My Sister Heard Us from the Door That Night

We rented the little house on a Wednesday afternoon, three days before the thirty-first. It was small, one of those houses they build exactly the same inside a gated community: a garden the size of a table, thin walls, two bedrooms, and a kitchen where it was impossible not to bump into each other. But it was ours for four days, and that was enough. Matías and I had been together for two years without ever having had a real vacation, without family and without obligations. Just the two of us, a grocery bag, and no concrete plan beyond not doing anything mandatory.

The plan got complicated the very day we arrived.

Carolina, my sister, called me. Three years younger than me, just as stubborn, with that way of hers of phrasing questions as if the answer had already been decided.

—Can I spend New Year’s with you guys? —she asked.

Before I could open my mouth, Matías looked up from his phone from the other end of the room and said:

—Let her come. There’s room.

And that was how the three of us ended up in a little house with only one free bedroom.

The house smelled of fresh paint and of an air freshener trying to mask the confinement of the months it had gone unoccupied. It was cozy anyway, with that forced intimacy small spaces have, the kind Matías and I never quite managed to hate.

Carolina arrived on the thirty-first in the afternoon with an oversized suitcase and two bottles of pink sparkling wine. We cooked together, put music on, and the hours passed with that ease year-end days have when there’s nowhere in particular to go. At five minutes to midnight we stood in front of the little living-room window with our glasses in hand and watched the neighbor community’s fireworks, which weren’t much either, but they did their job well enough. We toasted, hugged, and the year came in without much ceremony.

After the toast, we stayed seated until late. The conversation started off trivial and, glass by glass, drifted into more personal territory. It was Carolina who brought up the subject nobody had named yet.

She told us she’d known about us for a long time. Not just that Matías and I were a couple, but what kind of couple we were. A few months earlier she had shown up at the house unannounced and found us in the bedroom. I was on my knees on the bed, propped on my hands, my ass up, and Matías was behind me with his hands gripping my buttocks, burying his cock all the way in. Everything was visible: the dick sliding in and out shiny with lubricant, my man-pussy swallowing it whole, the wet sound of the fucking. Neither of us heard her come in. She closed the door carefully and went for a one-hour walk.

—Nothing happened —she said, without a trace of discomfort—. Everyone lives how they want.

Matías burst out laughing. Heat rose to my face, though I suppose by then it was too late to be embarrassed.

—Why didn’t you say anything? —I asked her.

—What did you want me to say?

She was right. There was nothing to say. What we did in our bed owed no explanations to anyone, and yet the news that she had known for months gave me something close to relief.

The conversation continued naturally. Carolina mentioned, with that calm of hers when talking about anything, that she had recently started taking it up the ass with her boyfriend. I’m not sure what came over me. I felt that automatic older-brother impulse, that protective reflex of asking if she was sure, if it was something she really wanted. I had to remind myself in silence that I myself got Matías’s cock up my ass with some regularity, and that my body had long since adapted to having it shoved in all the way and emptied inside me. It would have been a hard hypocrisy to sustain.

Carolina looked at me with a smile.

—Are you always the bottom? —she asked, choosing the word carefully.

—Yeah —I said—. Always. I’ve never stuck it in anyone. I like having it stuck in me.

I explained as best I could that that role made me feel comfortable in a way that wasn’t easy to describe. There was something about opening my legs, offering my ass, letting someone else decide the pace and depth, that gave me a sense of completeness I didn’t find any other way. I liked feeling a cock filling me, I liked the burn at the beginning and the way my body then opened up and asked for more. Matías added his part without beating around the bush: he was the man in the relationship, the one who fucked. He said it like someone stating a fact, without arrogance or any need to justify himself.

—And the underwear? —Carolina asked suddenly.

I looked at her, not understanding.

—You left a thong in Mom’s bathroom last summer —she said—. I kept it before anyone found it.

There was a two-second silence before the three of us started laughing. I confirmed that yes, for years I’d worn women’s underwear exclusively. It wasn’t exactly a secret I had worked hard to keep; it just had never come up.

—I think that’s perfect —she said, shrugging—. It’s your body.

We went to bed after two. Before closing her bedroom door, Carolina leaned out into the hall and told us that if we were going to fuck, we shouldn’t hold back on her account, that she was already an adult and didn’t care what we did. Matías answered with a smile and, as soon as the door closed, slapped my ass so hard it echoed more than either of us had expected.

That night nothing happened. We just slept.

***

The next morning, Carolina announced that she wanted to explore the area. She had seen on the map that there was a craft fair twenty minutes away on foot and she was going to go. She left after breakfast with a small backpack and her earbuds in, without giving any estimate of when she’d be back.

Matías and I were left alone in the house.

The morning had that still quality vacation days have: horizontal light coming in, unhurried, and no immediate obligation. I lay there for a few minutes staring at the ceiling before getting up.

I went to the bathroom. While I was in there, something crossed my mind: the possibility that Carolina could come back at any moment without warning, just like that time at home. The idea of her seeing Matías’s cock buried all the way to the balls in me made me hard inside my thong in a second. I’m not quite sure why that thought turned me on so much. Maybe it was the echo of the previous night’s conversation, with her talking about opening her ass to her boyfriend as if it were just another topic. Maybe it was simply that we hadn’t fucked in days. I got in the shower, washed myself out carefully until I was clean, dried off, put on the pink thong I’d left in my bag, and came out of the bathroom with my mind made up.

—I’m horny —I told Matías, who was still in bed with his phone in his hand—. I want you to fuck me.

He set it on the nightstand without saying anything and looked at me. I saw the bulge press up over his briefs the moment he heard the sentence.

I went over to the bed and knelt beside it. I yanked his briefs down and his cock sprang out, hard, thick, the vein standing out underneath. I took it in my hand and put it in my mouth without ceremony. I liked sucking him off like that, barely awake, when the taste of sleep was still on him. I sucked him deep, pressing my tongue against the vein, taking the head into my mouth until I felt it hit the back of my throat. Matías let his head fall back onto the pillow and gave a low groan.

—Like that, suck it all —he murmured, putting a hand on my nape without squeezing.

I slobbered his dick from top to bottom, took it out, licked his balls one by one, and took them into my mouth. I went back up the shaft with a flat tongue until I reached the head, which was already leaking a thick drop of precum. I took it in my lips and milked it with my tongue. Matías’s breathing had gone shallow.

—Come here —he said, gently tugging my arm.

I lay down beside him. He settled behind me, wrapped an arm around me, and pulled me against his body. I felt him ready against the seam of my ass from the first moment, hard and hot, wetting the fabric of my thong with his own spit. He lowered my pajama pants calmly, moved the thong aside with two fingers, and used saliva first to lubricate me, spitting directly between my buttocks and spreading it with his finger. He slipped one in, then two, until he felt my ass relax and open for him. Then he took some cream from the nightstand drawer and worked it well inside me, smearing my hole with two fingers going in and out slowly. All without hurry. Matías always took his time, and I always ended up grateful for it.

—You’re ready —he told me in my ear—. You’re open and wet just the way I like it.

The entry was slow. Both of us lying on our sides, him against my back, pressing the head of his cock against my hole and pushing patiently until the tip got in and the whole dick sank deep. I felt that initial stretch that always tore a short moan from me, that mix of burn and fullness that made me close my eyes and arch my back to take him better. He started with almost imperceptible movements that gradually became deeper and more sustained, pulling out halfway and shoving back in to the balls. His hand was on my hip to set the rhythm, his lips brushing my neck, his chest pressed to my back. The blanket covered us to the shoulders and the world was reduced to that: the heat of his body, the cock sliding in and out, the pressure in the exact place that made me tremble inside.

—You take me so well —he murmured against my ear—. Always so warm in there.

I couldn’t speak. I answered with muffled moans, pushing my ass back so he could drive it in deeper, feeling his cock rub my prostate with every thrust and draw another drop of precum from me that soaked the front of my thong.

I closed my eyes.

I didn’t hear the door.

I didn’t hear footsteps in the hall or the sound of the handle. I was too deep inside that sensation that takes over when the body stops thinking and only receives: his weight against my back, the slow, deep movement, the cock filling me to the point where I no longer knew where I ended and he began, the heat building under the fabric, the sound of my own breathing growing more irregular with each push.

It was Carolina’s voice that made me open my eyes.

—Looks like you’re having fun —she said from the doorway.

I didn’t scream. I didn’t move. Matías didn’t stop either. On the contrary, I felt him sink his cock a centimeter deeper and stay there, letting me feel every millimeter of him inside.

—I’m giving him what he deserves —he said, with a calm that in that moment seemed completely obscene to me—. He loves it when I put it in him like this, slow, all the way to the bottom.

Carolina stayed for a moment leaning against the doorframe. She looked at me. I looked at her. There was no shame on her face, only something like recognition. Her eyes dropped to the lump under the blanket, where the slow movement of Matías’s hips pushing against my ass could be made out.

—Enjoy it —she told me—. I already know what it’s like to have a dick inside me. I’m not going to freak out.

And she left, leaving the door ajar.

Matías didn’t stop. He took up the rhythm again, this time firmer, his hand gripping my hip harder. The blanket shifted with the movement and my ass was left uncovered, my thong pushed aside and his cock coming in and out for anyone passing in the hall to see. The fact that she had been there, that he hadn’t stopped for a second, that the door had been left open, turned me on in a way I hadn’t expected. I heard myself moan louder, without controlling it, pushing my ass against his thrusts.

—Harder —I asked him—. Fuck me harder.

Matías slipped his arm under me, grabbed my shoulder, and used that support to drive into me with short, precise thrusts that made me clench my teeth. Every push ripped a moan from my throat and another spurt of precum that had already soaked my thong. I could feel his balls slapping against my ass, the sweat between our bodies, the hot breath on my nape.

—You’re going to come without me touching you —he told me in my ear, and it was true. I could already feel it rising.

He bit my shoulder softly, kept driving into me, and I came with his cock clenched against the fabric of my thong, in hot spurts that soaked the inside of my pajama pants. My ass tightened around his cock in spasms and that was what finished him off. He pushed two, three more times, all the way in, and when he came he did it inside, emptying himself with a low, short sound that came from his throat. I felt each pulse of his cock unloading semen against my walls, filling me, and then he went still. The two of us under the blanket, half slipped off, with his cock still buried inside me.

I could feel the tension leaving his body, his breathing settling into the rhythm of mine, feel him going soft inside me without either of us making the slightest move to get up. I could also feel his warm semen inside me, and I knew that when he pulled out some of it would spill down the crack of my ass and stain the sheet.

Birds could be heard outside. At some point the sun came in through the slat of the blinds and crossed the blanket. We stayed there without moving. After a while he slowly pulled out and I felt the warm thread running down between my buttocks, soaking the thong that had moved back into place. I didn’t even clean myself. I stayed like that, with his cum inside me and outside me, pressed against his chest.

We stayed that way for a good while, in silence.

***

At the late breakfast, Carolina made coffee and toast without mentioning what she had seen. She waited until all three of us were seated around the table before speaking.

—I want you to know I really appreciate that you trust me with this kind of thing —she said, first looking at Matías and then at me—. It’s not something everyone has with their family.

Matías nodded. I wrapped my hands around the mug and looked at the coffee, still feeling his semen dripping slowly inside my thong.

—We appreciate it too —I said at last.

Outside, the January sun came in through the dining-room window. The year had started well.