The Night My Stepmother Let Her Guard Down

The first week at Adriana’s house was the longest of my life. I’d moved in there just seven days earlier, with two suitcases and the constant feeling that I was trespassing somewhere that wasn’t mine. She greeted me with a sharp kind of courtesy, that glassy politeness meant to keep distance without raising her voice.

That night, though, something had broken between us. We’d spent the afternoon with the girls, and when we got back we each poured ourselves a drink in the living room, both of us in pajamas, laughing at the day’s nonsense. For the first time she wasn’t looking at me like an intruder.

—I’ll admit you’ve done well this week —she said, turning the glass between her fingers—. But don’t think you’re earning any special treatment.

Her lips curved into a smile that was trying to put up a wall her eyes had already torn down. It was as if she were trying to convince herself, more than me, of what she was saying.

—Adriana, you’re always so hard on the outside —I replied, throwing my arms wide with exaggerated irony—. But I know you’re dying for a hug on the inside. Am I wrong?

She stood there speechless, frozen by the offer. The woman who insisted on keeping her distance suddenly didn’t know what to do. Her eyes widened a little more, reflecting a mix of confusion and a spark of something that looked an awful lot like vulnerability.

—I don’t… —her voice was barely a whisper.

—Come on, I’m not pointing a gun at you. Just a hug. —I leaned toward her, my arms still open—. It’ll be our second secret.

She blushed furiously and smiled. The mention of the “second secret” amused her and made her shiver at the same time. A blink later, she gave in. She came over slowly, as if she wanted to take it back with every step.

—All right, but just one. Don’t get too excited, huh?

She stopped right in front of me, hesitant, waiting for me to make the final move. Her body was still tense, ready to bolt. But when my hands brushed her waist, the soft contact made her surrender. Her shoulders loosened and she let herself be held.

I wrapped her up firmly, without squeezing too hard, afraid her slight body might crack in my arms. I caught the single drop of perfume she’d put on before coming down; just one, because any more would have been too obvious. I imagined what she’d have told herself in front of the mirror.

For her, the hug was more intense than expected, but she didn’t pull away. The woman of ice and fire allowed herself, if only this once, to sink into it, soaking up the warmth of my body and the safety my arms offered.

I felt her tits pressing against my chest, her nipples already hard, showing through the thin fabric of her pajamas, her heart hammering beneath my chin. I couldn’t help getting hard at her closeness, my cock growing against the zipper of my pants, and at the same time I was horrified by what was swelling in my crotch. I eased out of the hug discreetly, just in time. I was afraid she’d notice.

—Do you feel better? —I said, pretending to have a confidence I didn’t possess.

Her cheeks were burning and her breathing had quickened. It was clear she’d felt it too. The tension between us was palpable, as if we’d crossed an invisible line.

—Yes, of course —she stammered for appearances’ sake, looking away—. Much better.

—Good. Second secret kept. You won’t tell anyone, right?

—Of course I trust you —she replied quickly, almost without thinking, before realizing how much that simple sentence revealed.

She bit her lower lip as if she wanted to take it back, but it was too late. We were both playing a dangerous game of irony and sincerity blended together, disguising one thing as another and then turning it around. It was like Russian roulette with our feelings on the line.

—Right now there’s a struggle inside me —I confessed, not measuring my words—. One voice tells me to get closer to you, and another says I can’t do that. Don’t you feel the same when you’re with me?

A mask of surprise covered her face. Her eyes searched mine as if trying to read my mind. Her breathing caught for an instant.

—Come on, we’re just having a drink —she said, trying to sound unconcerned.

I looked at her steadily from the other end of the sofa, one leg bent. I could see that this woman who had intimidated me on the first day now fascinated me to a degree I hadn’t imagined.

—You intimidated me on the first day —I admitted—. Now I feel something different. You fascinate me.

She dodged my words by taking a sip of her drink. My eyes stayed fixed on the shape of her lips as she drank, captivated by an elegance the wine had only intensified. I imagined that mouth somewhere else, around my cock, those painted lips leaving a glossy ring at the base. I remembered the intimacy of the hug, that closeness neither of us had expected.

The same inner struggle was happening inside her; I could see it. The silence between us turned awkward, heavy, maddening. Her fingers tightened on the sofa fabric, as if she needed to hold on to something solid while her inner world wobbled.

—As I see it, I have two options —I went on—. The first is to forget all this. The second is to let myself go and tell you what I feel, something I didn’t expect to feel but that has been growing these last few days and I can’t ignore anymore.

—Come on… we’re having a good time —Adriana said, while a shiver tightened her back and put all her senses on alert.

My words landed like slabs of stone. She went still, frozen in time, her eyes locked on me, brighter than ever. She was fighting a silent war with herself. Her mind was screaming at her to run; her body kept her glued to the sofa, her thighs pressed together as if she could already feel the dampness beginning to soak her panties.

—You’re not saying anything? You don’t feel anything? Am I going crazy? —I insisted, raising my voice, feeling like I’d exposed myself too much.

—Of course I feel something! —she finally burst out—. But we can’t just give in to the first thing that crosses our minds. Don’t you understand?

In her words, reason had prevailed, along with the weight of her experience, the memory of old madness and scars she wasn’t willing to repeat. She knew the shame of rejection and didn’t want to put me through it. Even so, inside she was a mess.

I could feel her doubt. She wasn’t immune to my words, just as her body hadn’t been immune to the hug. Neither of us had seen this coming. The week had been intense, full of changes, of little everyday complicities that had slowly worn down her defenses.

The black coffee with no sugar I left her ready every morning. The girls’ backpacks packed, breakfast wrapped up in their lunch containers. The kitchen tidied at night, everything clean for the next day. Small bribes to her conscience that were steadily dissolving her resistance and her fears about my arrival in her home.

And above all, I had shown her that I knew how to listen. Those late-night conversations in the middle of simple dinners, when she told me about the ins and outs of her work, her people, her frustrations. She no longer saw the kid she’d tried to keep in line on the first day, but a man who had earned his place the hard way, not only in her house, but in her life.

Suddenly I knelt down in front of her. I parted her legs and gently pulled her pelvis closer to my stomach, my hands under her bent knees. She felt exposed, vulnerable, under my control. The thin pajama pants clung to her pussy and I could see the dark patch of wetness already betraying her.

—Mateo, no… —she panted, bewildered—. What are you doing?

—I want you, Adriana. I’ve wanted you for days. Fucking you in my head every night.

I kissed her neck while breathing in her perfume and her loose hair tickled my nose. The touch of my lips on her skin fried her circuits of reason. Her legs, usually steady, trembled while my hands slid up her thighs to settle on her waist, and from there to her tits, squeezing them over her T-shirt until she let out a low moan.

—We shouldn’t… —she whispered, but she didn’t push me away. Her fingers tangled in my hair and, instead of shoving me off, she pulled me closer.

I bit her earlobe and spoke against her skin, my voice rough.

—Tell me to stop and I’ll stop. Tell me you don’t want me eating your pussy right here on this sofa and I’ll get up.

A gasp escaped her, a clearer answer than any words. I lifted her T-shirt to her neck and freed her tits, two small, firm breasts with dark, erect nipples, tight as if they’d been waiting for me for hours. I lowered my mouth and took one fully in, sucking hard, tugging with my teeth, while my other hand pinched the other nipple until her back arched off the sofa.

—Fuck… fuck, Mateo —she muttered through clenched teeth, bringing a hand to her mouth.

I pulled her pajama pants down together with her panties in one yank, leaving everything at her knees. Her pussy was exposed, shaved except for a thin strip in the center, shining with how wet she already was. I spread her thighs with both hands and stayed there a few seconds, looking at her, breathing in her scent.

—Look at you. Soaked through, and you still tell me no.

—Shut up and do it —she hissed, closing her eyes, red all the way to the tips of her ears with shame and desire.

I ran my tongue all the way from bottom to top, flat, very slowly, tasting the salty slickness of her wetness. She shuddered as if I’d plugged her into a current. I did it again, this time even slower, prying her pussy lips apart with my thumbs to get full access. When I reached her clit I stayed there, circling it with the tip of my tongue, alternating broad licks with short sucks that made her writhe on the sofa.

I slid in one finger, then two, and started fucking her with my hand at the same rhythm I used to suck her clit. Her body tightened, her thighs began to tremble against my shoulders and her hips pushed forward, looking for more pressure.

—Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop —she panted, biting her wrist so she wouldn’t wake the girls.

When I felt she was close, I pulled my mouth away and withdrew my fingers. She opened her eyes, desperate, almost furious.

—What are you doing? Come back, come back here…

—Upstairs —I said, standing and holding out my hand—. Not here. Upstairs.

***

Reason lost the battle in silence. When I lifted her from the sofa, her eyes were no longer asking me to stop. I kissed her mouth, a kiss that had been brewing for seven days and now tasted of her own cunt on my tongue. She responded with an urgency that denied every one of her walls, sucking my tongue, biting my lower lip. Her hands searched for my nape, my back, my chest, my bulge over my pants, squeezing me shamelessly, measuring me with her open palm for the first time.

—If we go upstairs —she murmured against my lips— this stops being a secret. It becomes something else.

—Then let it be something else.

I took her by the hand and guided her down the hallway, both of us barefoot, her pajama pants still halfway down one leg, holding her breath every time a stair creaked. In her room, streetlight filtered through the curtains and drew soft shadows across her face. I finished undressing her with deliberate slowness, revealing every inch of her skin, and I stripped off my pants and boxers in one motion. My cock sprang up hard, pointing at her, and I saw her eyes go to it.

—God —she whispered.

She knelt at the edge of the bed without being asked. She took my cock in both hands, examining it with narrowed eyes, and then took it all into her mouth in one go. I felt the back of her throat and had to grab her hair to keep from coming right there. She started sucking me with hunger, closing her lips over the head, taking me deep until she gagged, working her tongue on the frenulum between thrusts and thrusts. Her eyes filled with tears from the effort and a line of saliva ran down her chin to her tits.

—That’s it, fuck, like that, suck my cock like that —I growled, pushing into her mouth too.

I pulled her off before I came and laid her back on the bed. I traced her neck with my mouth, went down over her collarbone, over the valley between her tits, attentive to every change in her breathing. When my lips found one of her nipples, she arched her back and bit her hand so she wouldn’t make a sound, conscious that the girls were sleeping on the other side of the hall.

—Slowly —she begged, voice breaking—. Make me feel like this isn’t a mistake.

I moved her hand away from her mouth and intertwined my fingers with hers against the pillow. I kept going down, leaving a wet trail over her belly, until I buried my face again between her thighs. I ate her pussy again, this time without rushing, looking her in the eyes every time I brought my tongue up to her clit. I shoved my whole tongue inside her, pulled it out, pressed it into her bud, shoved it back in again. She twisted, clutched the sheets, covered her mouth, arched her hips against my face begging for more.

—I’m coming, I’m coming, Mateo, I’m gonna come —she panted, pressing her thighs against my ears.

I slid two fingers into her again and sucked her clit hard, curling them upward, searching for the exact spot that made her tremble. She came in less than a minute, stifling the cry against the pillow, her whole body convulsing in waves, her pussy squeezing my fingers like a fist.

Before she’d even finished coming down, I got on top of her, skin against skin, and placed the tip of my cock at her entrance, slick and hot. I looked at her one last time, seeking confirmation. She nodded, and dug her heels into the small of my back to make me stop waiting.

I entered her slowly, pushing in centimeter by centimeter, and both of us held our breath at the same instant. She was tight, so tight I could feel her opening around me, clenching me. When I reached the bottom I stayed still, letting her get used to me, watching her mouth open in a mute gasp.

—Fuck me —she whispered in my ear—. Fuck me already.

I started moving, first slowly, almost coming all the way out and then driving back in to the hilt. She moved with me, set the rhythm, bit my shoulder to smother her own sounds. I lifted one leg and put it over my shoulder to go deeper, and her moan died against my hand when I covered her mouth.

—Shhh, the girls —I reminded her in her ear without stopping fucking her.

I turned her onto all fours in the middle of the bed, ass up and face pressed into the pillow. I drove into her from behind and grabbed her hips, fucking her harder, watching her tits bounce and swing with the rhythm of my blows. I ran my thumb over her asshole, not quite entering, just pressing, and she let out a long moan against the sheets.

—Dirty little slut —I murmured—. All week acting so serious and look at you begging me for cock.

—More, more, Mateo, harder, please…

I grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled her back while I kept driving into her, forcing her to arch her spine. The woman of ice had melted completely, moaning my name like a litany, squeezing my cock with her cunt every time I was inside her.

I put her on her back again because I wanted to see her face. I spread her legs wide, held them against her chest and plunged in to the hilt again. She dug her nails into my back, her tits rising and falling with every thrust, her mouth open, gasping for air.

—I’m gonna come again —she panted—. With you. Come with me, inside.

I sped up, feeling the tingling rise from the base of my cock. She clung to my back, bit my shoulder so she wouldn’t scream, and I felt her whole cunt contracting around my cock. I emptied myself inside her with a muffled groan against her neck, three, four thick spurts, feeling my cum mix with hers. I held her tight while the last contractions shook us both, panting into each other’s ears.

After that we lay still, tangled together, my cock still inside her, slowly softening, listening to the silence of the house and our breathing settling back into rhythm. I felt the semen beginning to leak from her, warm against my thighs.

—This changes nothing —she said at last, in the darkness, though her hand kept drawing lazy circles on my chest.

—Of course not —I replied, smiling into her hair.

Neither of us believed the lie, and for the first time we didn’t care. Outside, dawn was beginning to break, and I knew that third secret was the one we wouldn’t be able to keep for long.