The Photos Claudia Didn’t Want to Show Mom

Roberto had spent the month of October recovering from an umbilical hernia he’d had operated on in mid-September. The doctor had discharged him with clear instructions: rest, no exertion, local cold for the first few weeks. At forty-seven, Roberto took those instructions more seriously than he had at thirty.

That Sunday morning, Elena had gone with Marcos to the boy’s padel tournament, which was being held at a sports center half an hour’s drive away. They would be out all morning. Roberto stayed in bed with an ice pack on his abdomen, the tablet propped on his knees, and three hours ahead of him.

Claudia was at home. She was twenty, studied design, and slept late on Sundays.

Or so Roberto thought when he heard the bedroom door open.

—What are you doing, Dad?

Claudia came in wearing pajamas, her hair loose and her phone in her hand. She was tall like her mother, blonde, with the same kind of figure Elena had, but without the twenty-two years Roberto had spent looking at that body until he could no longer really see it.

—Here, with the ice. Bored.

—I need to show you something. —She sat on the edge of the bed without waiting to be invited—. But first promise me you won’t get all annoying about it.

Roberto lowered the tablet.

—What is it?

Claudia brought the phone closer. They were photos of her in lingerie: white background, studio light, a set in different colors. The poses were clean and professional. Claudia looked at the camera with a confidence Roberto had not seen in her before, or maybe had simply chosen not to look at.

—I’ve been offered test shots for a brand. Designer lingerie, nothing cheap. They pay well and the money would help with my graduation trip.

Roberto said nothing for a moment.

—Does your mother know?

—No. That’s why I’m showing you first. I know you’ll understand me.

Understand. That was exactly the word. The ice pack on his abdomen was starting to feel more like an obstacle than a relief.

—Honey, it’s just... you’re practically wearing nothing.

—So? —Claudia looked him in the eye—. You think that’s bad?

No. He did not think it was bad at all. That was the problem.

Change the subject, Roberto told himself. Tell her the three of you should talk tonight. That she should speak to her mother.

Instead he stayed silent while Claudia leaned back beside him to show him the photos better, swiping through them slowly, explaining which designer it was, how they had done the shoot, how much they were offering. The short skirt she was wearing stopped covering what it should have when she lay on her side, and Claudia did nothing to fix it. Beneath the lifted fabric she was wearing nothing, and his daughter’s shaved cunt was on display, the lips slightly parted and already glistening with wetness.

Roberto saw it. Claudia saw him see it.

There was a different kind of silence.

—How’s the hernia? —Claudia asked, changing her tone.

—Better.

—Really? —She turned toward him and carefully removed the ice pack, as if checking something—. Because you don’t seem that swollen.

Her fingers touched Roberto’s abdomen. Then, unhurried, they slipped below the elastic of his pajama bottoms and closed around a cock that was already hard and had been pressing against the fabric for some time.

—Claudia.

—Shut up, Dad.

She pulled his pants down to his thighs with the calm of someone who was not improvising. Roberto’s cock came into the open, rigid against his stomach, and Claudia looked at it for a second before taking it in her whole hand and starting to jerk him off slowly, pushing the foreskin down to expose the swollen head. She spit on it without ceremony, spread the saliva with her thumb, and kept jacking him with her wrist turned, setting a slow, firm rhythm.

—Daughter —Roberto managed to say—, this isn’t...

—This is exactly what it is —she cut in—. You’ve been staring at my ass since I turned eighteen. It’s fine.

She bent over him and ran her tongue from the base to the tip without letting go of the cock, looking him in the eyes. Then she opened her mouth and took him all the way in, down to her throat, with a small gag that did not stop her. Roberto felt the back of her mouth close around the head and his whole abdomen trembled, ice pack or not.

Claudia started sucking him with a technique she should not have had at twenty. She went up and down with her whole mouth, pressing her lips against the shaft, and when she got to the top she paused to suck the tip with her tongue, circling the frenulum. Then she sank down again until she gagged on purpose, leaving threads of spit hanging from her chin that she wiped away with her free hand only to smear them back on his cock.

—Fuck, Claudia... fuck...

—Shut up and let me —she said, her voice hoarse and her mouth full—. It’s really good.

She untied the top of her pajamas while still sucking him and her small, firm breasts ended up hanging over her father’s thigh. Her nipples were hard. Roberto put his hand on the back of her neck and she moaned with his cock inside her, pushing her face down so he could use her.

When she felt him getting too close, Claudia pulled the cock out of her mouth with a wet pop and climbed astride him, careful not to put her weight on the scar area. She yanked her skirt up and ended up with her drenched cunt right above the head of his cock.

—With a condom? —Roberto asked, with the last scraps of sanity left to him.

—I’ve been on the pill since I was seventeen, Dad. Relax.

She sat down hard, all the way. They both groaned at the same time. Roberto felt his daughter’s cunt close around him, tight and burning, and thought he would come in three seconds. Claudia didn’t move at first: she stayed still with his cock buried to the root, breathing hard, until she started moving her pelvis in circles, rubbing her clit against her father’s pubic bone.

—You’ve got a huge one, you bastard —she murmured—. Much bigger than the little prick I’m seeing.

She started riding him slowly, rising until only the head was inside and then dropping down hard with a wet sound that filled the room. Roberto grabbed her tits with both hands, pinched her nipples and she arched back, letting out a broken laugh. She sped up. The mattress started creaking, the headboard knocking against the wall, and Claudia let out sharp little gasps she made no effort to hide.

—Like this, Dad, like this, fuck me, fuck...

Roberto forgot about the hernia. He grabbed her by the waist, planted his feet in the mattress and started thrusting from below, driving into her hard every time she came down. Claudia’s thighs slapped against his hips with the sound of wet flesh. She leaned forward, braced her hands on her father’s chest and dug her nails in as she came, biting her lip so she wouldn’t scream, her spasms squeezing his cock like a hand closing around it.

Roberto held on a few seconds longer and couldn’t. He tried to warn her.

—I’m going to...

—Inside —she said without stopping—. Come inside.

He came with a long growl, shot after shot, emptying himself into his daughter’s cunt while she kept riding him slowly up and down to squeeze out the last drop. When she finally went still, hair stuck to her face, she had a smile that reminded Roberto of a young Elena in a way he did not want to examine.

He collapsed to one side. Semen started running down Claudia’s thigh. She gathered it with two fingers and brought them to her mouth, sucking them clean without taking her eyes off him.

For the next thirty minutes he thought of nothing but what was happening. When she finally climbed off him, wiped herself with a towel and Roberto saw her leave the room with her pajamas in her hand, he understood it wouldn’t be the last time.

***

Afterward, the flat was silent and the clock read 1:20.

They looked at each other.

—That was... —Roberto didn’t finish the sentence.

—Yeah —said Claudia—. I know.

The elevator stopped in the landing. Then the key in the door.

They were up in two seconds. Claudia left the bedroom down the hallway just as Elena’s voice could be heard from the entryway.

—We’re home!

Roberto stayed in bed with the ice pack back in place and the face of a man who had spent the whole morning sleeping. Marcos came in talking about the match. Elena followed him with her bag still on her shoulder.

Claudia appeared from her room five minutes later, hair brushed and wearing different clothes.

—Want to eat out? I’m in the mood for spaghetti.

At the restaurant, three blocks from home, Roberto hardly spoke. Marcos recounted anecdotes from the match with details nobody had asked for, and Elena kept asking him questions so he would go on. Roberto nodded two or three times at the right moments.

At some point during dessert, Claudia’s foot found his ankle under the table and stayed there. Still. Just present.

Roberto took a sip of coffee without looking at her.

When they got back home, Elena asked if he had washed the sheets.

—Yes, they were really sweaty from days ago.

—Good. I’ll put the wash on later.

***

A week later, on a Saturday morning, Marcos had another tournament. Elena went with him.

Roberto went out for a bike ride with some friends early. When he came back, close to noon, the flat was silent.

—Hello! I’m home!

No one answered.

He went to the bedroom, took off his cycling clothes and got into the shower. The water was at a good temperature. He closed his eyes under the spray.

It took less than two minutes to feel hands on his back.

He did not turn around. The hands slid up his sides, wrapped around his chest, went down over his abdomen. Claudia pressed against his back, and he felt her hard breasts against his shoulder blades and her wet cunt against the lower part of his spine. She kept moving slowly, soaping him with a calm that contradicted the tension he felt from head to toe.

—Stay still —she said when he tried to turn—. Let me.

The soapy hand went down and closed around his cock, which was already half hard from the moment he’d heard the sliding door. Claudia jerked him slowly, soap lathering between her fingers, while her other hand stroked his balls. She bit his shoulder. She licked his neck. She whispered in his ear.

—Do you know what I did yesterday, Dad? I touched myself thinking about your cock. Twice.

Roberto braced his hands against the tiles and let his head fall. Claudia kept jerking him for a few more minutes and then bent under the stream, knelt in the shower tray and took his cock into her mouth without taking it out of the water. Water ran down her face and she kept swallowing him whole, down to the throat, eyes closed and hands squeezing her father’s ass so she could bury herself even deeper.

When Roberto finally turned and she stood up, they found each other in a kiss that lasted longer than any kiss in the last ten years of his marriage. Roberto grabbed her wet tits and bit her nipples one after the other. Claudia moaned and reached for his cock with her hand to have it back.

He lifted her by the thighs and pressed her against the tiles. Claudia hooked her legs around his waist from behind and he entered her with one thrust, all the way. She let out a cry that echoed through the whole shower.

—Yes, fuck, yes, like that.

Roberto fucked her against the wall with the water falling between them, thrusting hard, feeling his feet slip in the tray and not caring. Claudia drove her heels into his ass so he would go deeper and bit his mouth between gasps. He came like that, held against the tiles, eyes open and looking into hers.

He lowered her carefully to the floor and got her out of the shower. Both of them dripping water, without even drying off, they went to the bed. Claudia got on all fours on top of the mattress, arched her back and spread her knees.

—Now from behind. Slowly.

Roberto knelt behind her and opened her ass with his hands. Her cunt was open, red, dripping water and slick, and Claudia pushed her hips back searching for him. He ran the head of his cock over her pussy lips a couple of times, soaking it, and then pushed in slowly, centimeter by centimeter, until his balls struck her clit.

He started fucking her slowly, savoring each thrust, squeezing her waist. Claudia let herself sink back against him with a hypnotic rhythm, her tits swinging beneath her, moaning low, with that throaty voice he had never heard Elena use. Roberto spat on her asshole and brushed his wet thumb over it, pressing lightly. Claudia moaned louder.

—Put it in there too.

—Are you sure?

—Easy.

Roberto sank his thumb into her ass up to the knuckle while still fucking her cunt. Claudia melted onto the mattress, her face flattened against the sheets, and started rubbing her clit with two fingers while he split her in two with his cock and thumb. She came screaming into the pillow, the spasms squeezing everything around Roberto at once.

He held out. He turned her onto her back, lifted her legs and put them over his shoulders. He slid into her again, the cunt already wrecked, and started pounding her with a fury he hadn’t known he had. Claudia looked up at him from below, mouth open.

—Come on my face —she said when she felt him close—. Pull out and come on my face.

Roberto pulled out, climbed over her chest astride her and jerked himself off for two seconds before unloading over his daughter’s open mouth. She didn’t close her eyes. She took the semen on her tongue, on her lips, on her cheeks, and when the last shot fell she wiped herself with two fingers, put them in her mouth and swallowed it all with a guttural sound.

Claudia was meticulous. Roberto was too. More than an hour later, when the flat was silent again and the two were looking at each other from opposite sides of the bed, Roberto felt something he couldn’t quite name: it wasn’t guilt, it wasn’t euphoria. It was something closer to clarity.

—What are you thinking about? —Claudia asked.

—That it’s almost two.

Claudia laughed and jumped out of bed.

***

That same afternoon, after lunch, the whole house was napping. Roberto in bed, Elena on the big sofa, Marcos on the other sofa. Claudia in her room.

A noise on the stairs woke him. Soft footsteps, then silence.

When he opened his eyes, Claudia was in the doorway of the hall, looking at him. She pointed downward and put a finger to her lips.

Roberto got up slowly.

They went down three steps in silence. From the staircase, the living room was visible without being seen.

What Roberto saw took a second to register, and when it did he froze. Elena was kneeling on the rug, her skirt hiked up to her waist and her panties hanging from one ankle, and Marcos, his own son, was standing in front of her with his cock buried to the hilt in his mother’s mouth. Elena was sucking him with both hands resting on the boy’s thighs, unhurried, with that technique Roberto knew well and that was now being applied to the two of them’s son.

Elena lifted her head. She looked up at them both from below, unsurprised, with Marcos’s cock still resting against her cheek.

—About time you came down —she said softly—. Come here.

***

No one spoke during the first few minutes.

It was Elena who put words to it when the four of them were in the living room and the weight of what had just happened still hung in the air.

—Marcos and I have been together six months —she said—. And I know what happened these past few weeks. Claudia told me before anything happened, when it was still only an idea in her head.

Roberto looked at her for a moment.

—You knew?

—I expected it. —Elena smiled in a way he did not know—. I know you both. You’re the same: you both think about this constantly, and you’d both have tortured yourselves if I hadn’t said something first.

Marcos was nineteen and looked at his sister with a candor he didn’t bother to hide. Claudia had her arms crossed and the expression of someone who has just seen something they already knew confirmed.

—What exactly are you proposing? —Claudia asked.

—Nothing complicated —said Elena—. That there are no secrets in this house. That whatever happens here stays here. That if someone wants something, they say it. We’re all adults. —She paused—. I had thought about renting a house on the coast this summer. Quiet area, secluded, private beach. Fifteen days.

No one said no.

***

What followed was not the chaos Roberto would have imagined. It was something stranger: it was natural. As if the four people in that living room had been walking toward that point for a long time from different directions and had simply arrived.

Elena was the first to stand and take off her clothes with the same calm she used in the marital bedroom, without drama, without looking for anyone’s approval. Claudia copied her. Roberto and Marcos looked at each other for a second from the sofa.

—You two wait —said Elena.

The two women began moving together. Elena kissed her daughter on the mouth, with tongue, with the naturalness of someone who had been thinking about it for a long time. She ran a hand over her breast, pinched one nipple slowly and slid down over her belly to open her cunt lips with two fingers. Claudia moaned against her mother’s mouth.

Elena laid her on the rug and positioned herself between her legs. She spread her cunt with her thumbs and ran her tongue the whole way from anus to clit, in one long, slow lick. Claudia arched her back. Elena started eating her out with hunger, sucking her clit, sliding in two fingers and curling them upward with the exact technique of twenty-two years’ practice. Claudia writhed against the carpet and grabbed her mother’s head so she wouldn’t stop.

Elena was forty-four years old and every inch of her body showed it in the best possible way: the wide hips, the tits still firm and heavy as they moved, the ass lifted in the air. Claudia was twenty and had the same build as her mother, the same way of tilting her head when she came.

And Claudia came, with Elena’s mouth glued to her cunt, screaming without shame.

Roberto found it hard to breathe normally.

Claudia knelt then in front of Elena. Elena ran her fingers through her hair with a tenderness that had nothing maternal about it, and pushed her head down between her thighs. Claudia gave it back to her: she licked her mother’s cunt with the same devotion, learning, looking up now and then to see her face.

Then Elena looked toward the sofa and made a gesture.

The two men did not take long.

***

The afternoon stretched on for hours. Roberto got behind Elena, who was still sitting on her daughter’s face, and penetrated her from behind while she leaned forward and sucked Claudia’s clit. Marcos came up on the other side and shoved his cock into his mother’s mouth. Elena let both ends use her, with the father’s cock in her cunt and the son’s in her throat, moaning between the two with her eyes closed.

The pill Roberto had taken that morning as a precaution —not knowing he would need it so soon— did its job beyond expectations. He fucked his wife’s cunt with more rage than he had used in years, gripping her hips, watching Marcos use her mouth at the same time, watching Claudia stick herself to her mother’s thighs so she would not stop licking her clit.

Elena came like that, trapped between the three of them, biting the son’s cock so she wouldn’t scream.

It was Marcos who went to Claudia next, with the direct urgency of his nineteen years. He laid her on her back on the sofa and slid in all at once, without preamble. She took him without ceremony, laughing, hooking her legs around him from behind. Marcos fucked her fast, with the clumsy force of someone who still doesn’t know how to pace himself, and Claudia dug her nails into his back and begged for more in his ear. They changed positions three times in five minutes: her on top, her on all fours, her with her legs over his shoulders. Marcos came over his sister’s tits with a growl and she ran her fingers through the semen and sucked them slowly, looking at Roberto from the sofa.

Roberto went to Elena.

—Are you okay? —he asked quietly, though “okay” was not exactly the word that described either of the situations they shared in the same living room.

—I’m very okay. And you?

—I still don’t know.

—You will.

He laid her on her back on the rug and spread her legs. He had known her for twenty-two years. He knew her body better than his own. And yet, as he sank into her and looked into her eyes with Claudia and Marcos naked a meter away, something had changed, not in her but in the context around them: everything was the same and everything was different, like hearing a very familiar song in a place you had never been before.

There was a moment when the four people in that living room intertwined in no clear geometry. Claudia ended up riding her father while kissing her mother on top of him. Elena sat on Marcos’s face and let him eat her cunt full of Roberto’s semen that had remained inside her. Then Roberto got behind Claudia and Marcos in front, and father and son took turns in the same cunt while Elena, sitting to one side, masturbated watching them.

Then other combinations Roberto registered through the senses but not through memory, because he was in no condition to remember anything. At some point he had his daughter’s cock in his mouth —no, his son’s, no, Elena’s hand again— and he no longer knew how to tell.

The four of them ended up lying on the living room floor, among the sofa cushions that had fallen at some point and no one had picked up. Sweaty, sticky, with red marks everywhere.

Silence.

Outside, the sun had already gone down quite a bit.

***

It was Claudia who broke the silence.

—Does the beach house have a pool?

Elena burst out laughing. Marcos did too. Roberto took a second, but he laughed as well, and the four of them laughing together filled the living room in a way Roberto didn’t remember having happened in a long time.

—We’ll have to eat something for dinner —said Elena, standing up with the same calm with which it had all begun.

And they went to eat. The four of them. Like a family.