Valentina’s Secret with Her Father-in-Law

Rodrigo took an entire week to see Ernesto, who had been calling him almost daily with an anxiety that bordered on desperation. Before receiving him, he had reorganized the company from top to bottom: new positions, executive committees, a hierarchical chain that left everyone involved confused. He had planned it precisely. First he promoted his eldest son, Felipe, to chief executive officer with full authority. Nicolás, after years in command, he relegated to a secondary position. And for himself he reserved an honorary post that entailed nothing.

On Wednesday he had him called by his secretary.

—I’ve been very busy, Ernesto. You can imagine.

—Busy enough that you couldn’t answer a call. Did you want to keep it all to yourself?

—My daughter-in-law is a wildcat, Ernestito. You were absolutely right. You didn’t get a single thing wrong.

—I’m rarely wrong about those things —the other man said with satisfaction.

—Let me tell you more. Never in my life have I had my cock sucked the way that woman sucks it. She kneels in front of me with shining eyes, pulls it out of my pants with her teeth, and takes the whole thing to the back of her throat. No gagging, no breaks. She looks up at me from below while she has it inside her and makes little sounds in her throat that make my skin tingle. When I come, she swallows everything and still licks the tip to get the last drop out of me.

—Jesus, Rodrigo. You’re getting me hard in my office here.

—And that’s just the appetizer. Then she rides me and fucks like her life depends on it. She’s got a tight, warm cunt that sucks your cock right in. And she screams, Ernesto. She screams things you can’t even imagine.

Rodrigo remembered the dinner from a little over a year earlier, when they had gone out together and he had given him the worst news he had ever received in his life. Beatriz was sick. A malignant lymphoma, with no clear prognosis. Inexorably, the countdown had begun.

—At my age I regret few things —Rodrigo had said that night—. But what I regret most is not having been with my wife more.

—It’s natural to feel that way.

—You don’t understand a thing. I’m sixty-five years old and I want what I haven’t had yet. Real companionship. Someone to show me what I missed from spending my whole life working.

—Good. Then we’re doing each other a favor.

—I’d like to go out to dinner, to the theater, take her on a trip... or better yet, let her take me —Rodrigo smiled, tiredly.

—What you want, Don Rodrigo, is a girlfriend —Ernesto joked.

—I want the good things about a girlfriend. Without the complications of youth.

—How different we are, my friend. Me, on the other hand, the first thing I need from a woman is for her to be hot. Like your daughter-in-law. She’s smoking hot. She’s got a round, firm ass, the kind that makes you want to grab it with both hands and slap her face around. And tits that move on their own when she walks.

—Smoking hot doesn’t even cover it. Wait until you see her naked someday, if you’re lucky. Her nipples stand up like fingers the moment you brush them with your tongue. And her cunt... her cunt is pink, clean, with the lips tucked in like a little flower. She gets wet from nothing. Blow in her ear and she’s already dripping.

—Shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch, because I still have to sit here for two more hours.

***

Ernesto had had his eyes on Valentina from day one. Rodrigo knew it. He also knew that he himself thought about her with a frequency he had been unable to control since the wedding with Nicolás. Since that afternoon, something had settled inside him like a presence looking for an exit.

To get her out of his head, he had asked Ernesto to arrange meetings and pretexts. A fortune-teller, an Arabic dance instructor, a fashion photographer. All for Valentina. Rodrigo used his friend as a screen for months, getting close to her without raising suspicion, building a familiarity that should never have existed.

When Ernesto understood, he exploded.

—You used me like an idiot! You asked me to arrange all that and I fell for it like a fool. It was all for you.

—I promised you nothing, Ernesto. Never.

It was true. In the game that had started as a fantasy between two older men, Rodrigo had never intended to back down. Valentina was too much to share. He wanted her for himself alone. And besides, something had changed in him that he hadn’t expected: he wanted her for real. Not as an old man’s whim. As something genuine, impossible to name without it sounding like an excuse.

—You stole your own son’s wife. Nice father you turned out to be.

—If I hadn’t done it, someone else would have taken her. Anyone with a little more spark than Nicolás, and you know it’s not hard to find one. At least I’m not a total stranger.

—You’re the most son of a bitch I know.

Ernesto knew he would have done the same in his place.

—I deserve it —Rodrigo said—. After so long.

—A year?

—Since Beatriz died. And before that too. For that, I owe you.

A slow smile appeared on Ernesto’s face.

—Did you ever hesitate?

—I had some very good times with Catalina. But nothing comparable to Valentina. Like I told you: you were right about everything. Catalina sucked cock like a pro but without enthusiasm. Valentina sucks it like she’s hungry. She wakes me at four in the morning with my cock in her mouth. She sucks me until I come and then falls asleep with her head on my leg, her lips smeared with semen. And when I slip my hand under the sheet, she’s wet again already.

—You planned it well.

—None of it would have been possible without your help. I know that, and I’m not ungrateful. I’m going to make it up to you.

—It’s not necessary.

—You’re going to be the real director of the firm. That’s why I had you called. Think of it as debt canceled.

—You need me now that you’re walking away from everything?

—I need you to keep an eye on Nicolás while I dedicate myself to something else. I don’t want distractions. When we’re in Europe, he’ll be here. If he tries to fly out to meet us, we leave. You let me know at all times.

—Done. The debt’s canceled.

—We leave tomorrow night. Direct flight to Madrid and then Venice. The tickets are already bought. Tonight I’ll tell her it’s a surprise. I’ll tell Nicolás he has to travel for work for fifteen days.

—Venice in spring —Ernesto murmured—. Ideal for a late honeymoon.

—From there Paris, Rome, and then we fly to meet her family. I’ve taken care of everything. I’m going to fuck her in every five-star hotel on the route. Against the window overlooking the Grand Canal, in the marble bathroom bidet, on the carpet in front of the mirror. I’m going to split her cunt in two, Ernesto. I promised her, and I’m going to keep it.

***

The return was more complicated than Rodrigo had imagined.

Nicolás had been in the city for days when Ernesto let him know the boy was ready to confront them. He wanted to see her. He wanted to know. He wanted answers he himself didn’t know how to ask for.

They met at the restaurant Nicolás had chosen. At noon sharp. Rodrigo arrived early, ordered a bottle of Malbec, and waited, picking at bread with olive oil. When he saw them enter together, he noticed the tension in his son’s jaw and Valentina’s eyes fixed on the floor.

—We can’t keep going like this —Nicolás began as soon as he sat down, without greeting.

—Like what? —Rodrigo asked calmly.

—Don’t play dumb.

—If you can tell me, I’m listening. I’m no fortune-teller.

—It’s one thing or the other. I can’t take this anymore.

Rodrigo drank from his glass before answering.

—You’re throwing a fit like a child and you won’t explain why. I bet your wife doesn’t know either.

—Of course she knows.

—Then tell me. Make it clear. I might think your team lost again.

—You know damn well what...

—That other people think you’re getting cheated on?

Nicolás froze. His face changed all at once. Valentina’s eyes widened.

—Enough —she cut in—. Both of you listen to me. I don’t want a scene in public.

—Relax —Rodrigo said—. There isn’t going to be any scene.

—We’re leaving now, Valentina. Grab your things. I have nothing else to say to this guy.

—That’s the easy way out: leaving. Dodging the moment. It’s time you faced him once and for all, son.

Nicolás looked at him with an anger that came out of his pores. Valentina looked at him too, frightened by what might happen. Rodrigo caught her gaze and calmed her without saying a word.

—Other people can think whatever they want —Rodrigo went on—. But the truth is yours alone. And that’s the only thing that matters. As long as you want to know the truth, of course.

Nicolás didn’t answer. He seemed ready for anything. Valentina noticed.

—Now it’s your turn —Rodrigo said to her.

—My turn? —she asked.

—Your turn to make him enjoy it. That’s what you should do now.

—Make him enjoy what?

—Something that, deep down, he likes more than anything in the world.

Valentina looked at him without fully understanding. Neither did Nicolás.

—I don’t know if it’s the right thing —she murmured after an awkward silence.

—I’m telling you because I know what he’s like. I know him better than you do.

Valentina looked at her husband, sunk in his chair, not daring to lift his eyes.

—Tell him, Valentina. Don’t be afraid.

—Tell him cuckold?

—Yes. Tell him.

She glanced at him sideways, measuring him.

—I don’t know... it feels weird.

—It’s because you’ve never done it. When you do, you’re going to feel something liberating. And so will he.

Nicolás was sweating. But he didn’t move. He seemed expectant, trapped in something he didn’t quite understand.

—When you and I...? —Valentina began, leaving the question hanging.

—Uh-huh.

—And you think he thinks that you and I...?

—He suspects it. But he’s not sure. And it’s better that way.

Valentina looked at her husband.

—Do you think that, Nico? —she asked him.

He didn’t answer. Valentina lowered her eyes and found the erection he couldn’t hide, pressing against the fabric of his pants like a hot rod. Something in her let go, something old and new at the same time.

—Cuckold! —she said, and the word sounded like an electric shock.

—See? It grows like magic —Rodrigo observed calmly.

—It’s true! —Valentina marveled, with a laugh she couldn’t hold back—. Incredible! Cuckold! Fucking cuckold! Your father fucks me every night and you get hard. Look at yourself, idiot! Your dad buries it in me to the hilt and you’re here shaking with your little dick hard under the tablecloth.

The woman at the next table frowned and looked at her with obvious annoyance.

—Do you feel better? —Rodrigo asked her.

—Yes. You were right. It’s exactly like you said. My cunt is dripping from saying it. Seriously. My panties are soaked.

He held out his hand so she could sit on his side. When Valentina placed herself in front of Nicolás, the silence between them became dense, like something that didn’t want to be spoken. Under the tablecloth, Rodrigo slid his hand under her skirt and touched her thigh. He moved slowly upward until he confirmed what she had said: the fabric wet, hot, stuck to her swollen sex. Valentina opened her legs slightly and Rodrigo sank two fingers inside, with Nicolás watching them from the other side of the table, unable to look away.

—Did you have something to tell me, son?

—I... I... —Nicolás tried.

—Cuckold! —Valentina interrupted.

—No —he said, looking at her—. I won’t let you do that.

—Cuckold! Cuckold! Cuckold! —she machine-gunned him without pause, while Rodrigo curled his fingers inside her and she pressed her lips together so she wouldn’t moan.

—Enough, don’t overdo it —Rodrigo interjected—. It’s not good to give him everything he wants all at once.

Valentina looked at him with a genuine expression of amazement, as if she had discovered something that had always been there and she had never seen.

—Better little by little? —she asked.

—No rush. If you repeat it too much, he gets used to it. And none of us wants that, right?

Rodrigo pulled his fingers out, raised them to his face, and brought them to his mouth in front of Nicolás. He sucked them slowly, never breaking eye contact. Then he looked at his watch. He stood up. He patted his son on the shoulder with a slowness that was almost cruel.

—Thanks for lunch, son. I’ll leave you two to talk. You have a lot to discuss.

***

They were alone. The silence grew more deafening with each passing second. It was Valentina who spoke first.

—I was just joking around. You know that.

Nicolás looked at her, unable to believe it.

—Do you think this is something to joke about?

—You got carried away by it.

—Oh, really?

—You said you trusted me. My word should be enough for you.

Nicolás wanted to believe her. But the trip had existed. Fifteen days in Europe, just the two of them. It wasn’t something he had imagined: it was real. Only an idiot would think nothing had happened during all that time. And Nicolás was not an idiot, though he sometimes seemed like one.

Valentina looked at him calmly.

—I’ll tell you what you want to know if you really want to know it. But think carefully about the consequences. If I was faithful to you, I’ll consider that you’re asking me because you don’t trust me, and I’m going to want to end our marriage.

Nicolás panicked.

—On the other hand —Valentina went on—, if I had something with your father, it may be that I want it to continue. And you would have to choose: end the marriage or accept it and let me keep going.

Nicolás was already touching himself with one hand, discreetly, unable to hold back. He was squeezing his cock over his pants, palm open, stroking in short passes.

—Or —Valentina said— maybe you’d prefer to leave things as they are. We forget your questions and everything stays the same. What do you prefer?

Pale, Nicolás murmured:

—I think it’s better to leave things as they are.

Valentina asked him if he was sure. He said yes.

—Are you going to let me see your father? —she wanted to know.

Nicolás repeated that he would allow it.

—You know that something can happen when we see each other, and you’re still going to allow it?

He answered yes.

—Then it’s almost like consenting to it. Tell me that you understand I can be free and that you won’t interfere in my decisions. Tell me you know I’m going to open my legs for your dad whenever he wants. That I’m going to suck his cock, that he’s going to put it in my cunt and my ass, and that you’re not going to say a word.

He stammered it through clenched teeth, for the last time.

—You can do it. I won’t interfere.

A long silence preceded Valentina’s smile. Calm. Satisfied.

—Thank you, my love. I love you. I’m proud of your ability to understand.

***

What came after was not a divorce. It was something harder to name.

Nicolás left the apartment three months later, not because they threw him out, but because staying became untenable. Rodrigo began spending nights in the house he had given them as a wedding present. Little by little those nights turned into every night.

Valentina did not protest. Rodrigo didn’t ask questions that weren’t necessary either. It simply happened.

The first nights Rodrigo came home late and found her in a silk robe with nothing underneath. He lifted her in his arms to the bedroom and threw her face down on the bed. He yanked off her robe and bit the back of her neck, her shoulder, her back. Then he pried her legs open with his knees and buried his tongue in her cunt from behind, his hands squeezing her ass cheeks to spread them wide. He licked her lips, her clit, put in as much tongue as he could. Valentina grabbed the sheets with clenched fists and screamed into the pillow. When she was about to come, Rodrigo straightened up, took off his belt, pulled down his pants, and drove into her in one thrust, all the way in. He fucked her with his hands gripping her waist, pulling her back while he drove forward, sliding his cock in and out with a rhythm that made the bed creak. Valentina came two, three times before he finished inside her in hot spurts that left her shaking.

Other nights, she waited for him naked at the foot of the stairs, her knees already resting on the carpet. Rodrigo came in, leaned against the wall, and she unfastened his pants with studied calm. She took him out, weighed his cock in her hand, looked up at him from below. Then she took him into her mouth all the way to the back and began to suck him slowly, both hands on his ass, drawing him toward her face. Rodrigo grabbed her hair and set the pace, fucking her mouth until tears ran down her face and saliva dripped from her chin onto her breasts. When he came, Valentina didn’t let a single drop fall. She swallowed everything and then opened her empty mouth for him to see.

He started giving her Beatriz’s clothes: dresses with high necklines that on Valentina’s body became inevitably different, fuller, more charged with a presence that had no escape. Valentina wore them without asking questions. And sometimes, in the middle of a quiet dinner, Rodrigo would stand up, lift her in his arms with the dress and all, and fuck her on the dining table, with the plates still served and Beatriz’s dress hitched up to her waist.

They had a painting brought in that Rodrigo had kept in storage for years: a biblical scene painted in dark oil, with a veiled woman extending her hand toward an older man who looked at her with confusion and desire at the same time. The painting was hung at the end of the staircase, facing the bedroom door. No visitor was ever able to decipher its meaning.

The months that followed were intense in a way neither of them had anticipated. Rodrigo was sixty-five. Valentina, thirty-three. The difference between them was visible and generated comments they stopped caring about. They had made a decision and stood by it. They fucked at any hour, in any corner of the house. In the shower, with Valentina pressed against the tiles and one leg lifted over his shoulder. In the living-room armchair, with her riding him while he bit her tits. On the desk, with her cheek pressed against the papers while he took her from behind and pulled her hair. Rodrigo discovered that at that age he had a potency he had never had before, and Valentina devoted herself to squeezing it dry.

***

Eight months after Rodrigo settled in the house for good, the first piece of news neither of them expected arrived.

Valentina received a call from Nicolás. He wanted to come back. The birth of Mateo —a healthy, noisy little boy, almost four kilos— had tipped the balance. Family pressure had too. Rodrigo learned about it when Ernesto called to warn him. He waited.

Valentina didn’t know at first what to answer. Telling the truth was impossible without calculating the exact cost of each word. She chose to keep quiet. To let Nicolás believe what he needed to believe.

Weeks later, when she met up with her close friend Sandra after nearly a year without seeing each other, she was carrying the baby in her arms and wore the expression of someone who has arrived somewhere without meaning to.

—I can’t believe how you look —Sandra told her—. After everything you went through, Nicolás just leaving like that... and now I see you radiant.

—A half-abandonment —Valentina said, hurrying to find the explanation—. Every now and then the scoundrel came back. And the result is right here —she said, rocking the baby on her legs.

Sandra studied him from head to toe. The little face, the tiny hands, the features that were beginning to take shape.

—What I don’t understand...

—I’ve already fulfilled the family’s mandate —Valentina cut her off without hesitation—. I gave my mother-in-law, may she rest in peace, the grandson she wanted so much. From now on I’m going to focus on an effective contraceptive method.

—That’s exactly what I meant —Sandra said, bewildered—. Sorry for saying it straight out... didn’t you tell me last year that Nicolás had had a vasectomy?

Valentina smiled.

—He did. But my father-in-law didn’t.