The Sleepover With My Sister That Crossed Every Line

My name is Camila, and I remember that first dawn in my sister’s apartment in its entirety, second by second, as if I were still there. I’m twenty years old, with very fair skin, dyed reddish hair since my teens, long legs, and a shy way of looking at people that always gives me away. Sofía, my older sister, is four years older than me and is practically my physical opposite: dark-skinned, dark hair down to her shoulders, tall, with a body that turns heads whenever she walks into any place.

Ever since she moved into a place of her own downtown, I’d go visit her on weekends. We ordered food, watched old series, stayed up late talking. A regular sleepover, the kind you have with your best friend, except here we also shared a surname and childhood memories. When we ran out of conversation, we fell back on the game that had become our little secret: jumping into a random cam site to play pranks on strangers.

The routine was simple. We acted like girlfriends, pretended to brush against each other, and before things could go any further, we hit next. Laughing on the other side of the screen seemed like the funniest thing in the world. Until that night, we had always done it wearing the first clothes we grabbed from the closet.

—Close your eyes —Sofía told me when I arrived, with an odd smile—. I have a surprise for you.

I obeyed. I heard the rustle of plastic, her nervous giggle, and when she let me look, there were two schoolgirl uniforms on the bed. A very short plaid skirt, a white blouse that was far too tight, thigh-high socks. The kind of costume no school in the world uses.

—Don’t you even think about backing out —she said before I could open my mouth.

I got dressed while laughing, trying not to think about how strange it was to change in front of her while wearing that. Sofía looked me up and down when I came out of the bathroom and let out a whistle like some construction worker in a bad movie. I whistled back, and we sat down in front of the laptop, with the camera pointed at the mattress.

***

The first five or six strangers played their part. They asked for things, threw out clumsy compliments, one of them stripped too quickly, and I hit next before he even finished. Sofía ran a hand along my thigh, pretended to bite my neck, and I laughed against her shoulder. It was a game, nothing more. Or that’s what I told myself.

The seventh or eighth changed everything. A short-haired girl with tired eyes was watching us in silence, her lip caught between her teeth. She didn’t say hello. When she spoke, her voice came out hoarse.

—Are you girlfriends?

I was about to laugh, to give the same old lie, when Sofía beat me to it.

—Yes —she said without hesitation—. For almost a year now.

I glanced at her sideways. She didn’t look back. The girl on the other end nodded as if the answer mattered a lot to her, and kept talking.

—Will you kiss for me? I need to cum.

My hand moved toward the next button by pure reflex. Sofía caught it in midair.

—Wait —she murmured—. It’s just a kiss.

It wasn’t just a kiss.

***

She turned me toward her with the same hand that had caught mine and kissed me like no one had ever kissed me before. Soft at first, almost hesitant. Then she opened her mouth and her tongue found mine without asking. I stayed so still I thought I was going to faint. When she pulled back for a second to breathe, she looked at me, searching for permission she had already been given without my even knowing it.

I kissed her back.

Her fingers started undoing my blouse button by button while we kissed, and mine slid under her skirt and brushed her thigh. She was hot. The girl on the screen had disappeared for me; I could hear her distant gasps, like they were coming from another room.

Sofía pulled my blouse aside with one hand and, without breaking the kiss, guided my face toward her chest. I pulled her breasts free over the bra, lowered it until it gave up, and took them into my mouth one after the other. She let out a hard sigh and slid her hand inside my panties. I was wet. She was too, I felt it as soon as I slipped my fingers into her.

A rough moan on the other side of the screen pulled us out of the trance. The girl was finishing, her head thrown back. She murmured a “thank you” that I could barely hear. Sofía slammed the laptop shut and shoved me onto my back on the mattress.

***

—Stay right there, little sister —she told me, and the word little sister in her mouth made me instinctively close my legs.

It did me no good. Sofía pried them apart with her knee, finished stripping off my skirt and blouse, and stood there staring at me naked as if she were seeing me for the first time. I covered my breasts with one arm and she laughed.

—Too late for that.

She went to the closet and came back with a white cardboard box I had seen before but never dared ask about. She opened it beside me and inside were toys I had never imagined in her house: vibrators of different sizes, two small eggs with their remote, lubricant, a blindfold. She took out the two eggs.

—One for me —she said—. And one for you.

She slipped it into me carefully and put one controller in my hand. She put hers in and handed me the other remote. She switched mine on without warning, and my whole body jerked. I, by reflex, pressed the button on the one between my fingers and watched her mouth fall open.

She kissed me again. Her fingers went back inside me while the egg buzzed in my body, and I heard myself moan so loudly that the voice didn’t even sound like mine. I felt embarrassed and clamped my mouth shut. Sofía opened it with her thumb and kept the vibrator on.

—Don’t be quiet —she said—. I want to hear you.

I lifted one leg and hooked it over her hip. She used it to grind against my thigh while she kept touching me. When we were little, Sofía had a habit of biting my shoulders when she got angry. That night she bit me the same way, but not to hurt me. She left marks on my neck, on my breasts, on the inner sides of my thighs. A week later I would still have to wear high-neck shirts.

I reached my first orgasm without seeing it coming. My eyes rolled up, my throat tightened, and a gush came out of me, soaking the sheet. Sofía let out a low, satisfied laugh.

—Oh, little sister, you must be thirsty —she said—. Drink from here.

***

She sat on my face with her knees on either side of my head. Her sex pressed against my mouth, and I, still trembling from the orgasm, dove in like it was the last thing I’d ever do in my life. I grabbed her thighs and pulled her against me. She leaned forward with her hands on the wall, moaning.

I took advantage of the fact that I had the remote and cranked the egg up to the max. Sofía screamed. Her voice changed, becoming more childish and more urgent. Her juices dripped down my chin and I moved my tongue as best I could, looking for where she liked it most. When I slipped two fingers in without taking my tongue away, she clamped her legs against my ears.

—Don’t stop —she said—. Close your eyes.

As soon as I did, I felt something hot and abundant spill over me. When I opened them, she was on all fours over me, still trembling, and the bed was soaked in a stain spreading beneath the two of us. We were both gasping as if we’d run a marathon.

***

She collapsed beside me. She took my face in her hands and we kissed slowly, for a long time, with broken breathing. I felt her hand on my stomach, moving up and down.

—Are you satisfied? —she asked me in my ear.

—Pretty much —I said, smiling against her cheek.

—But —she went on, with a crooked smile—, would you like to try scissors with me?

I nodded so fast she laughed. She helped me position myself: one leg over hers, the other under it, our sex pressed together. She started moving slowly, almost tenderly, as if we were kissing down there instead of with our mouths.

Then she turned the egg on again.

I jerked, she laughed softly, and she increased the pace. Every second the friction got stronger, wetter, more obscene. We were both so soaked that we slid against each other. Sofía reached out and squeezed one breast, I squeezed hers, and our moans crossed in the air like they were one single voice.

She wrapped her arm around my leg and pushed harder. I felt my eyes roll up again and told her I was close. The two of us cranked up the vibrator’s power at the same time. She leaned forward, without stopping moving, and kissed me. Her teeth brushed my lip. I held her with everything I had.

We came almost at the same time. I dug my nails into her back; she dug hers into my breasts. I felt her orgasm in the way her whole body tightened, and a second later we were both splashing each other again. The sheet could not have gotten any wetter.

We turned off the vibrators with trembling hands and I flopped down on top of her.

—I can’t take any more, little sister —she said, laughing between gasps.

Neither could I. We both laughed for a long while, hugging each other naked over the huge stain we’d left on the mattress. Sleep won before we had the strength to change the sheets.

***

Since that night, every time I go visit Sofía I know what kind of sleepover is waiting for me. We’ve expanded the white box, we’ve tried new things, we’ve discovered we’re very good at closing the laptop before the strangers on the other end finish. A few weeks ago, with her head still resting on my stomach, she asked me whether I’d consider leaving our parents’ house and moving in with her.

I still haven’t answered her. But I already have my suitcase half-packed.