The Stepmother I Shouldn’t Like This Much

I had been waiting in the living room for forty minutes when I heard her footsteps upstairs. Forty minutes staring at the ceiling, thinking about things I shouldn’t have been thinking about regarding the woman my father had married less than a year ago. A woman who was three years younger than me and who, since she’d arrived home that week, had managed to make every room feel too small for her.

Valeria came down the stairs like someone fully aware of the effect she had. Tight black leather pants, matching jacket, a white blouse with the first two buttons left undone. She’d swept her hair to one side, letting a dark strand fall over her left cheek. She looked at me with a mix of pride and nervousness she didn’t even try to hide.

—Too much? —she asked before reaching the last step.

Not too much. Perfectly unbearable.

—Classic biker look —I said, with all the casualness I could muster.

She pointed her chin at my outfit: dark jeans, a leather jacket reinforced at the elbows and back, black leather boots.

—Accidentally coordinated —she observed.

—Accidentally —I repeated.

She bit her lip. I looked away.

***

The motorcycle had been covered under a tarp in the garage for weeks. When I uncovered it and the matte-black Triumph Speed Triple emerged under the fluorescent light, Valeria instinctively stepped back. It didn’t look reassuring: low, compact, with that aggressive geometry that makes bikes look ready to pounce.

—It’s huge —she said.

—For what it weighs, no.

—And that’s supposed to reassure me?

I started the engine. The roar filled the garage and Valeria visibly tensed. I saw her goosebumps from where I stood. She almost said something, but held it back when she saw me looking at her.

—Relax. I’ll go slow —I said, and handed her the helmet.

I waited for her to get on behind me. She did it slowly, carefully, like someone climbing onto something she didn’t quite trust.

***

The first kilometer she managed without touching me more than strictly necessary. I could feel her thighs brushing mine from the outside and her hands resting cautiously on my hips, as if she were trying to keep as much distance as possible between our bodies. Then came the first sharp curve on the descent toward the city center.

—Marcos! —she shouted as she grabbed my back with everything she had.

And she stayed there.

Her arms around my torso, her chest against my back, her chin almost resting on my shoulder. I could feel every accelerated breath when the bike leaned, and every time I sped up on a straight stretch, she held on tighter. It wasn’t just fear. Or if it was, it was mixed with something else neither of us wanted to name.

—You said you’d go slow! —she protested somewhere on the way down.

—This is slow —I replied.

I felt her involuntary laugh against the back of my neck, warm and brief, and that was enough. After that, she stopped protesting. The engine’s vibrations between her legs, the steady wind, the sensation of the asphalt rushing just beneath us. When we reached the city’s first traffic light and I stopped, she was still clinging to me just as tightly. I could perfectly feel how she pressed her pussy against the seat every time the engine vibrated in neutral, and how her fingers sank a little lower below my navel every time I twisted the throttle.

—You still there? —I asked.

—Still here —she answered. And there was something different in her voice now. Rougher, lower, the voice of a woman no longer thinking exactly about traffic.

We parked by the waterfront promenade when the sun was already dropping over the water. Valeria got off the bike with slightly trembling legs and rested a moment on the seat before taking her first step.

—What did you make of it? —I asked while she took off the helmet and shook out her hair.

—I don’t know how to explain it. At first I wanted you to let me off. Then I didn’t want you to stop ever —she said, still breathing a little hard.

—That happens to everyone the first time.

—And to you? Did it happen to you like that too?

I looked at her. The setting sun hit her face from an angle that made it almost impossible not to keep looking a second too long.

—It happened to me with other things —I said.

She didn’t ask what things. But she didn’t look away either.

***

We walked along the promenade without any particular destination. She’d been hesitating for a while between taking my arm or just walking beside me when I solved the matter by offering it. She slid her hand through my elbow and rested her fingers there gently, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t. And we both knew it perfectly well.

The harbor was full of people that night. Couples, groups of friends, families with children running between the terrace tables. No one looked at us strangely. From the outside we were just two people taking a walk. It was funny how easy it was to look like something you weren’t.

—How long have you been coming here? —Valeria asked.

—All my life. My mother was from here.

—I know. Your father told me.

There was a silence neither of us wanted to break. The kind of comfortable silence that happens between people who have just discovered they understand each other better than they expected.

That was when Tobías appeared.

Nearly two meters of broad-shouldered man with a shaved head, pushing through the people on the promenade alongside his girlfriend, a Japanese girl named Emiko who came up to his shoulder and smiled with a calm he absolutely did not have.

—Marcos! You got here yesterday and you’re already strolling around arm in arm with this beauty! —he boomed from afar.

Valeria stiffened. I noticed in the way she gripped my arm for a second before letting go and stepping to the side.

—Ease up, Tobías. This is Valeria, a friend —I said.

—Of course, of course! A friend! —he repeated with a wink that didn’t hide a damn thing.

—Excuse me? —Valeria said in a tone I recognized immediately. The tone of someone about to clear something up that should not be cleared up.

—Tobías, enough —Emiko said, with a softness that cut through the atmosphere better than any loud reprimand.

—That’s just how I am —he conceded, throwing an arm over Valeria’s shoulder with a familiarity that clearly made her uncomfortable—. Nice to meet you, Valeria.

She pulled away elegantly, without making a scene.

—Likewise.

The four of us walked together for a few minutes. Tobías asked about the trip, the plans, the bike. Emiko and Valeria exchanged short, precise phrases, like two people calibrating each other before deciding whether it was worth continuing. Then they said their goodbyes to keep walking and we were alone again.

—So, “a friend,” huh? —Valeria said when they were out of sight, taking my arm again.

—What did you want me to say? “No, Tobías, she’s my stepmother, but she’s younger than you and me”?

She let out a short, clear laugh.

—Point to you. But you owe me one.

—What do you owe me for not clearing it up yourself when you had the chance?

She didn’t answer. But the smile she tried to hide said everything.

***

We found her ten minutes later. A tall blonde woman, with that kind of beauty that makes you look twice and who was clearly aware of it for a long time already.

—Marcos? —she said, crossing the street without waiting.

—Lorena.

The hug was long. Too long, from my point of view and, apparently, from Valeria’s too, who stayed a step behind without saying anything, arms crossed and an expression that didn’t quite amount to neutral.

—Long time no see! You look exactly the same —Lorena exclaimed, looking me up and down—. And this? Your new conquest?

—Valeria. A friend.

Lorena studied her with that quick, precise look some people have.

—You’re lucky, girl. You have to be careful with this one, he’s got quite a reputation —she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

—I’ll keep that in mind —Valeria replied with a calm that surprised me.

Lorena went on her way. I waited a couple of seconds before speaking.

—Those were different circumstances.

—You don’t have to explain anything to me, Marcos.

—I’m not explaining. I’m just saying.

She nodded without adding anything else. And I knew she had understood exactly what it was, without embellishment.

***

We had dinner in a small place facing the water, without a reservation, at the only free table left by the window. Neither of us felt like deciding anything complicated, so we ordered the daily menu and let the night follow its own rhythm.

—Why don’t you tell your father things aren’t going well? —Valeria asked when we were already on our second glass.

I looked at her.

—How do you know they aren’t going well?

—I heard you on the phone this morning. It wasn’t on purpose, I was passing by in the hall.

It didn’t bother me. With someone who’d listened without pretending not to have listened, it was hard to get angry.

—Because he already has enough on his plate. And because I’m not really sure what exactly to tell him —I said.

—What happened?

—The usual. Two people who think they’re going in the same direction until one day they realize they aren’t.

Valeria spun her glass between her fingers, looking at the wine as if she were searching for something inside it.

—I thought the same with my last relationship. Four years thinking we were building something together, and one day I realized I’d built it all on my own.

—And then my father showed up?

—And then your father showed up —she repeated, without evasions, without excuses—. I didn’t go looking for him. You don’t go looking for these things, Marcos.

—I know.

—Do you? —The question sounded different than it would have in another mouth. It wasn’t a reproach. It was a real question.

I looked into her eyes. There was something uncomfortable and completely honest about that question, about the way she asked it without looking away for a single moment.

—I know —I repeated.

The silence that followed was different from the previous ones that night. Heavier. More aware of itself.

***

On the way back home, the ride was completely different from the trip out. Valeria got on behind me without hesitation this time, without that moment of restrained tension in the garage. She didn’t wait for the bike to lean before hugging me. Her arms wrapped around my waist from the first acceleration, and all the way back I felt the warmth of her body against mine, her cheek pressed to my back, her fingers interlaced over my stomach. More than once I noticed those fingers sliding a couple of centimeters lower than they should have, brushing my belt, staying there, no longer pretending about anything.

I said nothing.

Neither did she.

I parked in the garage and switched off the engine. Silence came abruptly, as always after the constant noise. Neither of us moved for several seconds.

—Thank you —Valeria said softly, still not letting go of me.

—For what?

—For tonight. For everything.

She got off the bike. I did too. We were both standing in the garage, with only the fluorescent light overhead, the smell of oil and leather in the air, the engine still warm beside us.

—Valeria —I said.

—I know —she replied before I could continue.

And yet she didn’t move. And neither did I.

It was her who took the step. A small movement, almost imperceptible, but enough for the distance between us to disappear completely. I lifted my hand and brushed away the strand falling over her cheek, and when my fingers touched her skin I felt that we had both crossed a line neither of us intended to go back over.

The kiss started slowly. There was nothing urgent or impulsive about it, quite the opposite. It was the kind of kiss you give when both people know exactly what they’re doing and decide to do it anyway. Her hands slid up my sides to grip the back of my jacket, and I pulled her closer until there was no space left between our bodies. I slipped my tongue into her mouth without asking permission and she opened with a low, muffled moan, answering with hers as if she’d been waiting weeks for that exact tongue. I squeezed her ass over the leather and she gasped into my mouth.

—This is insane —she murmured against my mouth.

—I know.

—Your father...

—He’s not here.

—Marcos...

—Valeria.

Another silence. Then her lips were on mine again, this time without the pause. I bit her lower lip and she found my hand, bringing it straight to her left breast, still over the blouse. I squeezed it, and I felt the hard nipple pressing into my palm through the fabric.

—Upstairs —she gasped—. Now.

***

We went upstairs without turning on the hallway lights. Her fingers intertwined with mine, both of us moving in silence as if noise might break something fragile. We entered the bedroom and she turned to look at me before I closed the door.

—If tomorrow you tell me it was a mistake, I’ll understand —she said.

—Tomorrow is tomorrow.

I unfastened her leather jacket calmly, running my fingers over each zipper without hurrying. She did the same with mine. When both jackets fell to the floor, the white blouse was the only thing between my hands and her skin, and I stripped that off too, letting the shoulder straps fall with the same deliberate slowness. Underneath she wore a black lace bra that barely covered half her breasts, and the nipples were already hard against the fabric. I brushed one with my thumb and she closed her eyes.

—Take it off —she whispered.

I tore the bra open and her breasts fell free, round, bigger than the blouse’s cut had suggested, with dark, erect nipples pointing upward. I leaned down and sucked one while I squeezed the other with my hand. Valeria let out a long moan, mouth open, and drove her fingers into my neck so I wouldn’t stop. I nipped gently at her nipple, tugged it with my teeth, and she arched her back against my mouth.

—Fuck, Marcos... more...

I switched breasts and did the same to the other one. I ran my tongue around the nipple without touching it, and when I finally covered it completely with my mouth and sucked hard, she swore through clenched teeth and pressed my head to her chest. I slid my hand down her stomach, undid the button on her leather pants and slipped my hand inside without taking off the clothes yet. The panties were the same black lace as the bra, and they were soaked. I rubbed my fingers over the wet fabric and felt her hips move on their own, searching for me.

—You’re dripping —I murmured against her ear.

—I’ve been like this since the fucking bike —she answered, unfiltered, voice rough—. Fuck me already, please.

I laid her on the bed and took off her leather pants with some difficulty, which made both of us let out a low, involuntary laugh that broke the tension in the best possible way.

—They’re hard to put on and hard to take off —she admitted.

—But they were worth it —I said.

That made her fall silent all at once and look at me with an expression I couldn’t classify exactly: a mix of something that might have been embarrassment and something that definitely wasn’t. I tore the panties off at the side without mercy and threw them to the floor. She was completely naked now, legs slightly apart, her shaved pussy gleaming wet under the little light coming through the window.

I knelt at the edge of the bed, grabbed her thighs, and spread them wider. She let me, resting the back of her head against the pillow, looking down at me with parted lips.

—Don’t do that —she gasped when she understood what I was about to do.

—Why?

—Because I’m going to come in two seconds.

—Even better.

I ran my whole tongue through her pussy, bottom to top, slowly, finally closing over the clit. Valeria arched her hips against my mouth and let out a long, obscene moan that filled the whole room. She tasted of salt and aroused woman, and she was so wet my chin was soaked on the first lick. I parted her lips with two fingers and sucked her clit directly, no detours, drawing circles with the tip of my tongue.

—Fuck, fuck, fuck —she panted, pressing my head against her with both hands—. Yes, there, don’t stop...

I slipped in a finger while I kept sucking her clit, and I felt her cunt tighten around it, hot and tight. I added a second finger and curved them upward, searching for that spot inside, and when I found it she jerked with her whole hips.

—There! There there there! —she blurted almost shouting, suddenly covering her mouth with her other hand.

I sped up. I sucked and licked and pumped with my fingers at the same rhythm, feeling her tremble, feeling her thighs closing around my head. She came before I had time to pull away. She came with a strangled gasp, biting the back of her hand so as not to wake anyone, her hips lifting and falling against my mouth, her cunt contracting around my fingers. I kept licking her clit through the last spasm until she gently pushed me away with her free hand because she couldn’t take any more.

—Come here —she whispered—. Come here now.

I climbed onto the bed and stripped off what was left of my clothes while she watched me with narrowed eyes and breathing still out of control. When she saw my cock, she bit her lip, propped herself up on one elbow, and grabbed it with her hand.

—Come —she repeated, and tugged me gently toward her face.

I knelt astride her chest and she took the tip into her mouth without warning. I closed my eyes. She started slowly, sucking only the head, her tongue circling around it, until she took more and more of me, little by little, until I felt her reach the back of her throat. She set the pace herself with her hand at the base, squeezing me, sliding her wet mouth up and down my cock.

—Fuck, Valeria... —I managed to say.

She looked up from below, eyes shining and lips stretched around my dick, and that image alone almost finished me. She pulled it out of her mouth, licked it all the way from the balls to the tip, took it back in and sped up. I put my hand on the back of her neck without squeezing, just following the motion, and she moaned with my cock still inside her mouth. The sound, the vibration, made me clench my teeth.

—Stop —I panted—. Stop or I’m going to come already.

She pulled my cock from her mouth with a wet pop and smiled, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb.

—And what’s the problem?

—The problem is I want to fuck you first.

—Then fuck me —she said, lying back down and opening her legs—. Fuck me now, don’t make me wait any longer.

I positioned myself between her thighs and dragged the tip of my cock through her wet cunt, up and down, brushing her clit with the head. She closed her eyes and arched her back toward me.

—Put it in —she begged—. Marcos, please, put it in already.

I pushed slowly, sinking in all at once to the hilt. We both moaned at the same time. She was so tight, so wet, so hot that I had to stay still for a second so I wouldn’t come at the first thrust. Valeria dug her nails into my back and searched for my mouth.

—Move —she gasped against my lips—. Fuck me hard, don’t hold back.

I started moving. Slow at first, coming almost all the way out and sinking back in fully, feeling her cunt opening and closing around me with every thrust. She wrapped her legs around my hips and pulled me deeper, squeezing me with her heels.

—Faster —she asked—. Faster, fuck, faster...

I grabbed her under the thighs, lifted her legs, and sped up. Each thrust made the bed creak softly and her tits bounce, and she let out a small moan with every shove, broken, higher and higher. I looked at her face while I fucked her: eyes closed, mouth open, black hair scattered across the pillow, throat exposed.

—Look at me —I said.

She opened her eyes.

—Look at me while I fuck you.

—Fuck... —she whispered, holding my gaze—. Fuck, Marcos, don’t stop...

I pulled out. She gave a small protesting whimper that cut off when I flipped her over and put her on her knees, face down on the pillow and ass lifted. I knelt behind her, put one hand on her hip, and with the other guided my cock back inside her, all the way to the hilt, in one thrust.

—Aaah, fuck! —she moaned into the pillow, biting it so she wouldn’t scream.

From there I fucked her harder. Each thrust made her ass tremble against my hips, and I could see her arched back, her hair tousled, my cock sliding in and out shiny with her juices. I slapped her right ass cheek and she let out a muffled moan.

—Again —she begged, voice broken.

I slapped her again, harder. The pink handprint showed on her skin. I hit the other cheek and she arched her back even more, pushing her ass against me, asking for more.

—Like that, like that, like that —she panted through clenched teeth—. Fuck me like that, don’t stop...

I slid my hand underneath to find her clit and started rubbing it with two fingers while I kept pounding her from behind. It was too much. Within seconds I felt her cunt clamping brutally around my cock, her whole body starting to shake, the moan catching in her throat.

—I’m coming... I’m coming... I’m coming again... —she babbled.

She came with a long, muffled gasp, ass clenched against my hips and cunt milking me inside. I held on as best I could, teeth gritted, forcing myself not to empty yet.

I let her recover for a second. She collapsed onto her side, panting, sweaty, hair plastered to her forehead. She looked up at me from below and smiled, a tired smile that was completely surrendered.

—Come —she said, tugging my arm—. Lie down.

I lay on my back. She climbed on top, grabbed my cock with her hand, and slowly slid it into herself, sitting down on it centimeter by centimeter, eyes closed and mouth open. When she had it all the way inside, she stayed still for a few seconds, hands on my chest, breathing deeply.

—Fuck, feeling this full turns me on —she whispered.

She started moving. At first slowly, lifting and lowering her hips, finding her rhythm. I grabbed her breasts with both hands, squeezing them, playing with her nipples between my fingers. She bit her lip and looked down at me, riding me faster and faster, and I watched her tits bouncing in front of me, her flat stomach tightening, her skin shiny with sweat.

—You like it like this, don’t you? —she panted, pressing her hands to my chest and speeding up—. Seeing me on top fucking you...

—Yes —I said, watching her.

She grabbed my wrists and put them back on her tits, forcing me to squeeze harder.

—Say it.

—Yes, fuck, I like it like this.

I smacked her ass and she moaned, speeding up even more. She leaned forward, placing her palms beside my head, and from that position I fucked her from below, thrusting my hips while she undulated on top. I bit the nipple at mouth height and she let out a long moan.

—I’m going to come —I warned her, gritting my teeth.

—Not inside —she gasped—. Not inside, Marcos, come on my tits, in my mouth, wherever you want, but not inside.

I held on for the last few seconds. At the last moment she slipped off me, knelt beside me, and grabbed my cock with her hand, jerking me fast, tongue out, aiming me toward her open mouth and breasts. I came with a strangled gasp. Thick, hot spurts landed between her tits, in her throat, one hit her chin and another went straight onto her tongue. She closed her eyes and kept jerking me until the last drop, milking my cock slowly, and then, without taking her eyes off me, she ran her tongue over her lips and swallowed what had fallen into her mouth.

—Fuck... —I managed to say.

She laughed, a low, rough, satisfied laugh. She wiped the semen from her chest with two fingers and brought them to her mouth without looking away.

When we were done, we both lay still in the dark, listening to the house’s silence and the distant murmur of the harbor coming through the half-open window. Her head on my chest, my hand in her tousled hair, still sticky-skinned and the smell of sex filling the whole room.

—Regret it? —I asked at last.

It took her a second to answer.

—Ask me tomorrow —she said. But she was smiling when she said it. And that was more than enough for that night.