My Stepmother and I Stopped Pretending That Night

We’d spent six months playing the same game with no clear rules. Elena was the woman my father had married two summers earlier, and from the day she moved into the house with her two little daughters, I knew something was going to break sooner or later.

It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, though she was. It was the way she looked at me when she thought no one was watching, the way she lingered a second too long when she passed me the salt at breakfast, the questions she asked me when my father went away on trips and I stayed behind studying late in the dining room.

An autumn storm left us alone in the house five months after she arrived. My father was in Bilbao for work. The girls were asleep upstairs. And Elena, sitting on the dining room floor with a glass of wine in her hand, told me things neither of us could take back afterward.

What happened that night was quick and desperate, almost an accident. I fucked her against the hallway wall with my pants pulled down halfway, covering her mouth with my hand so the girls wouldn’t hear the moans that slipped out of her every time I buried my cock all the way inside her. I came inside her without even thinking about it, and we both stayed there trembling against the tiles, panting, knowing there was no going back from what had just happened.

The next day she asked me for time. She needed to sort out what she felt, decide what to do with all of it. I gave her that time. And for weeks we lived like two ghosts crossing paths in the hallway without touching.

Until her parents came to visit last month, and the pressure of pretending in front of them —of pretending I was just “the older boy,” the stepson already in college— finally broke something in both of us. When they left, Elena came into my room, locked the door, and told me she couldn’t do it anymore.

—I want this with you, Daniel. I don’t care what it costs.

—Come here —I told her, and sat her astride me. I lifted her skirt, yanked her panties aside, and fucked her slowly on the edge of the bed, her mouth pressed to mine to swallow the moans. She ended up squeezing my cock so hard with her pussy that I came inside her again, without thinking, and she laughed against my neck, biting it, whispering “again, again” as she let herself sink down on top of me.

***

That night, the one I’m telling you about now, my father was away again. A conference in Seville, two whole days. The girls were fast asleep upstairs, exhausted after a classmate’s birthday party. And we went down to the living room hand in hand, as if the simple act of touching in our own house was still an act of rebellion.

—I want to fuck you every night —I told her, pressing her against the sofa, my mouth brushing hers—. I want to have you under me every night, legs open, coming with my cock inside you. I want this to never end. I don’t want to pretend in front of anyone anymore.

Elena held her breath. Her cheeks were flushed, and the way she bit her lower lip when she tried to sort out what she felt drove me crazy.

—I don’t want to pretend either —her voice shook a little, her fingers tangling in my hair—. But the girls... if one of them wakes up...

—They won’t wake up. And if they did, they already know we’re together. They know we’re a couple.

It was true. We’d decided to tell the girls two weeks earlier, over Sunday breakfast. They took it with the almost insulting ease of children who still don’t understand how scandalous it is for adults. My father was still the other front. The one we were missing.

But that night there was no father, no in-laws, no nosy neighbors. Just Elena and me, and the yellow light of the standing lamp lighting up half her face while the other half remained in shadow.

I kissed her slowly at first. I wanted to feel her surrender, feel her shoulders drop and her body open beneath me. My hands slid over her waist, over the thin cotton of the short nightgown she was wearing, until I found the warm curve of her thighs. I pulled the nightgown up to her hip and discovered she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath: her tits fell free, heavy, with her nipples already hard. I lowered my mouth to one and sucked it completely, biting with the tip of my teeth, tugging at it with my lips until Elena arched her back against the sofa.

Elena let out a sigh that wasn’t entirely voluntary. I knew every one of those sounds. I’d spent months learning them one by one, like someone studying a secret language.

—Daniel...

—Shh, baby. Let me.

I pulled her panties down with my teeth, biting the fabric as I dragged them down over her thighs. When they hit the floor, I shoved her legs apart and stared at her pussy for a second, already shining, her lips swollen and parting on their own from how wet she was. I went down without warning. I ran my tongue all the way from bottom to top, flat and broad, until I found her clit, and there I stopped to suck it with my lips sealed tight.

—Fuck, Daniel, fuck... —Elena buried her hands in my hair and pressed my face harder against her. I didn’t let her get away. I slipped in one finger, then two, and started fucking her with my hand while I kept sucking her clit with my mouth. I felt her undulate, push her pelvis against me, close her thighs around my ears.

She looked down at me with that mix of shyness and desire that never stopped surprising me in a woman her age. She was thirty-nine, twelve years older than me, and yet there were moments when she looked like a twenty-year-old girl discovering herself for the first time.

—Look at me —I asked, lifting my face, my chin wet with her—. Look at me while I fuck you.

She opened her eyes. Green, huge, still dazed from the alcohol of the kiss. While I held her with one hand, I pulled down my pajama pants and freed myself. My cock sprang hard against my stomach, swollen, the tip already damp. Elena looked at it and parted her lips without even realizing it.

—Give me —she murmured—. Give it to me.

I gripped her at the base and ran the head of my cock over her lips, up and down, soaking myself in her. I rubbed her clit with the tip until I saw her stomach tighten. She watched me, expectant, letting me guide her, opening a little more as she felt the first pressure.

I entered her slowly. Centimeter by centimeter, watching her face as pleasure unraveled it. I felt every millimeter squeeze me, swallow me, make room for me. When I was all the way inside, she let out a long, trembling moan.

—You’re so deep —she whispered—. So deep. Don’t stop.

Elena clung to my shoulders with both hands. Her fingers dug into my back, her nails searched for pajama fabric and, finding none, found skin. The whole world shrank to the rectangle of the sofa, to the ragged breathing we shared, and to the feeling that we were doing something no one could ever erase from us.

—I love you —she murmured against my neck—. I love you so much it scares me.

I moved inside her at a rhythm we both already knew. I knew where to turn my hips, knew how much to slow when she inhaled sharply, knew where to put my hand on her left thigh so the skin rose in goosebumps all the way to her neck. I drove deep, pulling almost all the way out and sinking back in again, all the way to the hilt, until I hit bone, until she gave a muffled cry every time I touched that spot she couldn’t name but always asked me to come back to.

—Just like that —she panted—. Just like that, don’t pull out, don’t pull out, stay there...

I lifted one leg and set it over my shoulder. Elena’s eyes flew open: she knew what was coming. I came at her from that new angle and felt her open even more, swallow me whole, tremble around me.

—Fuck, Daniel, you’re going to kill me...

—Shut up and take it.

I fucked her slowly and deeply, watching her tits bounce with every thrust, watching her pussy stretch around my cock every time I pulled out. I lowered my hand and got my fingers wet with what was running out of her, then brought them to my mouth. Elena sucked my fingers without taking her eyes off me, her tongue wrapped around them, moaning softly.

Her gasps grew shorter, more urgent. I felt her legs tightening around my waist, the strength leaving her neck.

—Slow —she begged—. I want it to last.

—It’ll last.

I brought one hand down and touched her exactly where I knew she needed me to. I rubbed her clit in slow circles with my thumb while I kept driving into her all the way, never changing the pace, never giving in. Elena closed her eyes and let out a deep, almost animal sound, one she never would have made during a family dinner, never would have let escape in front of my father. That sound was mine. It was all mine.

—I’m coming —she panted all at once, clamping her heels against my hips—. I’m coming, Daniel, I’m coming, don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop...

When her orgasm came, it came in waves. She shook under me, trapped between the sofa back and my body. Her pussy clenched around my cock in spasms, squeezing me, milking me, soaking me with a hot gush that ran down my balls to the base of my thigh. For a moment her nails dug in so hard I thought she’d tear through the upholstery. I held her while it passed, not pulling out, letting her tighten and loosen around me, feeling every beat of her return in my own flesh. I kissed her forehead, her temple, her neck, until the trembling finally calmed completely.

—You’re incredible —she whispered with a broken voice, eyes still closed, her chest rising and falling out of control.

I didn’t answer. There was no need. Seeing her like that, undone by something I had done to her, filled me with a strange pride I could never have explained out loud.

***

When Elena opened her eyes, her smile was different. More relaxed, more teasing. She gently pushed me in the chest until I fell back onto the cushions, my cock still hard, shiny and wet with her, resting against my stomach.

—My turn —she said in a hoarse voice.

She sat up on her knees. Her brown hair fell over her bare shoulders, still tousled from the sofa. She slid down to the floor, knelt between my legs, and looked up at me with a new intensity, one she rarely allowed herself.

This doesn’t look like the same woman who serves breakfast at seven in the morning.

—You don’t have to...

—I want to suck it. I’ve spent the whole night thinking about having it in my mouth.

Her fingers circled my cock with calculated slowness. She knew the effect she had on me, and she used it with that little cruelty she only allowed herself when we were alone. She gripped me at the base, lifted me against my stomach, and licked my balls first, one and then the other, sucking them whole into her mouth, leaving them shining with saliva. Then she moved her tongue up the full vein on the underside, slowly, looking at me, until she reached the head. There she paused. She stuck out her tongue and ran it around the tip, in circles, savoring what was still left of her on my skin.

—Fuck, Elena...

She took the head of my cock all the way into her mouth and sucked me in one go, her cheeks hollowing as she pulled me inside. I felt her take me in centimeter by centimeter, swallowing me, until her nose touched my stomach and I was all the way in her throat. She stayed there a second, looking up at me with wet eyes, and then started moving up and down slowly, in rhythm, coating me in saliva.

She murmured something I couldn’t understand with her mouth full. I felt her smile without stopping, one hand steady on my hip, the other going down to touch herself between her legs. I watched her stroke her pussy while she sucked me, and that double spectacle almost made me come right then and there.

—Like that, like that, suck me like that... —I begged, placing my hand on the back of her neck without squeezing, letting her set the pace.

She sped up. She started pumping me with her hand while she sucked the tip, her tongue swirling under the head, on that exact spot she’d learned to find by heart. Every so often she pulled me all the way out of her mouth to lick the vein from top to bottom, and she looked at me while doing it, sticking her tongue out fully, obscene, enjoying it.

I held on as long as I could. I wanted it to last, wanted the moment when she was dominating me from the floor of our own living room to never end. But I’d spent months piling everything up —the restrained desire, the dinners spent looking at her without being able to touch her, the sleepless nights knowing she slept three doors away— and my body refused to wait any longer.

—Elena, I’m going to come... be careful.

She looked up without letting me go. Her green eyes held mine with absolute calm.

—Don’t hold back. I want to see it. I want you to fill my face.

Her hand tightened with more determination, her lips and tongue kept working with a shamelessness I would never have attributed to her. She pulled my cock out of her mouth just as she felt me tighten, and kept stroking me with her hand, fast and firm, aiming me at her, her mouth open and her tongue out.

When the orgasm came, it came so hard I clenched my teeth not to shout. I let out a deep groan, felt my back seize against the sofa, and came in hot spurts. The first landed on her cheek, running down to her chin. The second went into her mouth, and she swallowed it without blinking. The third splashed onto her tits, hanging from her nipple in a long thread. She kept stroking me until the last drop, squeezing from the base to get every bit out of me, never taking her eyes off my face.

Elena leaned back slightly, smiling. A stain gleamed on her cheek, another on the back of her hand, another hanging from her lower lip. She didn’t flinch. She ran a finger along the corner of her mouth, gathered it up, and brought it to her lips, sucking it slowly.

—Shiny —she said with a small laugh—. I love it when you let go like that.

***

After that, it was the strangest and most intimate thing. Elena reached for the tissue box on the low shelf of the side table, pulled out a handful, and cleaned me with a tenderness that had nothing in common with the urgency of the previous minutes. Then she cleaned herself, laughing like a teenager who had just discovered something new and naughty.

—I’d never seen anything like that —she admitted—. Your father never... —she cut herself off in time, and we both went still for a second. She bit her lip, this time with guilt—. Sorry. I didn’t mean to compare it.

—Don’t compare it —I said, running my hand through her hair—. This is just us. It has nothing to do with him.

She nodded in silence. I leaned back and let her settle against my chest. I pulled the plaid blanket folded over the armrest and draped it over both of us. It was October, the heating still wasn’t on, and the cold was starting to creep in through the old living room windows.

—Do you think we can do it again? —she asked sleepily, knowing perfectly well the answer.

—Every night, as long as you want. I’m going to fuck you every night your husband isn’t home. And some nights when he is.

She laughed against my chest, a quiet shiver, and pressed my hand against her skin. Her heart beat against my ribs, still a little fast, and slowly calmed against my body.

***

Before going upstairs to sleep, I took her to the shower. The hot water hit us and made us both laugh, dazed as if we’d never shared a shower before. I washed her back slowly, her shoulders, her arms, then moved my hand lower and washed her ass, spreading her cheeks gently, sliding my soapy fingers between her thighs until I brushed her pussy again. Elena braced her hands against the tiles, arched her back, and pushed her ass against my pelvis.

—Again —she whispered—. Put it in me again, Daniel. Fast, before we sleep.

My cock had already gone hard again just from having her there, open under the water. I grabbed her hip with one hand, guided myself with the other, and shoved it in hard, all the way. Elena let out a muffled moan lost in the sound of the water.

—Shh, the girls —I reminded her in her ear, grabbing one of her tits from behind, squeezing it as I thrust into her.

—I can’t... I can’t be quiet when you fuck me like that...

I covered her mouth with my hand. She licked it and bit it, moaning into my palm while I fucked her against the tiles, thrust after thrust, with hot water running down our necks. I only let go of her mouth to slip two fingers inside and have her suck them while I kept giving it to her from behind.

I felt myself getting close again. I brought my other hand around to the front and found her clit. I started rubbing it in time with my thrusts, pressing her against the wall with all my weight.

—Come with me —I whispered in her ear—. Come with me, baby, now, now...

Elena shuddered all over. I felt her pussy close around my cock in dry spasms, and this time I didn’t even try to hold back. I came inside her, all the way in, pressing her against the tiles, biting her shoulder so I wouldn’t shout. We stayed like that a long while, water falling over us, my cock still hard inside her, feeling our pulses beat together.

—Fuck —she whispered—. Fuck, Daniel.

—It’s okay. It’s okay, baby.

She returned the favor with an absentminded gesture, sliding foam over my chest while she looked into my eyes as if trying to memorize me.

—What are you thinking about? —I asked.

—That I don’t want Monday to come back —she replied softly—. I know it’s awful to say that. But that’s what I’m thinking.

I didn’t answer. I wrapped my arms around her waist and kissed the back of her wet neck. There was no need to say anything. I was thinking the same thing, and we both knew it.

We left the bathroom wrapped in towels. We put on our pajamas in silence, each on our own side of the bed, almost like a small ritual newly invented. Then we found each other in the middle of the mattress: she curled up with her back to me and I draped my arm over her side, fitting my body to hers like two pieces that had been apart too long. I slid my hand inside her pajama top and took one of her tits, not squeezing, just to have it there, and she pressed my hand to her chest so I wouldn’t let go.

—Together, Daniel —she murmured—. Always together.

—I can’t believe we’re doing this.

She let out a soft little laugh in the dark. I kissed her shoulder through the cotton of her pajama top and felt her breathing settle until it became slow, deep, almost childlike.

I thought about my father sleeping in a hotel seven hundred kilometers away, oblivious to everything. I thought about what would happen when he came back on Monday and asked us how the weekend had been. I thought about the girls, their grandparents, the neighbors in the building, how hard everything was going to be from now on, the looks, the silences, the half-truths.

And then I stopped thinking. I rested my forehead against the nape of Elena’s neck, felt her perfume mixed with the scent of shower soap, and fell asleep knowing that, whatever happened, that night could never be undone. I didn’t want it to be.