When My Mother Offered to Be My Secretary

Lorena was fifty-one years old and had a body that had never learned how to age. Brown hair down to her shoulders, a waist that still curved in, and generous breasts that no sweater could ever fully hide. Damián knew it. He had known it for far too long, though he had never allowed himself to say it out loud, not even inside his own head.

That morning, however, his mind was elsewhere. He paced back and forth across the living room with the phone pressed to his ear, jaw tight.

—What’s wrong, son? You look awful —she asked from the kitchen, drying her hands on a dish towel.

—Marta just quit. My secretary. Today. No warning.

—Right now? —Lorena frowned—. Isn’t it the end of the month?

—That’s why it’s a disaster. I have to hand in the closing accounts and no one in the office can cover for her, everyone’s up to their necks. —He sank onto the sofa and rubbed his face with both hands—. I’m going to have to carry everything myself.

—Absolutely not. You’ve been sleeping five hours a night for weeks. You’re going to get sick.

If only this were that easy to fix, he thought.

She stood in the doorway, biting the inside of her cheek, that habit she had when an idea kept turning over in her head and she still hadn’t decided to voice it.

—What if I helped you? —she said at last.

Damián looked up.

—You?

—Why not? I was an office administrator for ten years before I had you. I know how to manage an agenda, file things, answer the phone. It’d only be for a few days, until you find someone else.

—I don’t know, Mom. Being a secretary is a lot of things. I don’t know if I can ask you for all that.

—You’re not asking me. I’m offering. —She smiled—. Give me ten minutes to get ready. If I’m going to your office, I’m going looking presentable.

She went upstairs before he could answer. Damián stayed staring at the empty doorway, with a strange discomfort in his stomach, like someone who senses something coming and prefers not to give it a name.

***

When she came back down, Damián completely forgot about the month-end closing.

Lorena was wearing a gray pencil skirt that reached mid-calf and clung to her hips like a second skin. Above it, a white blouse whose buttons were losing a hopeless battle over her breasts. She had swept her hair to one side and painted her lips a discreet red.

—Well? —she asked, turning slowly—. Do I pass for a secretary?

He took a while to answer. He looked her up and down, and for a moment forgot she was his mother.

—I had no idea you were still keeping yourself like this —he said, and his voice came out rougher than he intended.

—Of course. Your mother still has plenty going for her. —She laughed, pleased—. I’m not that old.

—Turn around again.

Lorena hesitated for half a second, but obeyed. And when she turned, the skirt clung to her from behind in a way that dried Damián’s mouth and made his cock go rock hard inside his pants all at once.

—Mom… —he started, and stopped.

—What? —She glanced at him over her shoulder.

—Nothing. It’s just that you look… —He swallowed—. You’ve got an ass that could drive a man insane.

—Damián! —she cried, pretending to be offended, though the blush rising up her neck betrayed her—. I’m your mother.

—And before I’m your son, I’m a man —he answered, holding her gaze—. And I’m getting hard just looking at you. I can’t help it.

The living room fell silent. Lorena lowered her eyes to the bulge showing beneath her son’s pants and swallowed. She did not look away as quickly as she should have.

—I didn’t expect my body to do that to you —she said softly—. To you.

—Then look at me. A skirt and a blouse have me hard as a rock. Imagine what you do to me with no clothes on.

—Do you think so? —She glanced sideways at her profile in the hallway mirror, as if seeing herself for the first time in years. She ran her tongue over her painted lip.

***

—Do you like being looked at by men? —he asked, still seated, not taking his eyes off her.

Lorena bit her lip.

—It’s been a long time since anyone looked at me the way you’re looking at me now —she admitted—. And yes. It makes me feel alive. It makes me feel wet, if I’m going to be honest.

—And what did you feel when you realized I was getting hard because of you?

—Damián, this is really strange.

—You told me that if we don’t trust each other, then who do we trust? You always say that.

She sighed. She came closer slowly and sat on the arm of the sofa, at a distance that was not that of a mother.

—First I felt something drop in here —she put a hand to her chest—. And then, lower down. And when I remembered you’re my son, I felt ashamed. But shame wasn’t the only thing I felt. —She lowered her voice to almost a whisper—. My nipples tightened and my panties got wet. And that’s what won’t leave me in peace.

Damián rested a hand on her knee, over the stocking, and slid it slowly up her thigh until it brushed the hem of her skirt. She didn’t stop him.

—I’ve been carrying everything on my own for years —he said—. The work, the house, everything. And I’m tired in another way, Mom. A way sleep won’t fix. I need to fuck. I need to unload.

—And what do you think will fix you? —she asked, and from her tone he knew she already knew the answer.

—You. This cunt of my mother, just for today. That you’re not my mother for a while. That you’re my secretary, and that you suck my cock, and ride it until I come.

—You’re taking advantage of the fact that a mother would do anything for her son —she murmured, but her hand had already come down to cover his, guiding it upward between her legs until Damián felt the hot wetness soaking through the fabric of her panties.

—Look at you, Mom. You’re dripping.

—Shut up —she gasped, closing her eyes—. Only if you want this too. If you tell me no, you go upstairs, change, and we forget all about it.

—I want it. I’ve wanted it for years.

The silence stretched. Lorena drew a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes, something in them had changed.

—All right —she said—. But let’s be clear: right now I’m not your mother. I’m your secretary. And I’m going to make you forget Marta and all the others. Understand?

***

Damián reclined on the sofa and pulled her by the waist until she sat astride him. Lorena let herself go, hands on his shoulders, feeling through her skirt her son’s hard cock pressing between her thighs, seeking her sex through the fabric.

—Don’t kiss me on the mouth —she said, trembling—. Not that. That’s the one thing I don’t want.

—Anywhere you want —he answered, and buried his face in her neck.

He kissed her slowly, right where her perfume was strongest, and licked down along her collarbone to the top of her breasts. He heard her release a hoarse moan she hadn’t let out in years. He unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time, unhurried, revealing a black bra that barely contained those heavy, firm breasts of a mature mother. Her nipples pressed hard through the lace. Lorena arched when he ran his thumb over the fabric and pinched one.

—Oh, son… it’s been so long since someone touched me like that —she confessed, voice breaking—. So long since anyone sucked my tits.

—Then from now on I’ll suck them, Mom. Every morning if I have to.

He pulled the straps down with his teeth, yanked off her bra, and her breasts spilled out over him, heavy, with large dark areolas and erect nipples pointing at his face. Damián took one whole nipple into his mouth, sucked hard, tugged it with his lips, nibbled it. Then he moved to the other. He sucked them as if he had years of delayed hunger. Lorena dug her fingers into his hair, no longer knowing whether she wanted to push him away or pull him closer. She chose the second, pressing his face against her breasts until she almost smothered him.

—That’s it, son, that’s it, suck on your mother, eat these tits —she panted, moving her hips over him, rubbing her wet cunt against the iron-hard bulge in his pants—. Look how hard you get, God, how hard you get against my cunt.

Under the skirt, her hips started moving on their own, seeking friction, and every brush of contact shot a lash of pleasure up her spine.

—Wait —she gasped—, hold on, let me… —She sat up, hiked her skirt to her waist, and sat back down on him, now with only a soaked white thong between them—. There. Much better.

Damián slid the fabric aside with one finger. She was open and dripping, with her swollen clit peeking out between reddened lips.

—Look at your cunt, Mom. You’re dripping on my pants.

—Secretary —she corrected in a whisper, biting her lip—, and stop looking and put your fingers in me. Put something in me, please.

He shoved two fingers inside her at once and she let out a rough cry. He worked them inside, curling them, searching for the right spot while his thumb drew circles on her clit. Lorena dug her nails into his shoulders and began fucking her son’s fingers, lifting and lowering her hips over his hand, with her tits bouncing in front of his face.

—Yes, yes, like that, don’t stop —she moaned—, make me come, son, make me come with your fingers before you put it in me.

Damián sped up. He pulled out his wet fingers and took them to his mouth, sucking them in front of her, tasting her slick. Then he slid them back in, three this time, fingering her hard until Lorena went rigid on top of him, her thighs tensing, and she came with a long moan, clawing at his neck, soaking his whole palm.

—Fuck, Mom —he murmured, looking at her face undone by pleasure—. I’ve never seen anyone come like that.

—Now you —she panted, still trembling—. Now pull it out and let me suck your cock.

***

She slid to the floor between his knees, blouse hanging open and tits out, and fumbled at his pants with eager hands. Damián’s cock sprang free, hard, thick, the tip shining with fluid. Lorena stared at it for a second, lips parted.

—God, son. What a beautiful cock you have.

—It’s yours, Mom. All yours.

She grabbed it by the base and ran her tongue from the balls to the tip, slowly, looking him in the eyes. Then she took it all the way into her mouth, deep, until she felt it knock against her throat. Damián let out a growl and rested a hand on the back of her neck.

—That’s it, Mom, suck it like that, fuck…

Lorena started sucking with hunger, bobbing her head up and down, making wet noises with her mouth, letting saliva run down her chin to her breasts. She took it out, licked his balls, took them into her mouth one by one, and then swallowed him again to the hilt. With her other hand she stroked the open cunt between her legs, rubbing her clit to the rhythm of her sucking.

—Look at me, Mom, look at me while you suck me —he asked, grabbing her hair—. I want to see your eyes.

She lifted her gaze without taking his cock out of her mouth, and that image —his mother on her knees, blouse open, tits out, painted lips wrapped around his dick— nearly made him come right then and there.

—Come here, stop, stop or it’ll slip out of me —he panted—. Get back on top of me.

***

He lifted her just enough to rip off her thong in one yank and guided her back astride him, holding her by the waist with both hands so she could set the pace. Lorena positioned her son’s cock at the entrance to her cunt, ran it a couple of times through her soaked lips to wet it well, and descended centimeter by centimeter, holding her breath, until she felt him all the way inside.

—God —she moaned, throwing her head back—. You’ve got me so full. It’s been so long since someone put one in me like this…

—Slowly —he said, gripping her ass cheeks with both hands—. We’ve got all morning. Fuck me slow first.

She started moving. At first carefully, like someone remembering a forgotten language, circling her hips, feeling him slide in and out millimeter by millimeter. Soon the rhythm broke loose. She grabbed the back of the sofa and started riding him recklessly, rising up until only the tip stayed in, then dropping down hard until she took him all the way in, again and again. Her tits bounced in front of Damián’s face, and he caught them in his mouth as they came within reach, sucking them whenever he could. The sofa creaked under the motion. The wet slap of Lorena’s cunt swallowing her son’s cock could be heard.

—Don’t stop —he asked, face buried between her breasts—. Keep going, keep riding me like that.

—Do you like how your secretary moves on your cock? —she asked, panting, rediscovering a shamelessness she had kept buried for decades—. Do you like how your mother’s cunt eats your dick?

—I fucking love it, don’t stop, don’t stop.

—Say it, tell me you like fucking your mother.

—I love fucking you, Mom. I love how this cunt squeezes my cock.

Lorena rode him until she was out of breath, her legs trembling, sweat shining between her breasts. When she felt he was close, she stopped him with a hand on his chest, rose, and turned around, offering herself from behind, leaning on the back of the sofa, ass up and skirt bunched at her waist.

—Like this —she said, looking back over her shoulder and spreading her ass cheeks with both hands—. Put it in me from behind. Ruin my cunt, son.

***

He stood behind her, grabbed his cock with one hand and rubbed it along her cunt lips and her asshole, wetting everything, before driving it in with one thrust to the hilt. Lorena let out a long, shameless moan that filled the empty house. Damián grabbed her hips and started fucking her hard, slamming against his mother’s ass, setting a brutal rhythm that made her dangling breasts tremble beneath her.

—Not so hard, son —she protested between gasps, though she pushed her ass back to take him deeper—, or I won’t even be able to walk afterward.

—You can take it —Damián replied, not letting up, giving her thigh an open-handed slap that left his handprint behind—. Look at your ass, Mom. You look twenty.

—It’s what you make me feel —she confessed, and the sentence undid her from the inside.

He took her hair gently, just enough to arch her back, and kept thrusting harder and harder. The blows of his pelvis against Lorena’s ass echoed through the whole living room, mixed with their moans and the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of her soaked cunt. Damián pulled out for a moment and ran his wet thumb over her tight asshole, pressing without entering. Lorena growled.

—Not there, not today, today just the cunt —she panted—. Back to the cunt, back, fuck me hard.

He obeyed and buried himself in her again, all the way to the balls. Lorena slid one hand between her legs and rubbed her clit to the rhythm of his thrusts, until the second orgasm ran through her from head to toe. Her cunt clamped down around Damián’s cock like a fist, and she had to bite the cushion to keep from screaming. Her thighs were dripping.

—I’m coming —he warned, voice breaking, balls already tightening—. Mom, I’m…

—Not here, not inside —she said, turning in time and kneeling before him with her mouth open and tongue out—. Give it to me here. On my face, on my tits, in my mouth, wherever you want. I’m your secretary, aren’t I? Then I’ll finish the job.

She grabbed his cock with both hands, slick with her own juices, and started jerking him fast, aiming him at her face, never taking her eyes off his. Every two or three strokes she took the tip into her mouth, sucking the head, then pulling it back out to keep pumping him. Damián held on a few seconds longer and exploded with a growl that seemed to empty him out completely. The first jet hit her cheek and painted lips; the second, her tongue; the rest, thick and hot, splashed across her hanging breasts. Lorena didn’t let go of his cock until she’d drawn out the last drop, which she wiped from her finger and brought to her mouth.

Afterward they sat in silence, her still kneeling on the cushions with her face and breasts soaked in semen, him sunk into the sofa, not quite sure what they had just done.

***

It was Lorena who broke the silence. She ran a finger along her cheek, gathering her son’s cum, and sucked it slowly. Then she stood, wiped her tits with the handkerchief she took from her purse, adjusted her skirt, and buttoned her blouse with a calm she hadn’t had half an hour earlier.

—Well —she said, gathering her hair in front of the mirror and touching up the red lipstick that had smeared—. Are we going to the office, or were you planning to keep me here all morning?

—You’re coming anyway? —he asked, incredulous—. After this?

—Of course. I’m your secretary, aren’t I? —She winked at him in the reflection—. And apparently the job includes emptying your balls. We negotiated that under a separate clause. And by the way, tomorrow you’re eating me out first. With that tongue of yours you’re going to make me see stars.

Damián laughed, still dazed, his cock starting to stir again in his pants while he searched for his keys.

—How long will it take you to find another Marta? —she asked, picking up her purse.

—If I’m lucky —he said—, I hope I never find one.

Lorena smiled to herself and opened the front door. That week, she decided, she was going to be the most efficient —and most fucked— secretary her son had ever had.