My Son’s Girlfriend Opened the Door to Everything

My name is Ricardo. I’ve just turned fifty, and I’ve been married to Marisol for more than a quarter of a century. We live in a two-story house on the outskirts of Valencia, with a garden we tend on weekends and two children who are our pride and joy: Joaquín, twenty-three, and Lucía, who has just turned eighteen.

Joaquín moved to Madrid as soon as he found his first job at a law firm. He shares a flat with two former classmates, and although things are going well for him, his mother still sends him Tupperware every Sunday. Some habits don’t break, even when children grow up.

One morning at the end of March, while we were having breakfast, he called us on a video call to announce that he had a new girlfriend and that he planned to bring her home that Friday.

—Her name’s Vanessa, Dad. She’s from Bilbao. She works with me.

—Is she your age? —Marisol asked, already planning the menu.

—Not exactly. She’s twenty-nine.

My wife raised an eyebrow and said what I was thinking.

—Well, we’ll talk when they get here.

We assumed it would be temporary. At twenty-three, age differences are usually a matter of months. But I was wrong the moment I saw her get out of the car.

Vanessa was a tall blonde with gray eyes and legs so long they seemed never to end. She was wearing a navy-blue dress, short and fitted at the waist, and strappy sandals that left her well-kept feet on display, the toenails painted a dark red. I couldn’t help my gaze from lingering longer than it should have on them. Feet had always been my weakness, and Marisol knew it better than anyone.

—Ricardo, nice to meet you —she said, offering me her cheek. She smelled citrusy, fresh, expensive.

***

Dinner went on past midnight. Vanessa talked to us about her work, about the firm where Joaquín was her subordinate, and about the plans they had together. My son looked at her with devotion. My wife nodded, fascinated. And Lucía, my daughter, watched Vanessa with a mixture of admiration and rivalry that wasn’t very obvious to others, but it was to me.

—I study law too —Lucía blurted out when dessert was on the table—. Though I don’t think I’ll get as far as you two.

—You’ll go further —Vanessa replied without blinking—. You look like someone who never gives up.

Lucía smiled in a way I had never seen before. It was the smile of someone accepting a challenge no one had spoken aloud.

After the coffees, my daughter went up to her room and came back down a while later in short pajamas with thin straps that left very little to the imagination. Marisol looked at her disapprovingly, but said nothing. We were in front of her brother’s girlfriend, and arguing at that moment would have been worse.

—I’m more comfortable like this —Lucía said by way of explanation, sitting down beside me on the sofa.

Vanessa crossed her legs and sank into the armchair in front of us, a gin glass between her fingers. She knew exactly what she was provoking. And she liked it.

At three in the morning, Marisol yawned for the umpteenth time.

—I’m going to bed, darling. Coming?

—I’ll finish this drink and come up.

She said goodbye with a kiss on the forehead and disappeared upstairs. Joaquín got up to fetch another bottle of tonic. For a few minutes, I was alone with the two women.

Lucía seized the moment like a cat seizes an open door. She stretched her legs out on the sofa and let her bare feet brush my thigh, my hip, and, with no pretense at all, my groin. I felt my cock hardening beneath my trousers, pressing against the hot sole of my daughter’s foot, and she noticed it, because she began rubbing it with her fingers, squeezing and releasing, never taking her eyes off me.

—Lucía, what are you doing… —I murmured, hoping Vanessa wouldn’t notice.

But Vanessa had seen everything and wasn’t looking away. On the contrary, she parted her knees a little and let her dress ride up a few more centimeters. I saw the edge of her panties, black, tiny, and a strip of pale skin on the inner side of her thighs.

—Tell her something, Ricardo —she said in a calm voice—. Tell your daughter that secret you’ve been keeping.

—What secret?

Joaquín came back at that moment with the bottle. Vanessa looked at him and my son, without saying a word, made a sign to her that I didn’t understand at first.

—Dad —Joaquín said as he sat down—, Vanessa and I don’t work like a conventional couple. Ours is open. We go together to places where people share.

I felt the floor tilt a little. It was hard to swallow.

—Don’t be scared —Vanessa added—. We know Mom and you have been frequenting liberal clubs for years. Joaquín figured it out when he still lived here.

—And your sister? —I asked, looking at Lucía.

—I know too, Dad. I’ve known for a long time. And I understand it. I understand it far too well.

Lucía sat up, sat on my lap brazenly, and kissed me at the corner of the lips. I felt her hot ass flattening my hard cock through the fabric, and she moved just a little, a minimal but calculated sway, rubbing herself against my erection as if nothing were happening.

***

I should have gotten up. I should have gone to bed with my wife. But the gin, Vanessa’s presence with her legs open in front of me, and the warm weight of my daughter on my lap left me paralyzed. Not from fear. From desire.

Vanessa got up from the armchair, came over barefoot, and knelt between my legs. She gently moved Lucía aside, never taking her eyes off me, and unbuckled my belt without asking permission. My son didn’t stop her. He watched with a strange calm, as if he had spent weeks imagining that scene.

—You’ve got Joaquín’s permission —Vanessa whispered.

—But…

—Dad, let yourself go —my son said—. We’ve talked about it. Tonight is for you.

Vanessa yanked my trousers and underwear down in one pull. My cock sprang free, hard, throbbing, and she licked her lips before taking it in her hand. She weighed it slowly, looked at it like someone appraising a drink before tasting it, and without taking her eyes off mine she took the entire head into her mouth. I felt her hot tongue circling around it, sucking with pressure, and then she started going down, swallowing centimeter by centimeter, until I felt the tip hit the back of her throat.

—Fuck… —I muttered through clenched teeth.

Vanessa took my cock out of her mouth with a wet pop, and a strand of saliva hung between her lips and my glans. She gave a low, satisfied laugh, and took it back in again, this time faster, bobbing her head up and down at a rhythm that made me grip the arm of the sofa.

Lucía slid down to the floor, positioned herself beside Vanessa, and, without taking her eyes off me, pressed her mouth to her brother’s girlfriend’s. They kissed slowly, tongue to tongue, while one of Vanessa’s hands climbed my daughter’s bare thigh and disappeared under the short pajamas. I saw her wrist moving, saw Lucía spreading her legs wider, saw her begin breathing through her open mouth.

—She’s soaked, Ricardo —Vanessa murmured against my daughter’s lips—. Your girl is soaked.

That image shattered the last resistance I had left.

I took Vanessa by the nape of the neck, pulled her toward me, and kissed her as if I hadn’t kissed anyone in twenty years. She tasted of gin, lime, and something else, something only women who know exactly what they want have. Joaquín, sitting a meter away, unbuttoned his trousers without saying a word, took out his cock, and started masturbating slowly, watching us. Lucía, my daughter, leaned toward him and took his hand.

—Easy, little brother —she murmured—. I’ll take care of you.

She moved his hand off his cock and replaced it with her own. I watched my daughter masturbating my son with slow fingers, gripping the base and stroking up to the glans with her thumb brushing the tip, and watched him throw his head back against the sofa with a long groan.

***

What happened after that stopped making any sort of order. We moved from the sofa to the large rug in the dining room, and from there, without even noticing, to the wooden floor beside the unlit fireplace. Vanessa pulled her dress off over her head and was left only in black panties, which she also tugged down her thighs with her thumbs. She had a shaved cunt, swollen lips, shining with excitement. She lay on her back and spread her legs for me.

I kissed her feet first, slowly, biting each toe, licking the instep, sucking her big toe whole as if it were a miniature cock. She moaned softly, writhing on the rug, pinching her hard nipples with her fingers. I moved up her calf, up the inner side of her thigh, and when I reached her cunt I spread her lips open with my thumbs and drove my tongue all the way in.

—Oh, fuck… like that, like that… —she gasped.

I ate her cunt for a long time, seeking out her clit with the tip of my tongue, sucking it, barely nibbling it, while I slid two fingers into her and curved them inward. Vanessa gripped my hair with both hands, moved her hips against my face, smeared her juices over my beard and mouth. When she came for the first time, she clamped her thighs against my ears and cried out with a hoarse tone that didn’t sound like her own.

Beside me, on the rug, my daughter and my son had stopped pretending to be siblings. Lucía had taken off her pajamas completely. She had small, high breasts, with pink erect nipples, and she was on all fours in front of Joaquín, sucking his cock with her mouth wide open. I saw my son grab her hair and push her head down to the base, and Lucía swallow without resisting, teary-eyed and smiling between gags.

—Look at them —Vanessa said, breathless, propping herself up on her elbows—. They’ve wanted each other for a long time. All they needed was for someone to make the first move.

I knelt between Vanessa’s legs and rubbed my soaked cock against her cunt, grinding the glans up and down over her parted lips. She reached for my hand and pressed it against her neck.

—Put it in already, Ricardo. Fuck me like I’m your wife.

I pushed in with one clean thrust and felt her nails dig into my back. She was incredibly tight, wet, burning. I started slowly, marking each stroke, watching her tits bounce against her collarbone. Then I picked up the pace. I grabbed her hips and started fucking her hard, pelvis slamming against pelvis, flesh slapping against flesh. The rug scraped my knees.

—Harder, fuck, harder —she gasped.

I lifted one leg and set it on my shoulder. I sucked her foot while I kept driving into her, and she took a hand to her clit and started rubbing it in fast circles. I felt her close around my cock, felt her cunt throb, felt her come for the second time with her mouth open in a silent scream. I held on as long as I could, watching Joaquín fuck Lucía beside me—he had laid her on her back, her legs open, and he was entering her with short, dry thrusts—and I couldn’t hold on any longer. I pulled out of Vanessa at the last second and came all over her belly, over her tits, long white spurts that she gathered with two fingers and brought to her mouth.

When I caught my breath, Lucía had sat astride her brother and was biting his lower lip, eyes closed, lowering and raising her ass over Joaquín’s cock with a slow, deep rhythm.

***

I went upstairs barefoot, shirt in my hand. I was going to get into bed with Marisol and forget.

But Lucía came after me.

—Dad, wait.

—Daughter, enough.

—Just one thing, Dad. Just one.

She cornered me against the hallway wall. She was naked, shining with sweat, and smelled of Joaquín, of semen, of recent sex. She kissed me with an intensity I had never felt before, not even with Marisol, not even with Vanessa half an hour ago. She slipped her hand between us and grabbed my cock, still sticky, and began stroking me slowly against her bare stomach.

—I’ve imagined it for years —she whispered—. Since the lake in summer. You don’t know it, but I do.

—Lucía, no.

—Just for a while. Mom won’t find out. Vanessa is covering for us.

She took me to her room. She didn’t let me think. She laid me on her bed and knelt between my legs. She sucked my cock slowly, savoring me, cleaning the traces of Vanessa off me with her tongue, and then she climbed up my body and rode me. I felt my own daughter taking me inside her, felt her settling down with a groan that trembled in her throat, felt her starting to move.

—You’re inside me, Dad —she whispered, eyes closed and hands pressed to my chest—. You’re finally inside.

I grabbed her hips and guided her rhythm. She let herself go, rising and falling, arching her back every time the tip hit deep. I caressed her feet, bit her ankle when I lifted one leg, spoke in her ear like I’ve never spoken to anyone. I licked her small tits, sucked her hard nipples until she moaned with her mouth against my hair. Then I turned her over, put her face down with her ass in the air, and took her from behind, holding her by the hair, fucking her with deep thrusts while she bit the pillow so she wouldn’t scream.

—Come inside me, Dad —she gasped into the pillowcase—. I want to feel you inside.

And I came. I emptied myself inside my own daughter with a long spasm that folded me over her back, and she came at the same time, clenching around me, trembling all over. When we were done, I kissed her on the mouth with a guilty tenderness I will never be able to erase, and she fell asleep on my chest, one hand still holding my soft, sticky cock.

I went back to my room at five-thirty. Marisol didn’t move. I slipped under the sheets and, before I could close my eyes, she slid one leg over mine like she did every night for the past twenty-five years.

—She’s very pretty, isn’t she? —she murmured without opening her eyes.

—Who?

—Vanessa. And the stupid look on your face when you saw her.

—You’re dreaming.

—We’ll talk tomorrow, you little shit. Go to sleep.

I closed my eyes. I don’t know how, but I fell asleep.

***

The next morning, Marisol came down first and waited for us with a huge breakfast: toast, coffee, fruit, and scrambled eggs. She was smiling with a calm that I didn’t like at all. I came down last, barefoot, still smelling of the night.

—Good morning, family —my wife said—. Did you sleep well?

Vanessa appeared in a short silk pajama set, no panties underneath, everything showing. My daughter, in the same sheer pajamas as the day before. Joaquín, in boxer briefs, with his cock outlined beneath the fabric. And Marisol, my wife, with her robe open to the waist, showing the tops of her breasts.

—You were talking until very late, weren’t you? —she said. And smiled—. I heard things downstairs.

No one answered.

—Relax —she added—. I had my fantasies too. I’ve been thinking about it for years. You all saved me the trouble of having to make the first move.

Joaquín was the first to react. He went to his mother, opened her robe all the way, and kissed her like a man, not like a son. He grabbed one breast with his hand, squeezed it, and Marisol, instead of pulling away, wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed herself against the bulge in his underwear with a hip movement I recognized because she used to do it to me.

—Vanessa, you opened the box —she said afterward, panting against my son’s mouth—. Now we have to close it properly.

I sat in the nearest chair, my coffee trembling in my hand. I watched Vanessa kneel in front of Joaquín, pull down his boxer briefs and take his cock into her mouth beside my wife’s face, and Marisol lean in and lick Vanessa’s cheek, and from there move to the tip of her own son’s glans. The two of them took turns, sucking him together, looking at each other between swallows with a complicity that made my skin prickle.

—What about me, Mom? —Lucía asked—. What do I do?

—You do me —Marisol replied without taking her eyes off Vanessa—. You do me, darling. We’re all going to be very busy in a little while.

Lucía smiled, pulled her pajamas over her head, and knelt behind her mother. She lifted her robe from behind, spread her butt cheeks with both hands, and drove her tongue between her thighs. I watched my wife arch her back against our daughter’s mouth, without letting go of our son’s cock, and I knew there was no turning back.

***

We spent the whole weekend without leaving the house. We didn’t lower the blinds. We didn’t answer the phone. We ate when we were hungry, slept when we couldn’t take any more, and the rest of the time we devoted ourselves to breaking, one by one, every rule we had been raised with. We fucked in every possible combination: me with Vanessa while Marisol kissed her on the mouth; Joaquín with Lucía while I ate my wife out; the four of us in the big bed while Vanessa directed like a calm madam. We came into mouths, onto bellies, inside, on top. I buried my face between the three women’s feet and licked their toes until I had no saliva left.

On Sunday night, when Joaquín and Vanessa went back to Madrid, Marisol hugged me at the door and squeezed my hand the way she hadn’t in a long time.

—You were right, Ricardo —she whispered in my ear—. This family needed fresh blood.

I closed the door. Lucía was watching us from the top of the stairs, naked, one hand between her legs and that same smile of someone who has just won a very long game.

And I knew it wasn’t over.

There’s a second part. I’ll tell that one another day.