My pious aunt cleaned my house until that morning

I was twenty-six, had money to burn, and no desire to work. I had dropped out of law school halfway through and spent my afternoons sprawled on the sofa, switching channels and women with the same ease. That drove my father crazy.

One night he sat down across from me and turned off the television.

—You can’t keep going on like this, Bruno —he said—. Either you stop chasing every skirt in sight and get a job, or you find another roof.

—You don’t like the way I am, do you?

—What I don’t like is that you’re a lazy bum.

It had been less than a year since my mother died, and he was lost, bitter, looking for somewhere to dump his rage. I was tired of being his punching bag.

—I’ll be gone by tomorrow —I told him.

And I was. I traded the villa with the pool for the old two-story house my grandparents had left me in the village. With my mother’s inheritance I had enough to live comfortably for the rest of my days, so he offered me exactly that: a life with no work, in a place where gentlemen are treated well.

I had breakfast, lunch, and dinner at the only decent tavern in the village, my Uncle Damián’s: a big, dark-skinned, barrel-bellied man who, besides being the tavern owner, was also a pig castrator. It was run by my cousin Noelia, a twenty-year-old girl with dark hair, tawny skin, and black eyes, with a body no one could overlook.

My house was cleaned by my Aunt Marisol, my mother’s sister. Forty-four years old, built like a brick shithouse, with big tits and a great ass, and black hair always pulled back into a tight bun. She was the village’s official holy roller: daily mass, rosary at night, and “may God forgive you” always at the tip of her tongue.

The first day she came to clean, I found her sweeping the living room.

—Why do you come yourself, Aunt? You could send another woman from the village.

—Since they opened the other tavern, ours has been going downhill —she sighed—. The ones who used to buy from us on credit ran off without paying. Your uncle works from eight in the morning until two in the morning and we still can’t make ends meet. God squeezes, but He doesn’t choke us.

—That must be discouraging.

—It is. Very.

That phrase, “we can’t make ends meet,” kept turning over in my head. And the next morning, when Marisol came into my room to wake me up, I already had a plan.

—Up, you layabout! —she said from the doorway.

—Pick up the envelope on the nightstand, Aunt.

She opened it. Inside was far more money than she earned cleaning in a month.

—You didn’t need to pay me in advance. And all this?

I got out of bed naked, not hiding a thing.

—You have to earn this.

She put a hand to her chest, scandalized.

—You’re the devil, come to tempt me!

I went closer. She backed up until her shoulders hit the wall.

—I’m the one who’s going to get you out of trouble, if you want the money.

—I’m your aunt!

—I know that already. Tell me something new.

I put my hands on her ass, pulled her against me, and kissed her with tongue. She made a disgusted face, but she didn’t push me away.

—You’re a pig.

—Think about the money. Think about Damián, fourteen hours a day. How much longer before he picks up the shotgun?

That last line softened her more than any caress could have.

—Don’t put fear in my body.

—I want to put something else in your body —I said, kissing her neck while I untied her apron.

—Only my husband has ever been inside my body.

—Then it’s about time someone else got in there.

She tried to give the envelope back to me. I told her she could keep the vegetable patch by the well too. I swore she wouldn’t need to cuckold her husband, that there were ways. That word, ways, sparked a curiosity in her that the rosary had been putting out for twenty years.

—And how, without putting it in? —she asked, already in a lower voice.

—Like this.

I took off her dress. She was left in a bra, panties, stockings, and black shoes, all in the style of an anticipatory widow. I slipped my hand into her panties and sank two fingers inside her. She was soaked, much more than her mouth would ever admit. I kissed her while I worked my hand, and within minutes her knees were buckling.

—I don’t want to come, I don’t want to... —she kept repeating as she came.

I picked her up before she could collapse and laid her on the bed.

—And now what? —she panted.

—Now comes the good part.

I loosened her bun. Her black hair fell over her shoulders and, all at once, she no longer looked like the village holy woman, but like a forty-four-year-old woman no one had looked at properly in far too long. I took off her bra and licked her big, heavy tits, her thick nipples, until she arched her back. I pulled down her wet panties and lowered my mouth between her legs.

—Don’t be disgusting! Only dogs do that.

—Then I’ll be your dog.

I ate her cunt slowly, then without mercy, until she came again, gripping my hair and calling me an animal. When she stopped trembling, I sat up.

—Your turn.

—My turn for what?

—To return the favor.

She looked at me as if I’d asked for blasphemy. Then she looked at my cock, hard, waiting for her.

—You’re naked on the bed of a man who isn’t your husband —I told her—. Tell me you’ve never thought about it.

Marisol didn’t know how to lie. That was her downfall and my luck.

—And if I did? —she murmured.

She pulled me in, or maybe I let myself fall, I don’t remember anymore. I closed myself over her and drove it all the way in at once.

—You said no putting it in!

—I lied. You lie too.

I fucked her slowly, inch by inch, until she stopped protesting and started reaching for me. I got on top of her, asked her to move, to let me see her with her hair down. At first she didn’t know how; then her hips found the rhythm on their own and her tits bounced against my face while she came a third time, soaking me with juices.

When it was all over, she lay on her side, staring at the ceiling.

—That was the best fuck of my life —she admitted.

—We can do it again another day.

—No. Better to be halfway decent than a lost whore.

She took the envelope, got dressed, and went downstairs to pray. But I knew something inside her had broken forever, and that the patch by the well was the least of my victories.

***

With the mother crossed off my list, I set my sights on the daughter.

One afternoon, while having coffee in the tavern, I casually asked Noelia to go to the movies with me on Saturday. She gave me a sidelong, suspicious look.

—I have a boyfriend.

—Sorry, I didn’t know.

—I’m keeping it secret.

She left me hanging and went to serve another table. I didn’t have time to chew on the snub because Damián appeared, looking shaken.

—Marisol burned her leg with the oil. Can you take her to the city hospital?

My car was an old Land Rover parked in front of the house. My aunt got in, hurt and roughly bandaged, and Noelia, silent, in the back seat. At the hospital, they decided to keep Marisol in for a few days. Noelia and I were left alone in the waiting room, and from there we went back to the village together.

—I’m sorry about the tavern —she said, looking at the road.

—Don’t be sorry. Though I’ll admit I did feel like an idiot.

—Yeah, you did —she smiled, and the smile lit up her whole face.

—You have a beautiful smile.

—You’re a flatterer.

We kept needling each other mile after mile. I asked about her secret boyfriend and she told me he was “an angel,” a sweet guy who said nice things to her. I told her an angel would never show her what was truly beautiful. She blushed and started tugging at her dress even though it hadn’t ridden up at all.

—You’re making me uncomfortable —she warned.

—You’re the first woman I’ve ever made uncomfortable. I make women dream.

—And how do you make them dream, according to you?

—By licking their cunt. Starting with the toes and working my way up.

—You’re sick! —But she didn’t tell me to shut up.

—Stop, or I’m getting out of the car —she said after a while, undoing her seatbelt.

—Getting out of what, your panties?

She reached for the door handle.

—I’ll jump, you know!

I didn’t believe her and kept prodding her. Fed up, she grabbed my hair and yanked with all her strength until I slammed on the brakes at the shoulder.

—The little innocent one has a nasty temper —I said.

And I kissed her with tongue, leaving her speechless. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, equally indignant and trembling.

—You stuck your tongue in my mouth, you pig!

—That’s how city men kiss.

—My father castrates men like you.

—Then I’ve really put my foot in it. What a blunder.

There was a silence and, all of a sudden, Noelia burst out laughing.

—That funny to you? —I asked.

—You call that a blunder? You went downhill on a bike with no brakes and smashed right into a wall.

—Don’t rub it in.

—You came looking for melons and ended up with pumpkins.

We argued, laughing all the way back. When we got into the village, I asked her to find someone to clean my house while her mother recovered.

—Don’t worry about that —she said, and there was something hidden in her tone that I couldn’t read then.

***

The next morning she opened my house with her mother’s key. She went upstairs, saw a closed door, and, assuming it was the storage room, opened it. She found me in bed, wearing a green work smock over my clothes.

—What the hell, you’re the one cleaning?!

—I need the money for my own things —she shot back sharply.

—Since you’re not serving me breakfast at the tavern today, you could make it here. I’ve got eggs and chorizo.

—And where do you have them?

I pulled back the sheet. I was sleeping naked.

—Right here.

She covered her eyes with her hands.

—Shameless!

I got up, grabbed her by the arm, and tossed her onto the bed. She struggled, more for the script than from conviction.

—Are you going to force me?

—Won’t be necessary —I told her, holding her wrists—. After yesterday’s talk, you came here for exactly this.

—I came here to work.

—You came here to have me eat you whole. Or is lying not a sin?

—Yes, but a venial one —she whispered, and stopped struggling.

That was surrender, plain and simple. I kissed her and started unbuttoning her smock.

—I feel so vulnerable...

—That’s a good thing.

I pulled off her blouse and bra. Her tits were firm, high, with small nipples that hardened the moment I brushed them with my tongue. I took off her skirt, panties, stockings. Then I did what I’d promised her in the car: I took one foot, sucked her big toe, and then separated the others one by one, licking her instep and ankle.

—Aren’t you going to suck it for me too? —she asked, her voice already shaky.

—Shut up and enjoy it.

I kissed my way up the inside of her thighs to her cunt. I saw a drop shining between her lips. I kissed her clit, turned her face down, spread her ass cheeks, and kissed her where no one had ever kissed her before. When I tried to slip a finger inside, it wouldn’t go: she was impossibly tight.

—Who exactly is your boyfriend, Thumbelina? —I teased.

—He’s certainly not a bootlicker like you —she shot back, alert again.

I turned her onto her back and ate her cunt like you’d lick a melting ice cream, nonstop, until she convulsed all over.

—I’m coming, I’m coming! —she moaned, writhing against the sheets.

Her face was crimson and her eyes glassy. I gave her a soft kiss on the lips.

—Do you want me to take your virginity, or are you saving that for your boyfriend?

—I don’t have a boyfriend —she confessed—. It was a shield against you.

—Of course. And since lying is venial, keep lying to Bruno.

—Shut up and kiss me.

I kissed her, devoured her tits, and went back down. With my tongue and then my middle finger I slowly opened the way for her, with a sweet in-and-out motion that brought her to another orgasm. When I asked if she had ever done it with a finger on her own, she laughed.

—I’m not a saint.

—Good to know. Now I’m going to fuck you.

—I’m scared. Is it going to hurt?

—A little. But less, because I’ve prepared you well.

I rubbed my cock from her cunt up to her clit, slipping in only the tip each time I moved up and down. Noelia got hotter and hotter until, just as she started to come again, I pushed and slid the head inside her. The mix of pleasure and pain shook her so hard she went speechless.

—That’s it, I’m yours now —she panted once the worst of it had passed—. But pull it out, in case you come inside and then my father really will find out.

I pulled out, put it between her tits, pressed them together, and wanked myself with them until I got close to the edge.

—Want to learn how to suck it?

—I already know. You taught me when you were sucking my toes. Though, if I could choose, I’d rather you put it back inside me.

She sucked it anyway, slowly, looking at me, while she fingered herself. Then I put her on all fours and went back into her cunt, now easier, until I emptied myself inside her without pulling out in time.

—You came inside me! —she protested afterward.

—Calculation error.

That calculation error was something she told the priest in confession. And that calculation error, would you believe it, ended in a wedding, first cousins and all, to the astonishment of half the village. My Uncle Damián, the castrator, never suspected a thing. And I learned that in small towns the pious pray by day and sin by night, and that the castrating knife is intimidating enough to teach a man, at last, how to stay still.