The Hidden Camera Revealed Another Mother to Me

My name is Adrián. I just turned thirty-two, and I live in a small house on the outskirts of Valencia. I share the roof with my mother, Carmen, a plump fifty-nine-year-old woman who has been dragging around a mild depression ever since she was diagnosed with a cervical problem and retired on disability. My sister Lucía also lives with us, twenty-one, built like Mom: wide hips, huge breasts, and an ass that, under other circumstances, would have made any brother uncomfortable.

I work in an industrial warehouse, assembling plastic parts until my fingers go numb. I earn just enough for us to eat, pay the electricity, and, if we’re lucky, allow ourselves one little treat a month. The house is tiny: a single bedroom where my mother sleeps, a loft with a narrow bed for Lucía, and the sofa bed in the living room, which is mine.

That August, one afternoon I was in the bar on the corner drinking beers with Iván, my lifelong friend. We were talking about women, as we almost always did, until he leaned across the table and lowered his voice.

—Hey, Adrián, have you ever gone onto one of those sites with stories?

—Maybe once or twice, in passing. Why?

—There’s a filial love section, brother. Go in tonight, when you’re alone. And if you get in the mood, I’ve got a tiny little camera, the kind you can hide anywhere. I use it to watch the dog when I’m not home.

I was left with a doubt stuck in my chest. Iván has known me since I was fourteen, and he knows I’m just as horny as he is. I went home, lay down on the sofa bed, and spent three hours reading on my phone, barely breathing.

At the end of the day, what did I have to lose? A good hand job at most.

The next day I asked to borrow the camera. That same night, while Mom was watching TV and Lucía was showering, I went into the master bedroom and placed the device between two books on the shelf, aimed at the bed. Then I lay down on the sofa and barely slept a wink.

***

The next morning, Mom and Lucía decided to go shopping downtown. As soon as the car turned the corner, I opened the laptop and downloaded the camera video.

What I saw left me speechless. My mother, alone in the room, calmly took off her clothes. She climbed onto the bed on all fours, sunk her fingers down between her legs, and touched herself for a good long while. She wasn’t shy or quick about it. It was meticulous, noisy work, her face pressed into the pillow and her left hand tugging at her nipple.

When she finished, she lay there breathing with her back to the ceiling, a small smile on her lips. I was in the living room, hard as a rock, with the feeling that I had opened a door I would never be able to close again.

That same afternoon, after lunch, Lucía went to a friend’s house. Mom and I were left alone in the kitchen, clearing dishes. She was wearing a thin house dress, and when she bent over the sink, her ass was outlined beneath the fabric.

The words came out before I could stop them.

—Mom, why have you never started seeing anyone again? You look amazing for your age. If you weren’t my mother, I wouldn’t trust myself in this kitchen.

I expected a shout, a slap, anything. What I got was a slow smile and a gleam in her eyes I had never seen before.

—Adrián, you have no idea how happy you make me by saying that. Do you really see me like that?

—The way I’m telling you. You’re a sight to behold.

***

Over the following days, even the way she walked changed. She started dressing in shorter skirts, tight blouses, clothes she borrowed from Rosario, the neighbor on the first floor, a sixty-something seamstress who treated her like a little daughter. Mom would pass me in the hallway and brush her hip against my hand without even trying to hide it. I didn’t know how to react. I played along halfway, without quite daring to go all in.

One night I pretended to have a headache so I could go to bed before them. Around three in the morning, I felt the sofa dip beside me. Mom had sat down in silence, wearing a thin robe and high cotton panties. I played asleep. She carefully pulled down my boxer shorts, leaned in, and started sucking me off like she’d been waiting for months.

I held out as long as I could. My stomach was trembling, my legs too. When I came, she swallowed everything without blinking, wiped the corner of her mouth with her pinky, and gave me a long kiss on the mouth. She smelled like toothpaste and something else.

—Lucía hasn’t moved —she whispered—. And tomorrow you’re coming to my bed, Adrián. I can’t take it anymore.

I nodded, unable to speak. I had just opened Pandora’s box, and there was no way to close it.

***

The days that followed were a soft kind of madness. When I went out for a drink with Iván, she sent me pictures to my phone: her breasts against the bathroom mirror, her thigh, a hand tucked under her skirt. When I got home, we locked ourselves in the bathroom and did it against the tiled wall, biting each other’s shoulders so we wouldn’t scream.

One brutally hot afternoon she asked me to go with her to the mall. She wanted new clothes. She was wearing low heels, a tight dress, and, as she confessed to me in the elevator, not a single piece of underwear.

In the store she went into the fitting room and waved me over.

—How does this look on me, Adrián? —she asked in front of the salesgirl, a young woman with an alert look who was watching her with more than simple courtesy.

—It looks incredible on you. Better than you expected.

—Son, it’s very expensive. We can’t afford it.

—It’s my gift. Take it.

She came out of the store with a bag over her shoulder and her head held high. It was four in the afternoon and we hadn’t even eaten.

—What if we go to the movies? —she said—. I need some cold air.

We picked the worst film on the bill. The theater was practically empty. We went to the last row. When they turned off the lights, I slipped my hand under her skirt and found her soaking wet. She leaned over my lap, pulled down my zipper, and sucked me right there, slowly, with her head hidden under my jacket.

—Adrián, on top —she asked when I couldn’t take any more.

I lifted her onto me. I barely had to push. For months, really years, we had been working our way toward that seat. I held her by the hips as she moved slowly, biting my neck. We left before the end, laughing under our breath like two teenagers who had just stolen candy.

***

On the way back, stopped at a traffic light, she told me about Rosario.

—I have to confess something else to you, Adrián. I’ve been seeing the neighbor for three years.

—What do you mean, seeing her?

—Exactly what you’re imagining. And not just her. The baker, the girl at the mall. We do things you wouldn’t believe. I wasn’t depressed because of a lack of sex, son. That was taken care of.

I burst out laughing in the middle of the intersection. I had spent years seeing her in that floral nightgown, sighing in front of the evening news, and all the while half the neighborhood had been going through her bed. I looked at her sidelong and didn’t recognize her. She was another woman, a stranger with my mother’s face.

—Call her —I told her—. Rosario. I want to meet you two together.

—Are you sure?

—Call her now.

***

Rosario was in her village, visiting a sister. She was coming back that same night. We got to her place at eleven. She opened the door wearing tight pants and a blouse buttoned open at the top two buttons. She kissed me on the mouth before greeting Mom, with a natural ease that left me defenseless.

We went into the living room. We had a couple of beers while Mom told her everything, not skipping a single detail: the camera, the kitchen, the blowjob on the sofa, the movie theater. Rosario listened with her leg crossed over mine and her palm flat on my thigh.

—Adrián, your mother is very naughty —she said at last, and stood up.

Rosario’s bedroom smelled of old cologne and freshly ironed sheets. I sat on the edge of the bed and let them start. First they undressed slowly, looking at each other, laughing with that complicity of people who have been at the same thing for years. Then they ate each other out with a lack of shame I was not prepared to see. When they got tired of using their fingers, Rosario opened a drawer and took out a harness with a thick dildo. My mother fastened it around her hips and shoved it deep into Rosario, her breathing cut short and her face as focused as when she used to make my dinner.

—Adrián, don’t just stand there watching —Rosario said without taking her eyes off Mom—. Come here.

I stood up. I put mine into Rosario from the front while Mom kept going from behind. The woman was wide open, crying out for more, pulling at the sheet with her teeth. My mother sat on Rosario’s face and kissed me over the other woman’s body, her tongue hard and her breathing ragged.

I couldn’t hold out much longer. When I came inside Rosario, she sat up and let my mother clean her with her mouth. I was left speechless and almost pulse-less, lying back on the mattress while the two of them laughed softly with their heads resting on my legs.

—Adrián —my mother said in that oddly calm voice—, from now on you’re going to be our boy. We’re going to share you.

—We’re going to share you a lot —Rosario added.

***

I spent the rest of the day between the two of them. When I got home, late, Lucía was awake, sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of milk in her hands.

—Adrián, you two sit down when Mom gets here —she said without lifting her eyes—. We need to talk.

My stomach sank. We waited together. When Mom came in, Lucía looked at us with a very serious smile.

—I’ve known about you for months. I’ve heard you. I’ve seen you. And I don’t care. You’re adults. I just want you to stop pretending around me in this house.

Mom stood up, went over to her, and gave her a long kiss on the forehead. I stayed seated, not knowing what to do with my hands. A few days later we looked for a larger apartment, with two bedrooms, in the next neighborhood over. We had to tighten the budget, but we couldn’t keep sharing such thin walls anymore.

***

One Sunday afternoon, Mom had gone down to Rosario’s place. Lucía and I were left alone with the console on. She was wearing a short strappy dress, no bra, barefoot on the rug. We played a couple of rounds. I beat her both times.

—Cheater —she said, throwing herself on top of me to tickle me.

Her whole body fell onto mine. Her huge breasts flattened against my face and her thighs squeezed my hips. She smelled like coconut shampoo and something else, something warm, domestic, something that should not have been affecting me the way it was.

—Lucía, let me breathe, woman.

—That’s what you get for cheating.

She rubbed against me once, slowly, as if by accident. She trapped my wrists with her hands. Her knee rose a little higher than necessary and stayed there.

—Lucía, that’s dirty play —I murmured.

She smiled from very close, her mouth a finger’s width from mine.

What happened next is another story. One I’d rather tell another day, calmly, when I’ve recovered from this one.