What Happened in the Locker Room After the Game

The January afternoon came down over the neighborhood like a hot iron. The sun beat in 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 game. It had been one hell of a mess: bicycle-kick goals, tackles that hurt, shouted curses, and a draw at the end that left everyone hot-blooded. Bruno, Daiana’s brother, had scored twice and felt like he owned the world. His three inseparable friends—the Fat Man, Damián; Baldy, 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 years old and had a body nobody could overlook. She was fat, the kind of woman who filled out her clothes: heavy breasts that strained any bra, a broad 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 man she’d been with had left her for a skinny girl from downtown who, according to him, “had more going for her.” Since then, she’d carried a fire inside her that not even a cold shower could put out. She touched herself every night, imagining someone breaking her open once and for all, but nothing happened. Until that day.

She had gone to the game wearing a tight white T-shirt, no bra because the heat was unbearable, and a short pair of denim shorts that showed everything. Sweat clung the fabric to her skin, and her breasts moved freely with every step. The boys glanced at her between plays, and she knew it. She liked feeling watched, desired, with them wanting to touch her.

When the final whistle blew, Bruno shouted to her from the middle of the field:

—Go on home, we’re fucking wrecked and we’re going to change.

But Daiana didn’t leave. She stayed wandering around near the shed, that corrugated-metal-and-wood structure that served as the locker room: a long concrete bench, two showers with loose faucets, a couple of plastic stools, and the smell of old sweat mixed with cheap deodorant. Bruno saw that she wasn’t moving and snapped irritably:

—Wait outside. Don’t be a pain.

Just then Fat Man Damián came out first, a towel tied around his waist, his wet chest and hanging belly exposed. He looked her up and down and smiled mischievously.

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

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

The air grew charged within seconds.

Fat Man approached first. He yanked off his towel and stood exposed, thick and veined, already half-hard from the heat and adrenaline.

—Look at those tits, fatty… your nipples are showing through your wet shirt.

Daiana bit her lip, her heart pounding between her thighs. She said nothing, only opened her legs a little on the bench. Baldy gave a quiet laugh.

—This one wants it, huh? Look at the way she’s breathing.

Dark-skinned Kevin got straight to the point. He stood in front of her, grabbed one breast with his whole hand, 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. Fat Man grabbed the back of her neck and shoved his cock into her mouth without warning.

—Open wide. Suck it like you mean it.

Daiana obeyed. She swallowed it whole, her tongue running over the veins, saliva dribbling down her chin. Meanwhile, Baldy lifted her shirt and pulled her breasts free. They were enormous, with big, dark nipples already hard as stones. He pinched them, sucked them, and bit them until they were red.

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

—Look how wet this one is… she’s burning up.

He shoved three fingers inside her at once and stirred them around, making wet noises. Daiana moaned with her mouth full, her eyes brimming with tears.

—Fuck me… please… hard…

***

They put her on all fours over the concrete bench. Dark-skinned Kevin knelt behind her, spat, and drove himself all the way in with one thrust.

—Take it. I’ll open you right up.

He pounded her without holding back, Daiana’s belly trembling with every blow, her breasts hanging and knocking against each other. Baldy put his cock in her mouth and fucked her like she was just another hole, gripping her hair and thrusting until her throat closed around him.

Fat Man lay underneath her, sucking her breasts, biting them, slipping one hand between her legs and rubbing her clit while Dark-skinned Kevin impaled her from behind. Daiana was on another planet, moaning and drooling, her whole body trembling.

—More… give me more… —she begged in a broken voice.

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

—Relax. This’ll work too.

He pushed in slowly at first. Daiana cried out, but she didn’t complain. She wanted to feel everything. When the tip slipped inside, he thrust firmly and buried himself to the hilt.

—Fuck, you’re tight.

Then the two of them bent her between them at once: Baldy in front, long and curved, rubbing against a spot that made her scream; Dark-skinned Kevin behind her, thick, the two of them separated by only a thin wall. Daiana felt as if they were splitting her in half. She cried, but it was from something else: pleasure so intense it edged into pain, and pain that mingled with pleasure until she no longer knew where one ended and the other began.

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

She came screaming, her body convulsing, her legs weak, completely subdued. The boys didn’t let up. They switched again, traded places, spanked her until they left marks, pinched her breasts, and whispered in her ear. Daiana lost count of how many times she came. Everything trembled; she burned everywhere, swollen.

Finally, Dark-skinned Kevin couldn’t hold back any longer. He pulled his cock from her mouth and came all over her face, thick, hot streams landing in her eyes, on her nose, and in her open mouth. Baldy came across her breasts and spread the semen over them with his hands as if it were cream. Fat Man, last of all, grunting, finished inside her until it dripped down her thighs.

The four of them were left panting, the smell of sex clinging to the corrugated-metal walls. Daiana could barely move. She dressed as best she could: her shorts crooked, her shirt stained, walking as if she had a stick shoved inside her.

Just then Bruno returned with the pack of cigarettes in his hand. He saw her stagger out, her hair disheveled, her face shining. He looked inside and saw his three friends wearing satisfied expressions.

—What the fuck is this? —he shouted at her, red with anger—. You let all three of them fuck you? In the club shed?

She didn’t answer, only lowered her gaze, still trembling. Bruno grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the street, cursing her loudly the whole way. Daiana walked slowly, every step hurting and pleasing her at the same time, and inside she smiled: her body satisfied for the first time in months.

***

They reached the house as darkness was falling. The corrugated-metal door creaked, and inside was the old woman, Doña Susana, sitting in the kitchen with bitter mate and the radio playing softly. The place smelled of fried food from lunchtime 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 like she’s been run over by a bus?

Bruno shoved her away and remained standing in the dining-room doorway.

—She’s been acting like a slut, Mom. She let my three friends fuck her in the club shed after the game. All three, you understand? Look how she walks.

Doña Susana looked her daughter up and down. Daiana stood there, her shorts crooked, her little shirt clinging to her body, her breasts rising and falling with her agitated breathing. The old woman sighed deeply, turned off the radio, and motioned for her to sit on the old sofa in the living room.

—Come here, sit down. And you tell me what happened. I don’t want to hear it from this hothead.

Daiana let herself fall onto the sofa with a groan. She bit her lip, embarrassed, but with that tingling sensation still swirling through her.

—Mom… I don’t know how it happened. I was watching the game, and then I went into the shed because Bruno left to buy cigarettes. The boys were changing, all sweaty, looking at me hungrily. I had this fire inside me; no one had touched me for months. And they came at me.

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

—Keep going, sweetheart. Don’t beat around the bush.

Daiana swallowed, her face flushed.

—First Fat Man put it in my mouth. Baldy pulled out my breasts and bit them. Dark-skinned Kevin pulled down my shorts and put his fingers inside me. Then they put me on all fours on the bench… they fucked me everywhere, Mom. They did everything to me. I was embarrassed when they said things to me, but at the same time it made me even wetter.

The old woman stroked her hair without judging her.

—And did you enjoy it?

—Yes… it hurt, but I liked it. No one had ever fucked me that hard. I came a whole lot of times. In the end, all three of them came and… —she stopped, covering her face.

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

—Look, sweetheart. Those boys are really worked up after a game, their blood boiling, sweaty, thinking about women the whole time. And a woman like you, with those tits and that ass, some men will fuck too hard. It doesn’t mean you’re bad. It’s just that when they’re like that, they get carried away. But if you enjoyed it, don’t worry about it.

Daiana nodded slowly, with a little smile.

—Your brother’s angry 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 yourself well; you must be swollen. And next time, if you’re going to go around dressed like that, at least bring them home. I’ll pretend not to notice and keep watch at the door.

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 continued with her mate as if nothing had happened.

Bruno kept cursing to himself from the bedroom, but no one paid him any attention anymore. In that neighborhood house, things were like that: raw, direct, no beating around the bush. And Daiana, for the first time in a long while, felt alive.