My Stepmother’s Brother Couldn’t Stop Looking at Me

I’m telling it exactly as it happened, no embellishment. I was always aware of how men looked at me, and it never bothered me: fair skin, green eyes, black hair down to the middle of my back, and a body that exercise kept firm where it needed to be. I walked down the street and felt their gazes sticking to me like shadows. I didn’t avoid it. I liked it.

Back then I spent some weekends at my father’s house. He traveled a lot for work, so half the time I’d arrive and the house would be occupied only by his wife, Carmen, and my younger half-siblings. Carmen and I never really got along, and what I’m about to tell ended up breaking whatever might have been left between us.

The reason had a name: Andrés, Carmen’s brother. He was twenty-four, a few years older than me, and when he stayed over at the house nobody thought anything strange. He was family, after all.

Andrés was neither handsome nor ugly, right in that middle ground that goes unnoticed. We’d known each other for years, ever since his sister married my father, and at first it was a completely normal relationship. But I grew up, my body changed, and one day I noticed the way he looked at me was no longer the same. I wasn’t exactly a saint either: I knew perfectly well what I provoked, and I enjoyed provoking it.

At that age I loved showing myself off. Short, tight dresses, tops without a bra, pajamas that looked like lingerie. Outside or at home, it made no difference. My father didn’t like me walking around the house like that, but my father was almost never there.

***

It all started during summer vacation. Andrés came to sleep over one night without my knowing it, locked away in my room. The next morning I went down to the kitchen as usual, wearing a thin-strapped tank top with nothing underneath and lace shorts that sat halfway up my ass. I thought I was alone.

I wasn’t. Andrés was sitting at the dining table, and when I went into the kitchen to get breakfast, I felt his gaze rake over me from head to toe. I turned slowly and there he was, mouth slightly open, taking me in from my feet to my face without the slightest attempt to hide it.

—Hi, Andrés —I said, as if nothing.

—Hi... —he answered, and his voice almost wouldn’t come out.

—What a miracle to see you around here.

—Same as always —he replied, pretending to smile calmly, though he didn’t even believe it himself.

I kept making breakfast, feeling his eyes nailed to my back, my waist, lower. It didn’t bother me. On the contrary: it boosted my ego to know a man could be rendered speechless just by watching me walk into a kitchen. I sat down across from him, he asked me meaningless things, and I answered while catching him looking me over out of the corner of his eye again and again.

When I stood up from the chair, I adjusted my shorts and lowered one strap of my tank top a little, just enough for him to see more than he was already seeing. It worked. He was left dazed, and I just smiled at him with every intention in the world.

***

Later, while I was hanging the laundry in the patio, I had him behind me again. He couldn’t take his eyes off me, not even when I hung up my own underwear to dry. He came closer.

—Need a hand? —he offered.

—No, thanks.

He kept staring at me.

—What are you staring at? —I snapped.

—Nothing. Is the water very cold?

—Why do you ask?

—Just because. Look at yourself.

He pointed at my chest. Because of the cold water, my nipples were showing through the thin fabric, and without a bra there was no way to hide it. I covered myself with a smile.

—You’re bold, Andrés.

—It’s not my fault you’ve got that and don’t wear a bra.

—Sure, because all you do is stare at me. You think I don’t notice?

—It’s just that you’re already a woman —he said, lowering his voice—. A woman like that is hard not to look at.

I blushed, but not from embarrassment. As I finished hanging the clothes, he positioned himself behind me, grabbed me by the waist, and tried to kiss my neck. Instead of pulling away, I leaned back a little and brushed my ass against him. I felt how hard he was. This is going to end badly, I thought, and I liked the idea.

***

From that day on, every time we were alone together, Andrés never missed the chance. He’d trail his hand down my back to the end, give me a squeeze, whisper things in my ear. “What legs,” “what lips,” “I want a girlfriend like you.” I looked at him, bit my lip, and let him keep going. The tension between us could have been cut with a knife.

One day I put on cycling tights so tight everything showed, with a bra-less top. Andrés stared at my crotch without bothering to hide it.

—What are you looking at, dummy? —I said, laughing.

—What you’re showing —he answered, pointing with his finger.

—There you go again.

I looked down and, sure enough, the tights left nothing to the imagination. I got nervous and, at the same time, turned on.

—That’s how I like you —he murmured—. Dress like that and you’re asking for it. You’re to die for.

—You probably say that to all of them. Show some respect.

I went to my room and locked myself in for a good while, until Carmen called us to lunch. At the table, Andrés couldn’t stop looking at me and trying not to laugh, and in the end he got me laughing too. Carmen noticed. She noticed too much.

—You two are so quiet. Say something —she commented, watching us with one eyebrow raised.

—I’m going to take the kids to the park for a while —she added after a moment—. I’ll be a while. Are you coming?

—No, I’m lazy, I’m going to lie down and sleep —I said.

—I have to finish a university assignment —Andrés excused himself.

Carmen hesitated. I’m sure she already suspected something, but in the end she left with the kids. And we were alone in the house.

***

I slept a little over an hour and went down to the living room. Andrés was watching TV, and when he saw me appear his face lit up. I sat on the sofa, a little apart, but neither of us could stop looking at the other. The attraction was impossible to hide now.

He moved closer slowly. First he brushed my arm, then my back, then started tickling me, and with that excuse he slid his hands up to my breasts.

—Stop, that hurts —I protested half-heartedly, covering myself—. What are you staring at?

—Nothing.

—Yeah, sure. I’m telling Carmen.

—Go ahead —he answered, still smiling.

But he didn’t stop. He was caressing my thighs shamelessly, and every touch sent a current straight to the center of my body. I watched him while he touched himself over his pants, and the image finished setting me on fire. My nipples were hard and I could feel the dampness growing between my legs.

—What color is the one you’re wearing? —he asked—. Since you’re not wearing a bra, maybe you’re not wearing anything underneath either.

—Why do you care?

—Curiosity. Everything shows. Pull your tights down a bit, let me see it.

I pulled them down just a finger’s width, enough to show him the lace edge.

—Happy now? —I said.

—What I want is to take them off you.

I looked at him, laughed, licked my lips.

—Oh, yeah? Then take them off me.

He didn’t wait any longer. He put one hand on my thigh and the other on my breast and kissed me. I kissed him back, biting his lip. With his free hand he started stroking me over the fabric of my tights, right on the exact spot, and I tilted my hips forward to feel it better.

—You like it like that? —he asked.

I answered yes only with my eyes. I was so wet the fabric had soaked through. He slid one strap of my top down, uncovered a breast, and took it into his mouth. We were right in the middle of it when the door opened.

***

It was Carmen, coming back with the kids. I jumped away and covered myself as best I could, but she stood in the doorway, looking at us.

—What’s going on here? —she asked.

—Nothing —we both said, too quickly.

I was flushed, red, unable to hide it. If Carmen had taken five more minutes, we would have ended up on the sofa in my father’s house. I stayed seated for a long while and then went up to my room. My tights were soaked, as if I’d wet myself. It wasn’t the first time it had happened to me; it only took a little touching.

That night it couldn’t happen, but the decision had already been made on both sides. Andrés wanted me and I wanted him, and it was only a matter of finding the moment.

***

The moment came the following night. I waited until Carmen was asleep, put on a short, loose pajama set with nothing underneath, and went down to the living room. Andrés was still awake in front of the television. My heart was beating like a drum and I had that hollow feeling in my stomach you get when you’re about to do something you know you shouldn’t. I sat beside him.

—Hi, Andrés —I said, in the lowest voice I could manage.

—Hi —he answered, taking me in from top to bottom.

—What are you doing?

—Watching a movie. You look really pretty in that pajama set.

I lifted my legs onto the sofa and, slowly, spread them open, letting him see I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. He caught his breath. I got up and walked toward the kitchen; he followed instantly. He grabbed my hand, pressed me against the fridge, and kissed me, slipping me his tongue, biting my lips while I did the same.

—Let me see —he asked me.

He lifted the thin fabric of my pajamas and started stroking me with his thumb while kissing my neck. I was already ready; I had been all day. He pulled my straps down, uncovered my breasts, and spent time on them as if he had all the time in the world. Then he turned me against the fridge, gave me a slap, and took my hand to lead me to his room, which was on the ground floor, far from Carmen’s.

We went in and I ripped off my pajamas. I was ready for anything. I pushed him onto the bed and positioned myself on top of him the other way around, so I could have him while he had me, and neither of us was left wanting. Then I straddled him and rode him, moving my hips the way I knew how, biting my hand so I wouldn’t moan out loud. The house was silent, and silence was the only thing protecting us.

After that he put me face down and held me by the hips, and he had to cover my mouth with his hand so no sound would escape me. I was trembling all over and he never got tired. It was an entire night of starting, stopping to listen, and starting again.

***

From then on, whenever I went to my father’s house and Carmen wasn’t there, we took advantage of it. I played hard to get by day and went down to his room at night. That went on until one morning Carmen found us asleep, naked, with no way to invent any excuse. I think she’d known for a long time and was only waiting for proof.

From that day on, things with her changed completely. I told my father I preferred to stay at my grandmother’s house, which worked out beautifully for me: Andrés started coming to see me there at night, where nobody watched us.

Carmen never told my father anything. She knew that if he found out his brother-in-law was fooling around with his daughter, things would end very badly for Andrés. So she kept it to herself, and we kept doing our thing for quite a while longer.

And that’s how my stepmother’s brother made it onto the list of things I confess and would do again without thinking twice.