My Boyfriend Didn’t Know His Nephew Was Watching Us

Andrés and I had been on vacation for almost two weeks when his sister Carolina asked us for a favor. She and her husband were going to Cantabria with the kids, and someone had to water the plants and make sure the pool didn’t fill up with leaves. She offered us the chalet in the mountains in exchange. I agreed before she finished the sentence.

It was an absurdly large house for two people, with a garden, a pool, an open kitchen onto the porch, and a master bedroom that looked like it had been pulled straight out of a magazine. We arrived on Friday afternoon, unloaded the bags, and before I’d even unpacked we were already in the water.

Those first few days were a private party. We ate when we were hungry, slept late, lit the barbecue for any excuse. And, most importantly, we got used to being naked. At first it was by chance—a towel that slipped, a nighttime swim without a suit—but by the second day we were already not bothering to get dressed until lunchtime. We fucked anywhere: on the garden lounger with Andrés taking me from behind while I clung to the metal legs, in the kitchen with my ass braced on the cold marble and his fingers soaked with me, on the living room floor after lunch with his cock still hard from the nap. No one could see us. The chalet sat at the top of an empty development in August, surrounded by pine trees. The only things you could hear were the cicadas and, sometimes, my screams.

On Sunday morning, Carolina texted to warn us. “Bruno is arriving this afternoon, is that okay? He’s leaving early tomorrow for Tarifa with his friends.” Bruno was her nephew, the eldest brother’s son. He was twenty-two, studying architecture, and I had liked him the few times we’d crossed paths at family birthdays. He was shy, spoke little, and laughed with his eyes before his mouth.

“He’ll get there around nine,” Andrés said, looking at his phone. “You okay with that?”

“Yeah, of course. Where do we put him?”

“In the back room. The one with the small bathroom.”

When Bruno showed up, with the sun already low, he had a small backpack and a bag with a couple of beers to share. His hair was longer than I remembered, tousled from the trip, and he was wearing a white T-shirt that clung to his shoulders in the heat. He gave me two awkward kisses and never quite managed to look me in the eye during dinner.

We ate frozen pizza and drank the beers on the porch. Andrés and Bruno talked about cars, about the Erasmus scholarship Bruno had applied for in Lisbon, about a cousin getting married in the autumn. I listened more than I spoke. Every so often I caught Bruno glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, but he’d look away immediately, pretending to be interested in a moth or in the bottom of his glass. I was wearing a short dress with thin straps, no bra, and I knew perfectly well that every time I leaned over to take a slice of pizza my nipples showed through the fabric. I didn’t avoid it. On the contrary. I stretched a couple of times, knowing he was watching.

At eleven, Bruno yawned and stood up.

“I’m going to turn in, I’m leaving at six tomorrow.”

“Good night, handsome,” I said, and regretted the “handsome” the second it left my mouth. It wasn’t intentional. Or maybe it was.

***

Andrés and I cleared the plates slowly. He slid a hand over my hip while I rinsed a glass, slipped it under my dress, and squeezed my naked ass with his five fingers spread wide. I dropped the glass in the sink and braced myself against the counter. His hand was already between my legs, finding me wet before we’d even started.

“You’re dripping,” he murmured against my neck.

“I’ve been like this all through dinner.”

“Dirty girl.”

He pressed against me from behind and I felt his hard cock pushing at my ass over his shorts. I knew exactly how the night was going to end.

“The jacuzzi,” he murmured against my neck.

The master bedroom had a bathroom worth envying. Big tub, massage column, almost an entire wall of glass facing the upper terrace. That terrace connected all the rooms on the upper floor, but at that hour the other doors were closed. Bruno’s, at the end of the hall, had been dark for a while.

We filled the tub, added salts, and switched on the whirlpool motor. The sound was constant, a deep purring that covered any other noise. Andrés was already inside when I let my hair down and dropped my robe. He looked at me from the water, with his cock peeking out between the bubbles, stiff and waiting. I got in facing him, with my back to him, and he wrapped both arms around my waist.

“Do you think he’s asleep?” I asked softly.

“Definitely. He’s been driving for hours.”

He started gently. His mouth on my neck, his hands moving up my ribs until he found my breasts. He held them, played with my nipples between his fingers, tugging at them until it hurt, twisting them with the pads of his thumb and forefinger until a gasp slipped out of me. I arched my back against him until I could feel how badly he wanted me. His cock dug into the small of my back, hard as stone under the hot water. I took one hand behind me, under the water, and found him. He was rock hard, burning. I closed my fist around him and squeezed slowly, measuring every centimeter as if it were the first time. I ran my thumb over the head and felt a spasm escape him.

Andrés answered by sliding one hand down my stomach. He ran his fingers between my thighs, parted the lips of my cunt with his index and middle fingers, and slowly started searching for the clit that was already swollen and waiting for him. When he found it, he drew small circles, unhurriedly, pressing a little harder each time, and slid one finger inside me. Then two. He curled them upward, searching for that spot deep inside me that he knew by heart, and started pumping slowly while his thumb kept moving over my clit. I dropped my head onto his shoulder and let out a moan that escaped louder than I wanted. My legs opened on their own. He took advantage of it to slip in a third finger and I bit my lip to keep from crying out.

“Shhh.”

“Sorry.”

“You like it like this, dirty girl?”

“More. Harder.”

He turned me around against him without taking his fingers out. I looked him in the eye for a second, mouth open and breath ragged, and then I rose up over him. I braced my knees on the inner edges of the tub and took his cock in my hand to line it up. I brushed it over the lips of my cunt a couple of times, soaking it, and sank down slowly, feeling it enter, feeling it fill me centimeter by centimeter until it hit bottom. I let all the air out in one rush when I felt him fully inside me. I stayed still for a few seconds, the two of us breathing into each other’s mouths, his cock buried to the hilt and my cunt walls clenching around it on their own.

From that position, on top of him, I was looking straight toward the bathroom door. It was wide open. It led out to the upper terrace, and beyond that you could see the clear sky, moonless, with the kind of stars you only see when you’re far from the city. I started moving. Slowly at first, setting the rhythm with my hips, rising until only the head stayed inside him and dropping hard until I swallowed him whole. Feeling him inside while I looked at that sky was a strange thing, like I was fucking in the middle of an open cathedral.

And then I saw him.

A shadow to the left of the doorframe. Still, pressed against the outside wall of the terrace. It took me two seconds to understand what it was, and two more to make out Bruno’s crouched silhouette, with his knees bent and his back against the wall.

I didn’t stop. I don’t know why. Something in my head said, “don’t speed up or slow down, keep exactly the same,” and that’s what I did. I kept moving on Andrés at the same rhythm, feeling myself getting closer, feeling his cock scrape inside me with every drop, while at the same time I tried to make out better what my nephew was doing.

Bruno had come in his underwear, nothing else. One hand was at his crotch, over the fabric, and he was stroking himself slowly while staring inside. The hard bulge was visible against his briefs. It was obvious he wasn’t expecting me to look up at that moment. His head was tilted slightly so he wouldn’t lose the angle through the door.

Andrés couldn’t see anything. His eyes were closed, focused on his own pleasure, his hands firm on my hips, setting the pace, pushing me against him with each descent. And I, on top of him, held the boy’s gaze from the terrace without him realizing I’d already caught him. I arched a little more, pushed my chest out, let my nipples harden above the water. For him. So he could see them properly.

“Stop,” I whispered.

Andrés opened his eyes.

“What?”

“Nothing. I want to suck you.”

I got off him, feeling his cock slide out of me with a wet sound. Andrés sat up, rising until he was standing in the water, and came to the edge of the tub with his dick aimed at my face, shining, soaked with me. I knelt between his legs and held out my hand for it. He held it a handspan from my face and I took it with two fingers, as if I were borrowing it, and stuck out my tongue to lick it from base to tip very slowly, sucking his balls first, then moving up the shaft with my mouth open until I reached the head and took him all in at once.

The position was perfect. From where I was now, kneeling in front of Andrés, my face was pointing almost exactly toward the door. If Bruno looked at me—and he was looking at me, I knew it—he could see me in profile, mouth full of cock and my breasts hanging over the water, swaying with every thrust.

I felt Andrés put a hand on the back of my neck. I started moving back and forth, licking the head on every rise, swallowing him whole on every drop until I could feel the tip bumping the back of my throat. I sucked hard, making noise on purpose, letting saliva escape from the corners of my mouth and run down my chin to my breasts. Every four or five strokes I pulled him out of my mouth to spit on him, to lick his balls, to run the tip of my tongue along the frenulum. I closed my eyes a couple of times so I wouldn’t look too obvious, but every time I opened them I checked that the boy was still there.

Bruno had lowered his underwear. Now I could see everything—he was hard, bigger than I’d imagined, curved slightly upward—and he was masturbating without hiding it, leaning against the terrace wall with one leg bent. He was working himself with a clenched hand, pumping at the same pace that I was sucking his uncle. I focused on keeping the rhythm with my mouth and on not changing my face so Andrés wouldn’t notice anything. I slipped my free hand between my legs and started touching my clit under the water. I needed to come too.

Let him enjoy it, I thought. Let him remember this night for the rest of the summer. Let him come thinking of me all the way to Tarifa.

I picked up the pace. I took him to the back of my throat, holding back the gag reflex, and started pumping with my mouth faster and faster. Andrés began moving against me, marking the end with every thrust, fucking my mouth without asking permission. I let myself go. The fingers between my legs were moving like crazy, and I felt the orgasm start climbing from the base of my spine. When he was already a couple of breaths from coming, he pulled his cock out of my mouth, grabbed it with his hand, and jerked himself two centimeters from my face. He finished over me. I felt the hot spurts come in bursts: the first hit my cheek, the second crossed from the corner of my mouth to my eye, the third landed on my neck and collarbones. Some of it slipped between my breasts and fell into the water. I came at that exact same moment, squeezing my thighs around my own hand, swallowing the moan so it wouldn’t come out all the way.

I didn’t clean myself right away. I stayed like that for a second, my face covered in cum, my head slightly raised and my eyes open, my tongue still out catching what had landed near my mouth. And then, slowly, I turned my face toward the bathroom door.

Bruno and I met eyes for the first time. He was coming at that moment. I saw him tense up completely, fight to hold back with his teeth clenched, and he pulled a sock out of his pocket in a hurry to finish inside it. I saw his cock throb two, three times in his fist before he managed to cover it with the fabric. His eyes never left mine for a single second.

I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t offended either. I smiled at him very slowly, almost imperceptibly, with his uncle’s cum still dripping down my chin, and I winked. Then I stuck out my tongue, ran a finger over my cheek to gather some of the semen, and put it in my mouth, sucking it down completely. For him.

***

Andrés sat back down in the tub, exhausted, with his head resting on the edge and his breathing ragged. He had no idea what had just happened three meters away from him.

“Fuck,” he said.

“Yeah, fuck,” I repeated.

I looked back at the terrace. Bruno had stood up. He pulled his underwear back on with the sock still in his hand, and stood there one second longer staring at me through the glass, no longer hiding. He lifted two fingers to his lips and blew me a kiss. Then he turned and disappeared down the hall, barefoot, making no sound.

“What are you looking at?” Andrés asked.

“A shooting star. I think.”

“Make a wish.”

“I already did.”

We got out of the water. I dried myself slowly, trying not to show anything on my face. Andrés had that stupid little smile afterward, and he kissed my temple before getting into bed. I stayed in the bathroom one minute longer, looking at the open door, the empty terrace, the sky still untouched.

When I lay down, Andrés was almost asleep. He hugged me from behind, slipped an arm around my waist, buried his nose in my hair, and disconnected from the world in less than a minute.

I stayed awake for a long while. Thinking about whether Bruno was asleep or whether he was still staring at the ceiling of his room with his cock hard again, replaying it. Thinking about how easy it had been to hold his gaze with my mouth full. Thinking about what I still hadn’t admitted to myself: that when I saw him crouched on the terrace I didn’t speed up out of fear of being caught, but because I liked it. I liked knowing he was there. I liked fucking him too, with my eyes, while his uncle fucked me.

The next morning, at six-thirty, I heard a car engine in the driveway. I leaned out the window half asleep and saw Bruno loading his backpack into the trunk of a friend’s car who had come to pick him up. Before getting in, he looked up toward the master bedroom window. He knew exactly where to look.

He saw me. He raised his hand. I raised mine.

Then the car started and disappeared down the street, toward the highway, toward the beach, toward a trip I was never going to hear anything about. But that image of him on the terrace, crouched down, with his hard cock in his hand and his eyes fixed on my mouth full of cock, had already settled in to live with me.