What I Saw in the Factory Locker Room That Afternoon

It was a heavy Saturday in the neighborhood, with the sun beating down hard on the low houses and the smell of someone’s barbecue drifting through the hot air. I was twenty-four, bored in my room, and when I heard my mother’s voice and Mirta’s at the door, I got curious. The two of them were talking softly, but with that naughty little laugh grown women get when they’re talking about something they shouldn’t.

I crept closer without making a sound, hiding behind the water tank on the side, and strained to listen.

Mirta, Mom’s friend and coworker at the cured-meat factory, was speaking with the rough voice of someone remembering something delicious.

—Susana, you have to come. You know how these plant barbecues get. The guys drink, get worked up, and end up fucking us all in the locker room.

My mother let out a low laugh, as if she were savoring the memory.

—I know that already. I came away from the last barbecue walking crooked for three days.

—And they left marks on my tits —Mirta laughed—. My husband pretends not to notice, but he knows perfectly well what I go for.

The two of them laughed loudly, in on the joke, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Then Mirta lowered her tone.

—I’m going with my son, Bruno. Why don’t you tell your daughter to come too?

—I don’t know if Carla will want to… —Mom hesitated.

—She will, she will —the other one laughed—. Want me to tell you something? Bruno and your daughter have already had their fun. I heard him telling his friends. Your girl likes to have a good time just as much as we do.

—Oh, that doesn’t surprise me at all —Mom burst out, amused—. She takes after her mother, apparently.

I froze behind the tank, listening to my own mother talk about me like an equal, like just another woman in the neighborhood who likes what she likes. One part of me should have been offended. The other, the honest part, felt an immediate heat between my legs.

Because they were right. I was one of those who says yes. Bruno had proven that to me a couple of months earlier, one afternoon, in the old sheds at the back of the neighborhood.

***

I remembered that afternoon with Bruno perfectly. With him, you were never bored. He’d pinned me against a rusty plank, pulled my underwear down to my knees, and fucked me first from the front and then from behind, slow at first and then brutal, until I was trembling, my eyes wet and the feeling that he had marked me all over. I walked away from there with a strange little sway and smiling to myself.

So when Mom called me that night and casually told me that on Saturday she was going to the barbecue with her, and that I wouldn’t be bored because Bruno would be there too, I didn’t put up any objections. I said yes before she even finished the sentence.

***

Saturday came. Early in the day, Mirta showed up at the house with Bruno so they could go together to the plant. Mom had put on a tight black pair of pants that showed through a red thong, and a white T-shirt with no bra that outlined her nipples. Mirta arrived dressed conservatively for her husband’s sake —long pants, buttoned-up shirt—, but as soon as she got home she changed: a very short denim miniskirt and a shirt unbuttoned to the limit. The two of them were going to get half the staff hard, and they knew it.

I didn’t dress up too much. I put on a flowered dress with buttons down the back, pretty modest, that came to just above my knees, and underneath, my usual. Bruno looked me up and down when he saw me and gave me a sidelong smile. That smile already told me how the afternoon was going to end.

The factory had a huge grounds set up for events: separate tables, smoking grills, the smell of meat and chorizo everywhere. By the time we got there, there were already quite a few people. Mirta chose a table where six or seven burly workers were sitting, in tight T-shirts and with big hands, and four women: Mom, Mirta, me, and a woman in her forties, sturdy and big-breasted, who worked in the plant’s cleaning crew.

While we were eating, Bruno started rubbing my leg beneath the tablecloth. He leaned toward me and spoke softly in my ear.

—I remember how you got in the shed. I want to do that again. Would you let me?

I smiled, feeling myself get wet just hearing him.

—If you want to, I’ll let you.

He squeezed my thigh, satisfied.

—You’re leaving here without being able to walk straight —he promised me.

Meanwhile, the grown-ups were drinking wine and Fernet hard. The workers started getting handsy: dancing pressed together, hands on hips, on asses, tits brushed “by accident.” Mirta, emboldened by the shouting and laughter, lifted her miniskirt and showed the red thong to the whole table. The men clapped and whistled as if it were a show.

Bruno, watching the scene, spoke in my ear again.

—Before I fuck you I want to work myself up good and proper. Come on, I know a place.

***

He took my hand and, keeping it discreet, we took a detour to the plant’s locker rooms. Instead of going inside, we climbed up onto a kind of high mezzanine that overlooked the changing area, near the showers. From there, crouched in the dimness, no one could see us, but we could see everything.

I understood right away what Bruno wanted. He wanted to watch. Watch them fucking his mother, mine, the cleaning woman. While we waited, we made out with tongue. He slipped his hand under my dress, pinched my nipples, rubbed me through the fabric until I was soaked and biting my lip so I wouldn’t make a sound.

A few minutes later, we heard the first voices.

A tall guy came in dragging the cleaning woman along, laughing.

—I’m going to wreck you completely, you slut. You want it or not?

—Of course I want it, baby —she answered, her voice shaking with pure excitement.

The man threw an old mattress onto the floor and started sucking her tits, which were huge. She took off her skirt and underwear in a hurry, knelt down, and shoved it into her mouth with a desperation that was almost enviable. She licked, sucked, took it all the way in, swallowed his balls with frenzy. She wasn’t a pretty woman, but she had an enthusiasm that made up for ten others.

When the guy had her good and hard, he put her on all fours and rammed into her with one hard thrust. She screamed with pleasure, and the screams drew in the rest. In seconds the locker room was full of laughter and people.

Mom and Mirta came in surrounded by the others, who were groping them all over. My mother had her pants pulled down halfway over her ass, her cheeks split open by the red thong. Mirta was already in just her thong, with the miniskirt wound around her waist like a belt.

—They’re leaving the cleaning lady’s holes shining —one of them laughed—. Once in a while it was her turn to get cleaned up.

—Oh, I came in dirty too —Mom joked, already with her tits out—. Can you clean me up good too?

Everyone laughed and the groping got rougher. Within minutes the three women were naked and surrounded. Bruno had positioned himself against my back, pressing his hard dick between my ass cheeks while we watched. He whispered in my ear:

—Look closely, Carla. When this is over, I’m taking you somewhere and leaving you just like them.

—Yes, Bruno —I answered, feeling his erection throb against my dress.

Down below, Mirta was handling three at once: one in her mouth and one in each hand, blowing them with a level of experience that was frightening. Mom had two going in and out of her mouth, slobbering without shame. The men, drunk and horny, talked to them with insults and slapped their asses, and they, far from complaining, seemed to enjoy every insult.

Mom didn’t take long to end up on all fours, getting fucked by one while sucking another. When I saw them start to rail Mirta too, I felt Bruno’s cock grow against my body. Seeing his own mother like that, open to so many men, was driving him wild.

—Look how my old lady’s moaning —he said to me, breathing hard, never taking his eyes off them.

The only thing the two of them asked for was more. “Harder,” “give it to me,” “don’t stop.” The guy fucking Mom turned her around and left her ass up. Another, a big one, spit right into her eye and shoved it in with one hard thrust.

—Fuck me, Jesus! —Mom shouted—. That thing they put in me is huge! They’re going to break me…

—You’re already broken, slut —the one in front laughed—. Half the plant could fit in that ass.

The cleaning woman, by contrast, was crying softly. Between hiccups she confessed that she had never been touched from behind, that it was the first time. By how hard the man had to work to fuck her, by how she twisted and asked him to go slow, it seemed true. She cried for a long while, but in the end she relaxed, spread her own legs, and started moaning like the other two.

I watched it all with my heart pounding in my chest, my cunt throbbing, Bruno’s fingers working me beneath the dress. I was so aroused it was hard to stay still.

***

After a good while of groping, blow jobs, and thrusting, the men finally finished, pulled their pants back up, and left laughing, leaving the three women sprawled on the mattresses, panting and soaked. The moment we saw they were alone, Bruno couldn’t hold back anymore.

—I can barely walk with how hard I am —he told me—. Suck me off a little right here.

And hard he was. I knelt on the mezzanine, took as much of him into my mouth as I could, and after just a few thrusts I felt him start to come. I swallowed what I could, but a couple of thick spurts slipped down onto my flowered dress, leaving the fabric stained white at the chest.

When we came down, Mom, Mirta, and the other woman were already getting dressed as best they could: wrinkled clothes, smeared makeup, the smell of sex all over them. They wanted to shower, but there was no water in the plant. Mom invited them to bathe at our place.

I tried to slip past without being seen, but my mother called me. She looked at the stains on my dress and smiled with a complicity that made my face burn.

—I’m going home with them in a little while —she told me calmly—. If you want to stay a bit longer with Bruno, stay. We won’t bother you.

—Okay, Mom —I answered, blushing and aroused at the same time.

***

Bruno took my hand and led me to a dark storage room at the back of the grounds, between stacks of boxes and the smell of damp. He shoved me against a column of cardboard boxes, lifted my dress, pulled my underwear down to my knees, and drove into me in one single thrust.

He fucked me fast, hard, growling things against the back of my neck, and I clutched the boxes so I wouldn’t fall. I came twice before he turned me around. Then he spat on me, pressed his cock against my ass, and slid in slowly, forcing his way in until he was all the way inside. It burned, it hurt, and even so I kept asking for more, pushing back against him.

By the time we finished and got home, we had gone through everything: front, mouth, and back. In my room he put me on all fours on the bed again, grabbed my hair, and pounded me one last time until he came inside me, deep, with a long groan. He left me trembling, wrecked and happy, breath coming in short gasps.

Lying face down, feeling him breathe heavily beside me, I thought Bruno was by far the one who did it best of all.

Outside, in the bathroom, the three women were washing up while exchanging little laughs, telling one another details of what had happened in the locker room. I smiled against the pillow. The factory barbecue had been exactly what I expected: meat, red wine, and a whole lot of heat.