What Happened in the Locker Room After the Game

The January afternoon came down like a hot iron over the neighborhood. The sun hit from the side, the air smelled of dry earth and scorched grass, and the little field at the back of the club still held the dust kicked up by the match. It had been a beautiful mess: bicycle-kick goals, painful kicks, shouted curses, and a draw in the end that left everyone with hot blood. Bruno, Daiana’s brother, had scored two and felt like he owned the world. His three inseparables—the Fat Guy Damián, Bald Nico, and Dark-skinned Kevin—had also played like animals. The four of them had been the backbone of the team since they were kids.

Daiana was nineteen and had a body nobody could just ignore. She was fat, the kind that fills out clothes: heavy tits that strained any bra, a wide waist, a soft belly peeking over her shorts, and a round ass that moved on its own when she walked. It had been about eight months since anyone had touched her. The last guy she’d been with dumped her for some skinny girl from downtown who, according to him, “had more vibe.” Since then she’d carried a fire inside her that no cold shower could put out. Every night she touched herself imagining someone finally fucking her properly, but nothing. Until that day.

She’d gone to the match in a tight white T-shirt, without a bra because the heat was unbearable, and short denim shorts that showed everything. Sweat glued the fabric to her skin and her tits bounced freely with every step. The guys kept glancing at her between plays, and she knew it. She liked being looked at, being desired, wanting to be touched.

When the final whistle blew, Bruno shouted to her from midfield:

—Head home, we’re wrecked and we’re going to change.

But Daiana didn’t leave. She kept hanging around near the shed, that sheet-metal-and-wood structure that served as the locker room: a long cement bench, two showers with loose taps, a couple of plastic stools, and the smell of old sweat mixed with cheap deodorant. Bruno saw she wasn’t moving and snapped at her, annoyed:

—Wait outside, don’t be a pain.

Right then, the Fat Guy Damián came out first, with a towel tied around his waist, his chest wet and his belly hanging. He sized her up and grinned slyly.

—Hey, Daiana… want a cold beer? I’ve got some in the cooler.

She went in acting like she only wanted to sit down for a while. The other two were already inside: Bald Nico, skinny, tattooed up to his neck, drying his head with an old T-shirt; and Dark-skinned Kevin, broad-shouldered, with a bulge clearly visible under his towel. Bruno, annoyed, muttered something about “going to buy cigarettes” and took off for the corner, leaving her alone with the three of them.

The air changed in seconds.

The Fat Guy moved in first. He yanked off his towel and stood there bare, thick and veined, already half-hard from the heat and the adrenaline.

—Look at those tits, chubby girl… your nipples show through the wet shirt.

Daiana bit her lip, her heart pounding between her legs. She didn’t say a word, just opened her thighs a little on the bench. Bald Nico let out a low laugh.

—She wants it, huh. Look how she’s breathing.

Dark-skinned Kevin went straight for it. He stood in front of her, grabbed one tit full-handed, and squeezed.

—How long has it been since someone fucked you properly? Because it shows on your face.

She let out a short moan.

—A long time… too long.

That was all they needed. The Fat Guy grabbed her by the nape and shoved his cock into her mouth without warning.

—Open wide. Suck it properly.

Daiana obeyed. She took him all the way in, her tongue tracing the veins, saliva dripping down her chin. Meanwhile, Bald Nico lifted her shirt and pulled her tits out. They were huge, with big dark nipples, already hard as stones. He pinched them, sucked them, bit them until they turned red.

Dark-skinned Kevin yanked down her shorts and panties in one pull. She was soaked, her lips swollen, everything throbbing.

—Look how wet this one is… she’s on fire.

He shoved three fingers in at once and worked them around inside, making noise. Daiana moaned with her mouth full, tears in her eyes.

—Fuck me… please… hard…

***

They put her on all fours over the cement bench. Dark-skinned Kevin knelt behind her, spat, and drove into her to the hilt in one push.

—There. I’m opening you up right away.

He hammered into her without mercy, Daiana’s belly trembling with each удар, her tits hanging down and bumping together. Bald Nico shoved his cock into her mouth and fucked it like another hole, grabbing her hair, pushing until her throat closed up.

The Fat Guy lay down underneath, sucked her tits, bit them, slid a hand between her legs and rubbed her clit while Dark-skinned Kevin speared her from behind. Daiana was on another planet, moaning, drooling, her whole body shaking.

—More… give me more… —she begged, voice breaking.

Dark-skinned Kevin pulled out and aimed higher. He spat several times, pried her open with his fingers.

—Relax, this one’s going in too.

He pushed in slowly at first. Daiana screamed, but she didn’t complain. She wanted to feel everything. When the head went in, the other one shoved hard and sank in all the way.

—So tight, for fuck’s sake.

Then they bent her over two at once: Bald Nico in front, long and curved, brushing a spot that made her scream; Dark-skinned Kevin behind, thick, the two of them separated by a thin wall. Daiana felt like they were splitting her in half. She cried, but for a different reason: pleasure so intense it brushed against pain, and pain mixing with pleasure until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

—I’m coming… I’m coming… —she warned, gasping.

She came out screaming, her body convulsing, her legs going weak, completely overpowered. The guys didn’t let up. They switched again, traded places, slapped her ass until it was marked, pinched her tits, whispered in her ear. Daiana lost count of how many times she came. Everything shook, burned everywhere, swollen.

In the end Dark-skinned Kevin couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled his cock from her mouth and finished on her face, thick hot ropes landing in her eyes, on her nose, in her open mouth. Bald Nico came over her tits and smeared the cum around with his hands like it was cream. The Fat Guy, last, grunting, finished inside her until it dripped down her thighs.

They were all four left panting, the smell of sex stuck to the sheet-metal walls. Daiana could barely move. She dressed as best she could: shorts twisted, shirt stained, walking like she had a stick shoved up her ass.

Right then Bruno came back with the pack of cigarettes in his hand. He saw her staggering out, hair a mess, face shining. He looked inside and saw his three friends with satisfied faces.

—What the fuck is this? —he yelled, red with rage—. You let the three of them fuck you? In the club shed?

She didn’t answer, just lowered her gaze, still trembling. Bruno grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the street, cursing at her the whole way. Daiana walked slowly, each step hurt and felt good at the same time, and inside she was smiling: her body satisfied for the first time in months.

***

They got home when it was already dark. The sheet-metal door creaked open and inside the old woman, Doña Susana, was sitting in the kitchen with bitter mate and the radio on low. It smelled like lunchtime frying and bleach. When she saw them come in like that, with Daiana walking like a duck, the old woman frowned.

—What happened, Bruno? Why are you bringing your sister in here like a bus ran over her?

Bruno let her go with a shove and stood in the doorway to the dining room.

—She was acting easy, Mom. She let my three friends fuck her in the club shed after the match. All three, you understand? Look how she walks.

Doña Susana looked her daughter up and down. Daiana stood there, shorts twisted, little T-shirt clinging to her body, tits rising and falling with her quick breathing. The old woman sighed deeply, turned off the radio, and motioned for her to sit on the old living room couch.

—Come on, sit down. And tell me yourself. I don’t want this hothead telling me.

Daiana sank onto the couch with a groan. She bit her lip, embarrassed, but still feeling that tingling inside.

—Mom… I don’t know how it happened. I was watching the match and then I went into the shed because Bruno went to buy cigarettes. The guys were changing, sweaty, looking at me like they wanted me. I had a fire inside, no one had touched me in months. And then they came at me.

Doña Susana sat beside her and put a hand on her knee.

—Go on, daughter. No beating around the bush.

Daiana swallowed, her face red.

—First the Fat Guy put it in my mouth. Bald Nico took my tits out and bit them. Dark-skinned Kevin pulled down my shorts and put his fingers in me. Then they put me on all fours on the bench… they fucked me all over, Mom. They did everything to me. I was embarrassed when they said things to me, but at the same time it made me hotter.

The old woman stroked her hair, without judging her.

—And did you enjoy it?

—Yes… it hurt, but I liked it. Nobody had ever fucked me that hard. I came a ton of times. In the end the three of them came and… —she stopped, covering her face.

Doña Susana stood up, went to the kitchen, and came back with a glass of cold water. She handed it to her and sat down again.

—Look, daughter. Those boys after a match are hot as hell, blood boiling, sweaty, thinking about girls the whole time. And a woman like you, with those tits and that ass, some of them will fuck you extra hard. It doesn’t mean you’re bad. It’s just that when they’re like that, they go too far. But if you enjoyed it, don’t make yourself crazy.

Daiana nodded slowly, with a tiny smile.

—Your brother’s mad because they’re his friends and he feels betrayed, but he’ll get over it —the old woman went on—. Go take a shower, wash up good because you must be swollen. And next time, if you’re going to be like that, at least bring them home, and I’ll pretend not to notice and I’ll watch the door for you.

Daiana laughed softly, still sore but relieved. She got up carefully and walked slowly toward the bathroom while Doña Susana turned the radio back on and kept drinking mate as if nothing had happened.

Bruno, from his room, kept cursing to himself, but nobody cared anymore. In that neighborhood house things were like that: raw, direct, no bullshit. And Daiana, for the first time in a long while, felt alive.