What Happened at the Cabin with My Mother and My Grandmother

I had just turned eighteen, and until a few months ago I was the typical girl who believed love would arrive like it does in the movies. Romantic, slow, with bouquets of flowers and whispered promises in your ear. Reality turned out to be something very different.

My mother, Mariela, had me when she was nineteen. Today she’s around thirty-seven and still turns heads when she walks into a café. Blonde, with wavy hair, light eyes, quiet to the point of absurdity. Always dressed in sober clothes, buttoned-up blouse, skirt to the knee.

My grandmother, on the other hand, is another story. Beatriz had Mom when she was seventeen and today, at fifty-four, she’s still the center of any gathering. Short hair, dyed a mahogany that matches her green eyes. Prominent breasts, a twenty-year-old’s waist. She works out four times a week and it shows. Men, young and older alike, follow her with their eyes when she walks down the sidewalk.

Until four months ago, we were three generations of an ordinary family. Then my father disappeared with a woman twelve years younger than him, without saying goodbye, and Mom never smiled again. I locked myself in my room to cry at night, pretending I didn’t care.

Beatriz was the one who decided we needed a real vacation. She had a widowed friend who owned a cabin in the mountains. She lent us the place for two weeks. Mom didn’t want to go. I insisted. I showed her the photos on my phone: dark wood, tall pines, a porch with a view of the valley. She gave in.

The trip was long. We arrived at dusk, in a taxi on dirt roads. The cabin was even more beautiful than in the photos. The first day we spent unpacking, walking under the pines, and sleeping near the wood-burning hearth.

The next morning I was the first to get up. When I opened the door to go fetch firewood, I nearly screamed from fright. A man was standing on the porch.

—Don’t be scared —he said, in a deep voice—. The lady of the house sent me.

He was tall, broad, with skin weathered by years of sun and cold. Gray beard, huge hands. I figured he was between fifty-five and sixty. His name was Ramón. He was the caretaker, along with another man, Joaquín, who lived with him in an annex at the back of the property. I asked him to come back later, when Mom and Grandma were awake.

They were both surprised, but Grandma assumed her friend had sent him to save us the work. Ramón came midmorning with an axe over his shoulder. He chopped wood in silence, almost without looking at us. At one point he mentioned a nasty storm was coming.

—Storms around here don’t mess around —he said, and fell silent again.

I didn’t think much of it. We spent the whole afternoon walking through the nearby forest. By the time it started raining we were only a few meters from the cabin. We invited Ramón in for something warm. He accepted without much ceremony.

A few minutes later there was a heavy knock at the door. It was Joaquín, his companion. Taller than Ramón, older, with curly hair and dark eyes that stared without shame. We let him in and Mom served him coffee.

We talked for hours. The one who spoke most, as always, was Grandma. She asked them about life up there, about the loneliness of the mountains, about the customs of the nearest town. I noticed how Joaquín looked at her, and how Ramón kept his eyes on Mom whenever she leaned over to pour more coffee.

At night the storm grew worse. Grandma asked how they were supposed to get back. Joaquín explained that when there was a storm, they slept in the stable. That it had a loft with cots, that they were used to it. We accepted the situation without thinking too much about it. The five of us had dinner at the big table. Red wine, stew, homemade bread. The bottles emptied too fast and the conversation, once stiff, loosened with every glass.

At eleven we went to bed. The radio couldn’t get a signal because of the storm and there was no TV. They crossed the yard through the rain toward the stable. Or so I thought.

I woke up at two in the morning thirsty. When I stepped into the hallway I saw light in the dining room. It was Grandma, sitting near the hearth.

—I can’t sleep —she told me, smiling.

She was wearing a thin white nightgown that showed the blue underwear beneath. I had on a long T-shirt and panties. I kept her company. We warmed milk in the kitchen and went back to the dining room.

As we were returning, a lightning flash lit up the porch. For a second I thought I saw two silhouettes behind the glass.

—Grandma, there’s someone outside —I whispered.

—It must be the trees —she replied, but she didn’t believe it. Neither did I.

***

The next morning it was still raining. We spent the day locked inside. Cards, books, checking the supplies. In the afternoon Mom found a bottle of rum in the sideboard. Joaquín and Ramón were on the porch adjusting a water pump. Mom invited them in for a glass. Then another.

I didn’t want any. The last time I drank I ended up vomiting all night. I went to my room to read on the tablet.

After a while I noticed the silence. Too much silence for a house with four adults drinking rum. I stepped into the hallway without making a sound.

In the mirror’s reflection from the foyer I saw Grandma kissing Joaquín. The man’s hands were running over her back beneath her sweater, and suddenly he grabbed her tits over her bra, squeezing them hard. She let out a rough moan from deep in her throat. I froze in place, not knowing what to do. I heard noises in the bathroom. I thought it was Mom. I was about to go back to my room when I saw Ramón walk down the hallway and enter the bathroom without knocking.

I went into my room and left the door ajar. I peered out.

Mom was pulling up her pants, looking frightened, when Ramón came in.

—Get out of here, please —she asked, almost in a whisper.

—You’re not going to leave me like this —he answered—. After everything we were talking about, Mariela. You got me hard. Look at my dick, look how hard it is because of you.

There was silence. Then noises. I leaned out a little more. Ramón had opened his pants and taken Mom’s hand to put it over his cock. She had it there, gripping it, not knowing what to do, eyes wide open. He moved her hand up and down, teaching her, until Mom started on her own. Then Ramón unbuttoned her jeans, pulled them back down to her knees, and slid his hand inside her panties.

—You’re soaked, Mariela —he told her—. Don’t lie to me anymore.

Mom had him by the neck and he was groping her ass with both hands, sinking his fingers into her pale flesh. He bit her neck, licked her ear. This can’t be real, I thought. Mom, the most proper woman I knew, letting herself be touched by some guy she’d met the day before, with his hard cock pressed against her belly.

They came out of the bathroom embracing. They walked toward the dining room. I followed at a distance, hidden behind the hallway wall.

In the dining room, Joaquín had Grandma pressed against the table. He had lifted her sweater to the neck and pulled down her bra straps. He was sucking one tit and pinching the nipple of the other, and Beatriz had her head thrown back, mouth open, moaning softly. With his free hand he lifted her skirt and groped between her thighs. He tore her panties off in one pull. He ripped them. He took them off and threw them on the floor.

—What a cunt, my love, what a delicious cunt —he told her, with his hand still inside—. Dirty old bitch, you’re dripping.

Mom didn’t even react when she saw them. Ramón slipped a hand between her legs, over her jeans, and she went soft as if she’d been waiting for it all afternoon. She leaned into his shoulder, eyes closed, while he unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time and took her breasts out of her bra.

I should have felt disgusted. Ashamed. Something. What I felt instead was an unexpected heat between my legs and a dull pounding in my temples. Without realizing it I had slipped my hand inside my panties and was touching my clit with the tip of my finger, squeezing my thighs together.

***

Beatriz already had her hand in Joaquín’s fly, opening it deftly. When she pulled his cock out, I widened my eyes. It was enormous, thick, hard, with marked veins and the violet head gleaming with moisture. My grandmother took it with both hands and kissed it in desperation, meeting his eyes every now and then. She ran her tongue over the whole length, from the balls to the glans, slowly, as if savoring something she had waited years for. She spat on it and jerked it slowly, spreading the saliva. Then she opened her mouth wide and swallowed it whole, down to the throat, until her cheeks puffed up and her eyes filled with tears.

—That’s it, slut, suck it all —Joaquín growled, grabbing her hair with both hands.

Beatriz did as he said. She took it out of her mouth with a wet sound, held it against her cheek, sucked it again, shoved it down her throat. Every now and then she swallowed his balls too, one first and then the other, without stopping jerking him off. Drool ran down her chin and stained her tits. She didn’t seem to care. On the contrary, she ran her hand down there, smeared her nipples with her own saliva, and went right back to work.

Mom, meanwhile, had started doing the same with Ramón. He took her hand and guided it. She, first hesitating, then with less modesty, dropped to her knees on the rug and pulled the man’s cock out. Ramón’s was shorter than Joaquín’s but much thicker, and he had heavy, dangling balls. Mom looked at it as if she had never seen one in her life. She stuck out her tongue and barely touched it with the tip, tasting it. Then she slowly took it into her mouth, like a girl learning. Ramón put a hand on the back of her neck and pushed gently, forcing her to go deeper.

—Suck it, Mariela, suck it good —he told her—. Make it obvious on your face that you want it.

And Mom started sucking it for real. She made noise. She drooled all over it. She took the cock out of her mouth only to lick his balls and take it back in until the tip touched her throat and she gagged. Her eyes filled with tears and her mascara ran, and she seemed more beautiful to me like that, with a cock in her mouth, than at any time in my life.

—This is fucking savage —Grandma said, almost laughing—. In all my years I’ve never seen anything like it.

She said it while running her tongue over the entire length of Joaquín’s shaft and rubbing it across her face.

I should have backed up to my room. I didn’t. Joaquín looked up and saw me. He smiled. He winked at me, as if we were old accomplices.

He passed the information to Ramón with a glance. The two of them now knew I was there, standing in the hallway, biting my lip without realizing it, my hand buried in my soaked panties.

—Come here, don’t be afraid —Ramón said out loud—. Nobody’s going to deny themselves anything here.

Mom turned her head, alarmed. She took the cock out of her mouth and tried to pull her pants up.

—Let her come —he went on, without letting go of her hair—. Doesn’t seeing your mom with a cock in her mouth turn you on, baby? She won’t mind you watching either.

He pinned me with his gaze. My face felt like it was burning, and something lower down too, a pulse rising from my cunt to my navel.

I should have turned around and locked myself in my room. I didn’t. I walked into the dining room with my legs shaking.

I went up to Ramón without really knowing what I was doing and kissed him on the mouth. I felt his rough beard, the taste of rum, the smell of old firewood. One hand grabbed my waist. Another settled on the back of my neck. Mom was staring at me from the floor, frozen, her mouth still shining with saliva. My grandmother, on the other hand, smiled with a calm that bewildered me, without letting go of Joaquín’s cock.

Ramón led me to the long sofa and sat me down next to Mom. He knelt on the floor in front of me and gently parted my legs. He lifted my T-shirt all the way up to my tits and ran his tongue over my nipples, one first and then the other, biting them just a little.

—This is the first time you’ve been with someone like this —Beatriz whispered in my ear, resting her hand on my shoulder—. Don’t be scared. Look at your mother, she won’t be scared either.

I couldn’t answer. Ramón had already started kissing me over my panties, mouth open, breathing hard against the wet fabric, and a shiver ran from my feet to the nape of my neck. He slowly pulled them down, leaving me naked from the waist down. He looked at my cunt for a long time, with that face of a man who knows what he wants. Then he put his tongue there, flat and broad, and ran it from bottom to top, slowly, until he reached my clit. When he sucked it, I felt my back bend on its own.

I screamed. I couldn’t not scream. Mom stared at me from the floor, eyes glassy and mouth slightly open, and I think that was the moment when she surrendered completely too.

***

Ramón licked my cunt until my legs were shaking and I couldn’t stay seated. I slid to the floor, and he kept eating me there, head between my thighs, tongue going in and out, two thick fingers probing inside me. He made me come twice, one after the other, with his face pressed against my cunt. I cried from pleasure without knowing why I was crying.

When he understood that Mom was getting nervous seeing me like that, he picked me up in his arms as if I weighed nothing and took me to my room. He closed the door with his foot.

He threw me on the bed and took off his clothes slowly. Old man’s body but strong, broad chest, hard belly, cock pointing at me like a third leg. He climbed on top of me and rubbed it all over my body, over my tits, over my face, over my lips. He made me suck it again, this time without an audience. I did as he told me. I sucked him with hunger, trying to imitate what I’d seen Mom do, taking him all the way down until it made me cough.

—Easy, baby, we’ve got time —he told me, stroking my hair—. All afternoon.

He took his time. It took almost an hour before he penetrated me. He licked my tits, my nipples, my navel, the inner part of my thighs. He sucked my cunt again, now more slowly, stretching each lick until I was begging him. He slid three fingers inside me and moved them with a curving motion that made me see stars. He made me come again like that, over his hand, biting the pillow so I wouldn’t scream.

Then he turned me face down and lifted me by the hips. He spread my ass cheeks with his thumbs and spat between them. He ran his tongue over my ass, all of it, slowly, and I shuddered with shame and pleasure at the same time. No one had ever done that to me.

He made me want him to the limit, until I was the one asking him to do it.

—Put it in me, Ramón, please, put it in me.

—Where, baby? Say it.

—Wherever you want. Wherever you want.

When he went in it was from behind, slowly, with a pain that cut off my breath. He helped himself with saliva and the sticky fluid oozing from the tip. He pushed little by little, one centimeter, two, then pulled back, then pushed again. He had me by the hips with both hands, squeezing me so hard I had finger marks the next day. The pain gradually turned into something else, into a new sensation I couldn’t name, a thick fullness rising up my spine. When he finally filled me completely, he stayed still inside me for a long while, letting me get used to him, breathing on the back of my neck.

Then he started moving. At first carefully, then harder. He fucked me and I answered by pushing my ass back without meaning to. He put two fingers in my cunt at the same time, and I felt the cock and the fingers moving together, with only a thin sheet of flesh between them. I came again like that, shouting for him not to stop, to give me everything.

Ramón came inside me with a hoarse roar, and filled my ass with hot cum. He pulled out slowly and I felt the semen running down my thighs. I stayed there a while, face down, cheek buried in the pillow, feeling used and happy for the first time in my life.

After that he took me back to the dining room. He knew that looking at my mother and grandmother set me on fire. Joaquín had them both on the floor, one on top of the other, on the rug, both naked from the waist down. Mom underneath, Grandma on top, cunt to cunt, rubbing against each other. Joaquín was taking turns shoving his cock into their mouths, first one and then the other, grabbing them by the hair. Mom was crying from pleasure, mascara smeared, mouth full. Grandma was kissing her own daughter’s breasts without shame, biting her nipples, licking her neck, and my mother was giving herself over without resisting, arching beneath her.

When Joaquín got tired of both their mouths, he grabbed Mom by the ankles, spread her legs wide, and drove his cock into her in one thrust. Mom let out a short howl. Grandma sat on her face at the same time, and my mother, without protesting, started sucking my grandmother’s cunt while Joaquín fucked her.

I should have hated them. I didn’t hate them. I recognized myself in them. What was happening there had no name and didn’t need one. It was the first time I understood that desire, once unleashed, respects nothing.

Ramón took me by the hip and made me kneel beside them. Grandma turned her head, looked me in the eyes, and smiled, her chin shining with her daughter’s juice. Then she kissed me on the mouth, slowly, with tongue, with the taste of Mom still on her, as if she wanted to welcome me to a new world.

I kissed her back without thinking. I felt Mom’s hand moving up my thigh, feeling around, searching for my cunt from below. I let her. I opened myself for her. She slid two fingers into me and moved them while Joaquín kept pounding her, and I understood that there was no going back.

***

We spent twelve days in the cabin. It rained a lot at first, then the sun came out, then it rained again. We didn’t care. Days and nights blurred together. We ate when we were hungry, slept when we could, and the rest of the time we gave ourselves to each other. Alone, as a pair, in threes, the five of us together. Ramón fucking me in the kitchen while Joaquín fucked Mom against the wall, a meter away. Grandma sucking both men’s cocks at the same time, one in each hand, her mouth going from one to the other. Mom and I sharing Ramón’s cock, licking it together, kissing with it between our mouths. In the bed, on the sofa, against a tree on the porch with the rain wetting our hair, in the kitchen bent over the counter, on the floor in front of the wood stove. I learned to come every possible way. I learned what it was to have one cock in my ass, another in my cunt, and another in my mouth at the same time. I learned the taste of two different men’s cum and the flavor of my own mother’s cunt.

One morning I told Grandma that after this I wouldn’t be able to have ordinary sex with a boy my own age again. She laughed and stroked my cheek.

—You’re young —she said—. This gets tiring, it bores you. The only thing truly worth it is being with someone you love. But you have to try everything before you know that.

I don’t know if she was right. What I do know is that when we went back to the city, the three of us had changed. Mom no longer walked with her head down. Grandma was radiant. I felt like I owned a secret I couldn’t tell anyone.

Ramón and Joaquín visit us two or three times a year. When they come, we lock ourselves away with them in Beatriz’s apartment for an entire weekend, fucking nonstop, eating naked in the kitchen, falling asleep piled together the five of us in the big bed. When we can, we go back to the cabin.

I don’t miss my father anymore. And Mom, for the first time since I can remember, smiles when the phone rings.