My Son Confessed He Spied on Me All Night

It was a Sunday afternoon and the house was weighed down by that heavy silence hangovers leave behind. I walked into Mateo’s room without knocking, my hair still damp from the shower and wearing a thin robe that barely covered my thighs. I locked the door behind me. He was sprawled on the bed, playing with his phone, and he looked up with that little-boy face he’d long outgrown at twenty.

—We need to talk. Now —I said, folding my arms over my chest.

—What’s wrong, Mom? Are you okay?

I took a deep breath before saying it. I’d been rehearsing all morning how to say it, and when the moment came, it just came out all at once.

—Lorena called me. She told me what happened with you on Saturday, after those guys left. She told me what you did with her. I want you to tell me yourself. And don’t you dare lie to me.

Mateo sat up slowly. His face flushed, he dropped his eyes for a second, and when he looked back up there was something different in them. Resolve.

—It’s true —he said—. What Lorena told you happened. But that’s not all, Mom. That night I was home. I saw everything.

I felt the floor move under me. I took a step toward the bed, and my robe opened a little at the neckline without me meaning to.

—What do you mean, you saw everything? Were you spying?

—I was behind the curtain in the living room. I saw them arrive with those two guys. I saw how it ended up on the couch, with you and Lorena. And then, when you went into the bathroom with the taller one… I saw that too.

***

I sat on the edge of the bed because my legs wouldn’t hold me. I had my hands on my knees and they were shaking, and I hated that they were shaking.

—Tell me what you saw —I said, and even I didn’t understand why I wanted to know—. Everything. Don’t hide anything from me.

Mateo swallowed. He spoke quietly, almost without raising his voice, and that made it worse.

—The guy grabbed your hair in the bathroom. He put you on your knees. He was saying things to you, talking dirty to you, and you didn’t mind. He slapped you twice and then turned you around against the wall. You were crying and at the same time begging him not to stop. I was in the hallway, watching through the crack in the door. I couldn’t move.

I covered my face with my hands. Heat surged up my neck like I had a fever.

—My God, Mateo… it was you. Lorena told me someone had watched, but I thought she’d imagined it. That night I was so drunk, so turned on… I never thought my own son…

There was a long silence. When I spoke again, my voice came out rougher than I wanted.

—And you. What did you do while you watched? Tell me.

He didn’t hesitate.

—I jerked off all night, Mom. Especially in the bathroom. Watching you like that, giving in, crying and asking for more… I’ve never gotten that hard in my life. Then Lorena came looking for me because she knew I’d seen everything. She told me next time she wanted it to be me.

I bit my lip. My robe had opened a little more and I didn’t do anything to close it. I was breathing fast and I knew it.

—This is insane —I said—. I’m your mother. We shouldn’t be talking about this. But keep going. I need to understand what went through your head.

***

Mateo got bolder. He sat up straighter and looked me right in the face.

—Have you always been like this, Mom? Have you always liked being treated that way? Because that night you were enjoying yourself. It showed.

I sighed. I shifted on the bed and, almost without realizing it, let the robe fall to my waist. If he’s going to know everything, let him know, I thought, and it scared me to think it.

—Since I was young, yes —I admitted—. Before I married your father, I was already doing my own thing. At eighteen I liked going out, ending up at parties that never ended. After I separated, I went back to how I’d been before. Lorena and I go out together, do things together. It’s not the first time I’ve ended up like that, and it won’t be the last. Saturday wasn’t strange for me. What’s strange is that you were on the other side of the door.

Mateo listened to me with his eyes wide open. I saw the outline of his erection under his shorts and I didn’t look away.

—And you like being insulted? Being made to cry?

—It turns me on —I said, and the word burned in my mouth—. When they yank my hair, when they talk dirty to me, when they make me feel used. That night that guy made me feel like the dirtiest woman in the world and I loved it. But now knowing you saw it… I’m embarrassed and turned on at the same time, and I shouldn’t be saying that to you.

I stopped. I pulled the robe closed a little, as if that gesture could fix anything.

—No, Mateo. This is wrong. I’m your mother. We can’t keep going.

But he moved a little closer on the bed.

—I’ve got things to tell you too, Mom. For a long time I’ve been touching myself thinking about you. About the way you walk, your body, how your clothes fit when you go out. When you went out at night I imagined what you were doing. Saturday was like seeing for real what I’d been imagining for years.

I stood up and walked to the window. The robe floated with the movement and showed more than it should have.

—Stop. This is dangerous. Sometimes, when I touch myself alone, I think things I shouldn’t too. But you’re my son. We can’t.

I sat back down, closer this time. My leg brushed his and neither of us moved away.

—Tell me something else from the past —I said softly—. Did I ever almost catch you?

—Once I saw you through the bathroom crack when you were showering —he said—. You were touching yourself thinking you were alone. I watched until the end. Another time, when I was younger, I heard you with some guy in your room. You were saying things. I stayed on the other side of the door.

I closed my eyes. One of my hands went on its own to my thigh and I left it there.

—Oh, Mateo… I had no idea you’d seen so much. That turns me on… no, I can’t say that. I’m your mother, damn it. We need to stop this right now.

***

But neither of us moved. The air in the room had turned thick, impossible to breathe. My cheeks were burning and my nipples stood out against the fabric. He had his erection out in the open, not even trying to hide it.

—Look at me —he said, pointing to himself—. Talking about this got me like this. And you’re hot too, Mom. It shows.

I covered my chest with my hands.

—No, Mateo. This can’t happen. Even if talking about it turns me on, you’re my son. Get up and we’ll forget this conversation.

I stood again, but my legs were shaking. I took two steps toward the door and stopped. I turned back.

—Tell me one more thing. When Lorena was with you… were you thinking about me?

—Yes —he answered, without a filter—. I’d close my eyes and think about you. I came imagining it was you.

A moan slipped out of me that I couldn’t control. I clamped my legs together.

—God… this is too much. I’m leaving.

But I didn’t move. I stayed there, breathing hard, with the robe completely open in front. Leave already, I told myself, and my feet didn’t obey.

—Mateo… don’t look at me like that. This is wrong. Very wrong.

***

He stood up. He came toward me slowly, like someone approaching something that could break.

—I know you want it, Mom. Let me touch you. Just once.

I backed up and hit the wall.

—No… we can’t. I’m your mother. This is incest. Stop, please.

He put a hand on my waist, over the open robe.

—Tell me you’re not turned on. Say it and I’ll stop.

I was trembling. I closed my eyes.

—I don’t want to… or maybe I do… I don’t know. I can’t decide.

When he finished opening my robe and took one breast in his hand, squeezing it just slightly, a long moan escaped from deep inside me.

—Oh, son… don’t do that… but don’t stop.

He leaned down and closed his mouth over my nipple. I arched my back against the wall.

—Stop… this can’t be… I’m your mom… oh, harder.

My resistance was falling apart. He led me to the bed with one hand on my back and I let myself fall onto it, on my back, the robe open all the way.

—Mateo, for the last time… let’s not do this. We can still stop.

But I had already spread my legs. He ran two fingers through my soaked slit.

—You’re soaked, Mom. Don’t tell me you don’t want this.

I was crying from arousal and guilt at the same time, the two things blended together without any difference.

—Yes… no… I don’t know. But put them in me… just that… then we’ll stop.

He slipped his fingers inside me while sucking on my other breast. I started moaning without restraint.

—Deeper… oh, son… this is so wrong and I don’t care.

He took off his shorts. I stared at him, breathing in broken gasps, and I knew there was no going back now.

—Tell me to stop, Mom. Tell me you don’t want your son to fuck you.

With tears still in my eyes and my voice broken, I whispered what no mother should ever whisper.

—Don’t stop. Fuck me, Mateo. Like they fucked me on Saturday. I’m yours now.

He pushed in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until he was all the way inside. I let out a cry in which pleasure and pain were the same thing.

—Like that… fill me up, son… harder.

He started moving in a rhythm that kept growing. I dug my nails into his back, moving my hips to take him deeper. He talked dirty to me, his mouth pressed to my ear, and every word drove me further under.

—You’re my filthy mother. I saw you give in on Saturday and now you’re giving yourself to me.

—I like it… I love it… I’m yours… but we’ll regret it later… don’t stop now.

He turned me over and put me on my knees on the bed, just like I’d seen the other guy do. He slapped me hard twice and shoved his cock all the way in.

—Take it, Mom. All of it.

I cried with pleasure, like in the bathroom that night, but now it was my son making me cry.

—Like that… do it… I’m coming… I’m coming!

I came trembling, squeezing him all the way. He didn’t stop. He turned me over again, lifted me onto him, and kept going.

—Now I’m going to fill you up, Mom. Tell me you want it.

Exhausted, still coming down from my orgasm, I could do nothing but give in.

—Fill me… give me everything… I’m your filthy mother… fuck me whenever you want.

He finished inside me with a growl. I felt every pulse and came again, harder than the first time. We stayed wrapped around each other, drenched in sweat, breathing like we’d just run a race. I stroked his hair with a tenderness that made me feel more guilty than everything else.

—This can’t happen again —I said—. But I know it will. We’re a mess, Mateo.

He smiled and kissed my forehead.

—Whenever you want, Mom.

***

A few days passed when we barely spoke to each other, as if silence could undo what had been done. It didn’t. One afternoon I was washing dishes, my back to the door, and I heard him come into the kitchen. Before I could turn around, he was already pressed against my back, his hands on my hips, pinning me against the counter.

—Mateo, what are you doing? —I whispered, and surprise and desire came out in the same word.

He didn’t answer. He lifted my skirt and yanked down my underwear in one quick pull. I didn’t resist; my body was trembling with anticipation. He spread me open and, without warning, entered me from behind in one single thrust.

A muffled scream escaped me. The pain was intense and immediately mixed with a forbidden pleasure that ran through my whole body. He had no mercy. He fucked me with a brutality I hadn’t known from him, sinking deeper with every thrust while my hips slammed against the edge of the counter and he held me by the shoulders.

—Harder! —I begged him, lost between the pain and the need.

He obeyed until he felt me clench around him. He finished inside me with a roar, filling me completely. We stayed like that for a moment, panting, sweat dripping. When he pulled away, I collapsed against the counter, shaking and sore. He adjusted his clothes and walked out of the kitchen without saying a word, leaving me alone.

With trembling hands I picked up the phone and dialed Lorena’s number.

—Hi, Lorena… —I said, my voice breaking.

—What’s wrong? You sound weird.

—I have to tell you something. Mateo… Mateo did it again. In the kitchen.

—What?! —she exclaimed.

—He fucked me so hard —I confessed, caught between pain and something that wasn’t pain—. I’m falling apart. But it was incredible.

Lorena listened in silence, not knowing what to say. I had just told her the darkest, most exciting secret of my life.

—Are you okay? —she asked at last—. Do you want me to come over?

—No, I’m fine, I think. It’s just that he’d never done me like that. So rough. I felt like he was splitting me open inside, and at the same time I didn’t want him to stop.

I heard her swallow on the other end. I knew the scene was turning her on more than she was willing to admit.

—And how do you feel now? —she asked, her voice a little shaky.

—Sore —I said—. It burns. I feel used, opened up… but alive too. I’d never felt anything so intense, Lorena.

I heard noise in the back of the house. Mateo was coming back.

—I have to hang up. Call me later, please.

—Okay, take care.

Mateo came in with a glass of water and handed it to me. I was still leaning on the counter, too weak to move.

—Here, Mom. You’re going to need it.

I looked up, eyes red, and took the glass with trembling hands.

—Why so rough? —I asked, my voice hoarse—. Why didn’t you show any mercy?

He smiled, and there was nothing left in that smile of the boy he used to be.

—Because I know that’s what you like. And I’m the only one who can give it to you like that.

I lowered my eyes, caught between shame and desire. I knew he was right. He came closer and stroked my hair, and I let him.

—You left me completely wrecked —I murmured—. Tomorrow I won’t even be able to walk.

I paused, studying him with a mix of awe and surrender.

—You’re a man now, Mateo. A real man. I’d never felt anything like this before.

He smiled with pride. His hand moved from my hair to my cheek and he squeezed it lightly, like someone marking what was his. And I already knew, while I held that glass of water in the kitchen, that we were never going to close that door again.