The app my brother-in-law used to strip me that afternoon

I don’t know when the idea occurred to me. I suppose it was out of curiosity to see the result, for the pleasure of telling Bruno afterward or, why deny it, for the thrill the situation gave me. Of all the fantasies my husband and I have shared over the years, none had ever included his brother or anyone that close. And yet, there I was sitting in the home office, with the afternoon fading and my mind clouded, finding the possibility of eroticizing my brother-in-law not all that unappealing. The fact that he was also a happily married man made it even more tempting.

—W-what? —Tomás stammered, his cheeks flushing red all at once.

—Don’t be silly. I’m not going to get angry if you make a very realistic touch-up, as you say the program can do. And that way I can see firsthand the quality of the work you offer.

I took the mouse from his hand and rummaged through my files for something that might do. It occurred to me that the company org-chart portrait would be perfect, so I opened it. I appeared from the waist up against a white background, and luckily that day I wasn’t wearing a loose shirt, which would make it easier for the app to distinguish textures and refine the silhouette.

—Here, try this one —I offered, handing him back the mouse.

Truthfully, it didn’t take much persuading. He opened the tool right away and got to work. He marked the whole outline of the clothes he wanted to erase and typed “female naked chest” into the assistant. We watched the progress bar until it reached the end, and there I was: naked and wearing a diplomatic smile, as if showing up to work like that were the most normal thing in the world.

—What do you think? —he whispered, barely audible, afraid of offending me.

—I think it didn’t get it right the first time, but I seem to remember it offered you more alternatives, didn’t it? —I encouraged him, pretending to be at ease to calm him down.

He opened the options panel and slowly scrolled through them, waiting for some comment.

—No. Neither that one. Not that. Meh. Yes, I like that one. No. Next. Noooo. This one! No, the one before. Stop! That one, that one!

We stopped at a pair of beautiful, lush breasts. Round, not too saggy, with an areola the same light brown as the nipples, which stood hard, as if the algorithm had decided to draw them already aroused. If I hadn’t been present during the process, I would have jumped at the sight of them, they were so convincing.

—This one? —he asked uncertainly, glancing back and forth between the screen and my T-shirt.

—Yes, why? —I shot back, missing the nuance.

—Nothing. I just don’t know if they’re the ones you have or the ones you’d like to have —he teased with a half-smile.

—You idiot! —I snapped, giving him a light punch on the shoulder—. Well, now you’re going to have to take my word for whether your product is amazing or whether you’re taking people for a ride.

—Okay, okay. Sorry. I’m an asshole, I shouldn’t have said that stupid thing.

—Not an asshole. An idiot. An idiot who makes exactly the same jokes as his brother the idiot.

—All right, don’t get mad, sister-in-law. I want to leave happy and grateful for the help.

—You’re leaving already? —I protested, and I heard a trace of disappointment in my own voice.

—Yeah, I’ve finished what I had to do. I don’t want to bother you any more.

—You’re also an idiot for thinking you’re bothering me. Bruno still has a couple of hours before he gets home from work. Come on, show me what else this program can do.

—More? What else do you want to see? —he said, surprised that it still seemed too little to me.

—I don’t know. We’ve seen it handles the upper half just fine. But how good is it with the lower half?

—No idea. I’ve never tried it.

—Oh, come on. Don’t lie to me.

—I swear. This is the second time in my life I’ve used AI to strip someone. The first was with the photos I showed you before, and as you saw, he always had his jeans on.

He’s nervous. He’s nervous and he’s not leaving. That thought heated me from within more than I expected. I felt the first wet throb between my legs and clamped my thighs together under the table, trying not to show it.

—Hang on, wait —I cut in, taking the mouse from him again—. Birthday, New Year’s Eve, vacations, country house… —I listed aloud the folders where there might be some useful image—. You do realize what would happen to you if you told a single soul about this, right?

—Yes. Don’t worry, this stays here. As soon as we’re done I’ll delete everything —he promised.

—Company dinner —I celebrated when I found the folder that promised the best options.

I went through the photos our boss’s hired photographer had taken until I found the perfect one for the test. In it, my colleague Andrés and I appeared side by side, both dressed to the nines, holding each other by the waist and looking straight ahead. Good light, lots of sharpness, full body, and not too much empty space around us.

—This will do —I concluded, pleased with the choice.

He got to work right away. It was crystal clear which of the two of us was more eager to see the result. He selected my dress, adjusted the outline and the drape of the fabric, typed “female full naked body,” and let the program work its magic. Before our eyes I appeared whole, from head to toe, with a resemblance that at first glance wasn’t bad at all. The breasts looked a lot like the ones in the previous image; I understood that the algorithm was learning from the earlier results. For the rest, I had to keep asking him to cycle through the suggestions until we found one that fit well, with a shaved pussy and the labia majora parting just enough to let the labia minora peek through timidly, a pink, glossy fold that, at the monitor’s resolution, almost looked wet.

—Well, yes. It does the bottom half pretty well too —I said to break a brief but awkward silence, and I noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.

—There we go —he managed to say, visibly shaken, one hand resting on his thigh as if trying to hide a bulge that was beginning to show under his shorts.

—Hey, but surely it’s not fair that you’re the only one enjoying the view, right?

—I just don’t have any photos of myself here, on the drive —he excused himself, red as a beet.

—Ha. No, I mean that, since we’re at it, you could put the guy on equal footing. That way we can also check whether your product works for everything.

The process was quick. This time the options revolved around the amount of body hair and, of course, the size and shape of the cock.

—This one —I finally chose.

I stopped on one that suddenly took me back to that morning at the beach last summer, when I saw him come out of the water almost by accident and felt a current I had spent months pretending not to feel. That marked bulge in the wet swimsuit that made me look away too late, badly, with a dry mouth.

—You like that one? —he asked, unaware that my choice wasn’t random.

—Yes —I nodded, with a knot of nerves at the remote possibility that he might suspect something.

—And here I thought you were clever. You picked the smallest one, huh?

—If I can choose, why settle for less? Besides, I did it for anatomical consistency. You know what they say about men’s height and proportions. Andrés is pretty tall.

—Oh, yeah? How tall is he? —he asked, with barely concealed curiosity.

—About six feet tall.

—Then I’m glad you believe in that theory, because I’m six-two —he said, proud.

—Oh, you show-off. Tell me what you’re bragging about… —I teased him, leaving the saying unfinished.

—I’m not showing off about anything —he defended himself, offended.

—All right. Prove it, then —I challenged him, finally looking him in the eye.

—W-what? —he stammered.

—Prove it to me. It’s only fair, isn’t it? You’ve already seen me naked, and that image is going to be burned into your brain forever. You won’t care much that they’re made-up pixels when you grab your cock tonight. That way we’re even.

—Let’s not overdo it. Seeing you naked is very relative, if you don’t mind me saying —he shot back, on the verge of tachycardia.

—It’s not my fault you don’t keep photos of yourself. Besides, what exactly are you so afraid of? Looking like a little liar?

—It’s not fear, it’s embarrassment. And there’s my brother. And Lucía…

—Now you’re worried about your brother and your wife? Are you going to tell me you didn’t enjoy stripping my photos? That you were only seeing zeros and ones? What difference is there between stripping me or any other girl whom, to top it off, you photographed in person? —I dismantled each one of his excuses.

—Of course I enjoyed it. There’s a perverse edge to the situation I can’t deny, but…

—But…?

—That, like it or not, I hadn’t thought about doing anything more than this.

—And if I’m the one asking you to? —I whispered.

—Asking me what.

—To show me what your retouching of my photos does to you. I want to see the cock you get when you imagine me without clothes.

—Nadia…

—Look, let’s make a deal. I’m going to lead you to the doorway of a place you could have reached on your own with a little curiosity. Once you’re there, you decide whether to go in or not. It won’t be free, but I promise it’s worth it.

I took the mouse again and navigated to Bruno’s documents. After several folders with deliberately boring names, meant to throw off nosy prying eyes, I reached one called like me. When I double-clicked, nine more opened, with titles as suggestive as they were descriptive: “Blindfolded,” “Blindfolded II,” “Lingerie,” “Bedrooms,” “Camping,” “Mirror,” and a few more. All the intimate photos my husband had taken of me since we were boyfriend and girlfriend, organized by theme.

—I’m offering you access to everything your brother has collected of me over the years. You can look as much as you want, for as long as you want. The only condition, before you open anything, is that you strip. Only fair, given I already know in advance how exposed I’m going to be. The other option is we pack this up and you leave, with no debts left between us, and I take a cold shower while I make dinner, pretending I haven’t spent the whole afternoon wanting something else.

Tomás finished his drink, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, like someone bracing before a leap he isn’t sure he’s ready to make. He looked at the screen, then at me, then at the mouse, which he snatched from me to set it on the desk. He stood up. For a second my desire read it as regret, until he took off his T-shirt and left it over the back of the chair. He hooked his thumbs into the elastic of his shorts and underwear and, with a little hop, let everything drop to the floor.

He hadn’t lied. Even at rest, lying against his thigh, it was imposing, confirming that in his case too height had something to do with the rest. A thick cock, veins mapped beneath the skin, hanging heavy over a pair of balls already pressed tight against his body. The head barely peeked from the opening of the foreskin, shiny, and everything about it was begging me to stop looking and start touching.

—Where do you want me to start? —I murmured, my voice trembling and not fully recognizable as my own.

I didn’t give him time to answer. I crossed the office, knelt between his legs, and wrapped my hand around his cock. I felt it swell against my palm in seconds, hardening in pulses, throbbing against my fingers as if it had a life of its own. I pulled back the foreskin slowly with my thumb, and the head emerged fully, purplish, swollen, with a drop of clear fluid already beading at the tip. I caught it with my tongue without taking my eyes off his.

—Fuck, Nadia… —he gasped, gripping the edge of the chair.

—Shut up —I whispered, and took him into my mouth.

I sucked him slowly at first, savoring every inch, letting the tip tap the roof of my mouth before taking him down to the middle. Then I sped up. I sealed my lips tightly around his shaft and started bobbing my head up and down in rhythm, using my hand at the base while my other hand caressed his balls, weighing them, tugging them gently. Tomás put a hand on the back of my neck without pressing, letting me set the pace. Saliva started to run from the corner of my mouth, sliding down my chin and dripping onto his thighs. Every time I pulled him all the way out, his cock gleamed under the desk lamp, hard as stone, marked with thick veins.

—If you keep this up, I’m going to come right now —he warned, his voice broken.

—Not yet —I told him, letting it fall against his belly with a wet slap.

I stood up, pulled my T-shirt over my head, and unclipped my bra. My breasts bounced free, much smaller than the ones the AI had put on me a little earlier, but his eyes went to them as if they were the best in the world. He stood and grabbed them with both hands, pinched my nipples until they hardened, then bent down to suck on them, biting them carefully, tugging them with his teeth. I had his cock pressed against my belly, wetting my skin with saliva and precum.

—Take my pants off —I asked in his ear.

He fumbled the button on my jeans and pulled them down along with my panties. When the cotton peeled away from my cunt I felt the sticky thread that had formed between the fabric and my lips, and he saw it too. Without saying a word, he turned me against the table, gave me a gentle push so I’d brace my palms on the wood, and spread my legs with his knee. He knelt behind me and buried his face between my cheeks, finding my cunt with his tongue from behind.

—Oh, fuck… —escaped me when I felt his tongue part my lips and climb to my clit.

He ate my pussy slowly, savoring it all, licking me from top to bottom, pushing his tongue deep inside me and pulling it back out to play with my clit in circles again. I clenched my teeth so I wouldn’t scream, moving my ass against his face, rubbing myself shamelessly. When he slid in two fingers and started moving them upward, searching for that spot inside me, without stopping sucking my clit, my legs began to shake and I let out a long moan that burst from my throat without permission.

—Fuck me already —I begged him, too weak to hold out any longer.

He stood behind me. I felt his cock press against my ass first, slide down to the slit of my pussy, soak there, and search for the entrance. The tip settled exactly where it needed to, and with a firm thrust it sank all the way in. I screamed against my forearm, more from surprise than pain. It was thick, much thicker than I was used to, and it filled me completely in one shot.

—Are you okay? —he asked, still, letting me get used to it.

—Move. Fuck me hard —I answered, and pushed my ass back at him.

He started fucking me slowly, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, each thrust hitting my ass with a dull slap. Then he picked up the pace. He grabbed my hips with both hands and started pumping relentlessly, his cock going in and out of my drenched pussy, making a wet sound every time he sank to the hilt. I had my cheek pressed against the table, my breasts flattened against the wood, and I was only able to moan with my mouth open while my brother-in-law fucked me in the very office where his brother had taken me so many nights.

—Lie on your back —I told him when I managed to catch my breath for a moment.

He lay down on the rug and I climbed on top of him. I grabbed his cock, positioned it at my entrance, and sank down slowly, feeling every vein, every millimeter opening me from within. When I had him all the way inside, I stayed still, bracing my hands on his chest, and started moving in circles, rubbing my clit against his pubic bone. Then I leaned back, supporting myself on his thighs, and began to rise and fall. My breasts bounced with every stroke, and he watched me, hypnotized, grabbing them, squeezing them, still unable to believe where he was and who he was with.

—I’m going to fill you up —he panted, gripping my hips harder.

—Not inside —I warned, without stopping riding him—. When you’re about to come, warn me.

He changed his mind then and laid me beneath him on the rug, spread my legs wide, and fucked me again. This time he took me looking me in the eye, supported on his elbows, his mouth inches from mine, never quite kissing me, not daring to go that far yet. Each thrust ripped a new moan from me, sharper this time, and I dug my nails into his back, hooked my legs around his waist so he could sink deeper, so I could have all of him inside.

—Now, now… —he warned after a few minutes, his voice cut short.

He pulled out in time, knelt between my spread legs, and grabbed his cock with his hand. I lowered my own hand and rubbed my clit fast, not taking my eyes off him as he masturbated above my belly. First I saw his balls tighten, then his cock grow even harder, and the first jet of semen fell hot between my breasts. The second hit my neck, the third spilled over my navel, thick, white, much more than I expected. I came too, with my fingers soaked and my cunt clenching around nothing, moaning long while I felt the semen sliding toward my sides.

He collapsed beside me, panting, his cock still hard and resting on his thigh. We looked at each other, and for the first time all afternoon neither of us knew what to say. Then I started laughing, and he laughed with me, that nervous laugh that comes when there’s no turning back.

What came after that no artificial intelligence had ever learned: I taught it to him, slowly, while the clock ran toward ten and the two of us both knew neither of us was going to delete anything when we were done.

That night, when Bruno came home and asked how my afternoon had been, I told him his brother had stopped by to ask me a favor with a work program. And I wasn’t lying. I just left out who had ended up doing the favor for whom.