The Valentine’s Day Gift My Mother Shouldn’t Have Given Me

Lorena was forty-three years old and had the constant feeling that life was passing her by without ever really touching her. Widowed for nearly a decade, she had raised her son Bruno on her own through bills, double shifts, and a tiredness that never went away no matter how much she slept. Raúl, her partner for the past couple of years, sought her out rarely and badly. But she was still a woman with a body and with hunger, and sometimes that hunger no longer even knew where it came from or who it was aimed at.

That February night, Bruno was locked in his room with Diego, his childhood friend. They were twenty years old, a stack of half-finished movies, and too much free time. It was Diego who suddenly froze, remote control in hand.

—Did you hear that? —he said, lowering the TV volume.

—I don’t hear anything —Bruno lied, though his ears had gone hot.

Across the hallway, from the master bedroom, came an unmistakable sound: the rhythmic slap of two bodies, a man’s hoarse voice, and, above all, Lorena’s stifled moans, trying to keep quiet and failing.

—It’s your old lady, bro —Diego muttered with a half smile—. They’re really going at it.

—Show some respect —Bruno replied, but he didn’t move from the bed.

Diego sat up and walked to the door as if nothing were happening.

—Look, I know you like my mom. And I’m telling you your mom does it for me too. Don’t play saint. Come on, let’s hear what they’re saying.

—You’re crazy. Leave them alone —Bruno protested, though he was already getting to his feet.

—I’ve been looking at my mom’s body for years. I even jerk off thinking about her —Diego confessed without a grain of shame—. It’s not as bad as you think. Trust me.

With more doubts than certainty, Bruno ended up following him down the dim hallway, stepping softly, holding his breath. They crouched beside his mother’s bedroom door.

—Do you like it, slut? —Raúl could be heard from the other side, between thrusts—. Tell me you like it.

—God, baby, you feel so good... you’re splitting me in two —Lorena answered, her voice broken.

The two friends went rigid, ears almost pressed to the wood.

—You squeeze tighter than your cousin Camila —Raúl panted, and from the tone it was clear it was a game between them, a role swap they’d repeated many times.

—So you like my cousin, you bastard? —Lorena played along, laughing between moans—. Fine, pretend I’m her. Fuck your niece now that your woman isn’t here.

—Did you hear that? They’re talking about your cousin Camila —Diego whispered, eyes gleaming in the dark.

—Seems like it —Bruno replied, hating how much he wanted to keep listening.

Diego disappeared for a second into the hallway bathroom and came back holding something out in his hand. It was a yellow lace thong.

—Here. It was in the bathroom hamper.

—You’re sick. Is this my mom’s? —Bruno looked at it without daring to touch it.

—Obviously it’s your mom’s. Grab it and jerk off with it, idiot. I already did it with my mom’s. If you don’t like it, stop talking to me forever.

From the other side, Lorena’s voice rose in pitch, less and less restrained, more and more animal. Bruno felt the blood rush all to one side. He took the thong. He’d been hard for a while, and there was no point denying it anymore.

—Close your eyes —Diego said quietly—. Concentrate on what you’re hearing. Pretend the one in there is you. Forget I’m here.

Bruno pressed his forehead to the door, wrapped the fabric around his hand, and started touching himself to the rhythm of the blows coming from the other side. Every moan from his mother was a jolt. It only lasted a few minutes. When he came, he did it onto the yellow lace, biting his lip so he wouldn’t make a sound, and he immediately got up and ran to the bathroom before a single drop could fall on the floor. Diego, alone in the hallway, didn’t know what to do and went back to the room.

***

The next day Diego went home, and in the afternoon Lorena and her son were left alone in the house. Bruno was in his room when he heard her call him.

—Bruno! Come to my room, please.

He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, with a store bag resting beside her.

—Sit down —she told him, patting the mattress—. You’re a man now, you’re grown up, and I can’t avoid that. I wanted to talk to you about something.

—What about, Mom? —he asked, sitting down cautiously.

—At a certain age one starts to... —Lorena hesitated.

—I swear there’s an explanation —Bruno cut in, pale—. I was imagining someone else, I swear.

—What are you talking about? —She looked at him, baffled—. I was asking you for an opinion. Since you’re a man, I wanted you to tell me if this is going to please Raúl. It’s Valentine’s Day and I want to surprise him.

From the bag she took out a yellow lingerie set with thin straps. Bruno swallowed.

—Why are you asking me, Mom?

—Who else? I don’t have any friends I can call. I’ve got you. If my son tells me I look good, I’ll wear it.

—It’s going to look incredible on you. He’s going to love it.

—Don’t you think your mother is already too old for these things?

—Not at all. You still have a very nice body —he said, and halfway regretted his honesty.

Lorena watched him for a long moment. Then she lowered her voice.

—And how do you know what your mother is like on the inside? It’s been many years since you came out of there, I doubt you remember.

—Mom, weren’t you the one talking about respect? —Bruno laughed, uncomfortable.

—You started it. Tell me, how could you know?

—Because... the walls are thin.

The silence that followed was thick. Lorena widened her eyes, her mouth slightly open, and for a few seconds she couldn’t say anything.

—What did you hear? —she finally asked, alarmed.

—Not much. Just the part where you weren’t exactly loose down there —he admitted.

—Oh no, how embarrassing. I told him they were going to hear us —she covered her face with both hands.

—It’s not that big a deal, Mom. Everybody does it. It’s natural.

Lorena slowly lowered her hands, surprised by her son’s calm.

—Look at that maturity. You really are a man now.

—The truth is you sacrificed a lot for me. You deserve someone to give you pleasure. You can live your sexuality in this house without hiding from me.

—Bruno... —she murmured, moved—. What strong things you’re telling me. But I appreciate it.

She kissed him on the cheek, grateful.

—And since you’re so understanding —Lorena went on—, it’s only fair that I am too. If you need to let off steam, do it freely at home. You don’t have to hide yourself.

—Are you really serious?

—Serious. In fact, today is Valentine’s Day and it’s not fair for my baby to go without enjoying himself. —She picked up the phone and searched the gallery—. Look. Do you like her?

On the screen was a photo of a woman bent over looking for something in a cupboard, seen from behind, her face not visible. Only broad hips sheathed in tight shorts.

—Damn... what a body —Bruno let slip.

—Say it спокойно, we’re among ourselves. Do you know who it is? It’s your cousin Camila.

—And how did you take that picture?

—Let’s say Raúl and I have a little game. He likes it when I become her. But you like it, right?

—Honestly, yes.

—Then, since you’re such an understanding son, I’m going to let you touch yourself while looking at it. This stays between us and doesn’t leave this room.

—Really, Mom?

—Go ahead. But hurry, because Raúl is about to get here.

Bruno pulled his pants down right there, sitting on his mother’s bed, without waiting for her to leave the room.

—For God’s sake, Bruno! Wait until I go... —Lorena stared, unable to look away—. Just look at the size you’ve got. It doesn’t even fit around your hand.

—I’m really loaded, Mom. I’m going to finish fast.

—No, don’t rush, that’s no way to enjoy it. Will you lend me...? I mean, here, take the phone, look at Camila properly.

She handed him the cellphone. Bruno began to move faster, eyes fixed on the photo, though every time he blinked the image he saw was another one.

—Does it seem big to you, Mom?

—It’s huge. Bigger than Raúl’s, if I’m being honest. —She bit her lip—. Look how wet you’re getting everything.

—I’m never going to have a woman as beautiful as you. Will you give me the gift of seeing you in the set you bought?

—That’s already too much. It’s very wrong.

—It’s Valentine’s Day. I’m alone, I don’t have anyone. Just looking at you. Once in my life.

Lorena stood there thinking, the bag in her hands. Then she sighed.

—One time only. And never, ever talk about this again, not even as a joke.

She locked herself in the bathroom to change. When she came out, Bruno stopped breathing. The yellow set left nothing to the imagination: it accentuated her hips, outlined every part of the body he had for years looked at out of the corner of his eye without allowing himself to really look.

—Well? Do you like it? —she asked, turning slowly.

—You look spectacular, Mom.

—This is getting too serious. You’re not even looking at the phone anymore.

—It’s just that I’m imagining you’re Camila. You have a similar body.

Lorena was silent for a second. Then, almost in a whisper:

—I suppose you’re right, you insolent brat. Want to see me from behind?

She turned around and walked backward until she was a few centimeters from her son.

—God, Mom, you’ve got such a body up close —Bruno said, his voice hoarse—. Thanks for letting me look at you.

—Hurry up, I’m running late. Are you almost done?

—I need more. If you let me run my tongue over you, it would help.

—Oh, this boy... —But she didn’t move away.

Bruno brought his face closer and ran his tongue over her, burying himself in her, hearing her hold back a moan that was not a mother’s.

—You’re a pig —Lorena panted—. But I need you to finish now. Put it in me and feel me, that’s all.

He stood behind her and rubbed himself against her skin, soaking her completely. Lorena closed her eyes.

—Yours... that’s too big. I haven’t felt something like this in years. —She bit her lip and turned around—. Sit down.

Bruno obeyed. Lorena knelt in front of him, took him with both hands, and brought him to her mouth, slowly at first, then hungrily.

—You do that so well, Mom —he moaned.

He asked her to take his hair and she herself placed his hand in her ponytail, showing him how, setting the rhythm. The phone vibrated on the bed. Lorena pulled away and looked at the screen.

—It’s Raúl. He’s getting here. You have to finish now.

—I can’t, Mom. Like this I won’t be able to.

—I don’t want you to stay like that, it’s bad for you. —She looked him in the eye, determined—. Have you ever masturbated thinking about me?

—Once. With your yellow thong.

—You’re sick —she said, but she was already getting up onto the bed—. How were you imagining me?

—On all fours.

Lorena settled herself on the mattress, arched her back, pressed her cheek against the sheet.

—Fuck me. But fast. Take it as your Valentine’s gift.

Bruno climbed up behind her and, when he entered her, his mother let out a long cry that was smothered against the bed. Lorena’s body shook with every thrust, her hips crashing against him, her hands clutching the sheet.

—God, what you put in me —she panted—. I can feel it all the way in my stomach.

—You’re tight, Mom.

—Does your mom still hold up? —she answered between moans—. Enjoy me. If anyone has a right to this, it’s my son.

Sweat ran over their skin. Bruno grabbed her by the hips, then by the hair, losing the last trace of caution.

—Are you going to let me finish inside?

—All the way in, my love. Don’t worry about a thing.

—What if something happens?

—We’ll tell Raúl it’s his. Fill me and that’s it.

Those words finally broke him. Bruno pushed as deep as he could and emptied himself inside her with a muffled groan, while Lorena trembled beneath him, repeating his name.

They both collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, breathing in ragged gasps, the yellow lingerie ruined among the sheets.

—This happened only once —Lorena said, not sounding very convinced, fixing her hair.

—Only once —Bruno repeated.

Neither of them believed it. Downstairs, a key turned in the lock: Raúl had just arrived, just in time for a Valentine’s Day he would never know had already been celebrated.