling over us, looking at us with a smile I had never seen on her before.

***

—This is fun —she said, and started.

She slid two fingers between Lucía’s legs, then three, and began moving them in and out with a slow rhythm while her thumb worked the clit in circles. With the other hand she grabbed my cock and started stroking me slowly up and down, squeezing the head every time she got to the top. My sister closed her eyes and arched her back all at once. You could hear perfectly the sloppy sound of my mother’s fingers going into Lucía’s wet cunt, a liquid, obscene noise filling the room. I didn’t know where to look. Lucía’s face changed, became someone else’s, mouth open, throat tense. My mother’s hand was warm and knew exactly how much to squeeze my cock and when to ease up.

—That’s what I used to do at your age —Marisol said, never stopping her hand or fingers. —Fun is this. The rest is just distractions.

—Actually, synonyms for fun are… —Lucía began, between gasps.

—Both of you shut up. I don’t want to hear any more books. I want to hear you moan.

She shoved all three fingers deep into my sister and Lucía screamed, a short, sharp scream, her hips lifting off the bed. My mother pulled her soaked fingers out and ran them over my mouth.

—Taste your sister. Learn the flavor.

I sucked them without thinking, salty and thick, with Lucía watching me from the side, eyes glassy.

Then she leaned over us and put one nipple in my sister’s mouth and the other in mine. I sucked without thinking, tongue flat at first, then with my lips, biting gently. Lucía did the same on the other side. I felt my mother’s breathing up above, ragged, and a warm little thread of spit dripped down onto Lucía’s breast.

***

Then she got up, turned around, and sat on our faces. I got her ass. Lucía got the cunt opened wide over her mouth. Her thighs were heavy and smelled of something thick, of a female in heat, something I had never smelled before. She pressed her ass cheeks against me and shoved her asshole straight into my mouth.

—Lick, Mateo. Right there. Tongue in. Don’t be shy.

I stuck out my tongue and licked her ass hole, feeling it pucker against me, and she gave a short, satisfied laugh. Next to me, Lucía was eating my mother’s cunt with her whole mouth, sucking her lips, sucking on her clit, and I heard the wet sounds an inch from my ear. Marisol rocked over our two mouths, swaying back and forth, rubbing herself against our tongues.

—I call this “the polisher” —she said between sighs. —I invented it in college. It was a hit.

I couldn’t see anything. I only felt my mother’s fleshy ass suffocating me and, beside me, my sister’s cheek brushing against me as we both ate her out. At one point she shoved her tongue so deep into my ass that she grabbed the back of my neck with her hand so I wouldn’t pull away. She came like that, grinding hard against Lucía’s face, with a long shiver that ran through her thighs. When she finally stood up, she had a red mark on each side of her ass and my chin was shining with spit.

—Now, the mouths —she said. —For something more useful than reciting encyclopedias. You in back, Mateo. You in front, Lucía.

—Mom… this is illegal —my sister muttered. —Incest is punishable.

—If we stop now, tomorrow I’m burning all your books. Starting with the expensive ones.

It wasn’t a convincing threat. It was an excuse Lucía accepted because she already wanted to accept it. Marisol got on all fours in the middle of the bed, ass raised and back dipped. Lucía settled in front and slowly licked her cunt from bottom to top, as if taking notes. She took the clit between her lips and sucked on it hungrily. My mother moaned and lowered her head. I knelt behind her, up against those two curves I only knew from seeing her come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel, and spread her ass cheeks with my hands. There it was: the little pink hole, tight, shiny. I ran my tongue along it, then in circles, then pointed it inward.

—Like that. Deeper, Mateo. Get it all the way in. Take your time, Lucía. It’s not an exam. Suck slowly, with your whole mouth.

I licked, spat, licked again, my nose buried between my own mother’s ass cheeks and not feeling shame about anything, and on the other side I heard Lucía eating Marisol’s cunt with sounds that seemed like someone drinking hot soup.

***

Then she made us switch places. I went in front. Lucía went behind. My sister’s face buried in my mother’s ass, me facing, for the first time, something I had imagined in silence and with guilt for years. There it was: the thick lips, swollen, shiny, the clit outside the hood like a pink little pearl. Marisol grabbed my hair with both hands and guided my mouth against her.

—There. With the tip of your tongue. Yes. Slower. Now suck. Suck me like your life depends on it.

I learned fast. It was one of the easiest things I had ever learned in my life. I sucked her clit until her legs went stiff, buried my tongue in her cunt to the root, and felt her warm juice leak all the way to my chin.

At some point, my mother and sister separated a little and intertwined their legs, scissor against scissor, and started rubbing cunt against cunt, wet against wet. You could hear every push of the hips, that wet slap of two sexes being pressed together. I sat on the edge of the bed and watched, hands at my sides, my cock so hard it was throbbing. I didn’t dare touch myself. My sister had her mouth open, nipples hard, and she was breathing as if she were running.

—If you want to touch yourself, touch yourself —Marisol said without looking at me, her voice broken. —I won’t judge you. It would be weird at this point.

—No —I said, almost voiceless. —I don’t want to follow an impulse like that.

—Come here.

And she guided my head herself. She opened my mouth with her fingers and put my cock into it. Well, first she put it into herself: she grabbed my cock and rammed it into her mouth, taking it down until I felt her throat tighten around the head. She sucked with hollowed cheeks, sliding up and down, her tongue working my frenulum, and with her free hand she squeezed my balls, weighing them as if measuring how much milk she was going to get from me. Lucía kept moving against my mother’s body while I disappeared in her mouth. It was all too much at once. I closed my eyes. I thought, for a second, about how absurd it was to be thinking about the chronological order of Schopenhauer while my mother sucked me down to the uvula.

When she pulled off me, she looked up at me from below, lips smeared with spit, and smiled.

—Don’t go yet. We’re missing the best part.

***

Later my mother lay on her back, spread her legs wide open, had me climb on top, and guided me inside with her hand. I felt the glans parting those hot, slippery lips, slipping in little by little, tight, until my balls hit her ass. I had imagined my first time many times, and none of those times looked like this: my own mother underneath me, setting the rhythm with her hands on my hips.

—Slow at first. Put it all in. All of it. Like that. Now push. Harder, Mateo, you’re not going to break me.

She moved beneath me with a calm that had nothing to do with her age and everything to do with her experience, closing her cunt around my cock every time I pulled back, squeezing me like a wet fist. My sister lay down beside us, legs open toward Marisol’s face, and my mother turned her head and started eating her cunt while I kept fucking her. I saw my mother’s tongue going in and out of Lucía’s sex, and Lucía biting her knuckles not to scream.

—I’m so turned on I’m not even thinking —Lucía said, voice cracked.

—Me neither —I said, pushing faster and faster, the sound of my balls hitting my mother’s wet skin.

—That’s what I wanted —Marisol said, pulling away from Lucía for a second, chin shining. —For you to stop thinking. Even if it’s just once.

We changed positions so many times I lost count. I put her on all fours and went in from behind, hands gripping her hips, watching her ass tremble with every thrust. Lucía lay underneath, faceup, and licked Marisol’s clit while I kept fucking her. At one point my mother asked me to come in another place. She pulled my cock out of her cunt, lay facedown, spread her cheeks with both hands, and showed me the other hole, already shiny with earlier spit.

—There. Slowly. Spit first.

I spat, pushed, and felt the tight ring give little by little around my cock. It was hotter, tighter, more closed than anything I had imagined. Lucía kissed her on the mouth while I moved slowly in her ass, and my mother squeezed her sphincter hard around me, and gave a little laugh between each thrust, face buried in my sister’s mouth.

—Come on —she said, after a long while, voice thick. —Let’s all finish together. Like a family that knows how to have a good time. Inside, Mateo. Come inside.

We all came. I don’t know in what order. My mother first, I think: her whole ass tightened around my cock and she let out a long cry with her mouth against Lucía’s. Lucía after that, writhing against the fingers my mother had shoved into her cunt, thighs trembling. Me at the end, emptying myself into that tight ass with three, four more thrusts, feeling the hot stream leave me and stay there inside. When I pulled out, my load ran down the crack of my mother’s ass and soaked her thighs. Lucía bent down without being asked and cleaned her with her tongue, swallowing what I had left there. Then I collapsed face-first against my sister’s back. We stayed like that, the three of us piled up, the bed a mess, smelling of semen and sweat and cunt, with the bedside lamp still on.

***

—Now that was fun —Marisol said, catching her breath. —The rest was a waste of time.

Lucía and I fell asleep instantly, as if someone had switched us off. My mother lay down between us. I dreamed of stray phrases from books I no longer understood.

The following week, Marisol came back into the house with the same tired face. She tossed her purse onto the sofa. Took off her shoes.

—How was it, kids? —she asked, not very hopefully.

—We have plans —Lucía said. —We’re starting with a chapter from the Kama Sutra. I marked three pages.

—Then a movie I downloaded this morning —I added. —It’s very well shot.

—And at the end, the three of us. We’re trying out what we read. We ordered toys from a site downtown. They arrive tomorrow.

My mother stood in the middle of the room. For the first time in a long time, she smiled as if she had won something.

—That —she said, hugging the two of us at the same time— does sound fun.