What My Sister Asked Me That Night in Bed

Two weeks had passed since that duel at the hotel, and Bianca still wore the defeat like a thorn embedded under her skin. The night was warm. A slow breeze drifted in through the windows of the new apartment up in the river towers, making the gauze curtains stir just a little. Down below, the city was still awake, its lights trembling on the water. But in the dimness of the master bedroom, everything was still.

On the wide bed, between white linen sheets that smelled of the two of them, of sweat and wet cunt, Mariel rested with her cheek on her sister’s chest. Their legs were tangled together, their thighs still sticky, and their bodies only half covered in that thick calm left behind by a long, secret encounter. Bianca stroked her hair with the tips of her fingers, slowly, while Mariel traced lazy ovals around one of her nipples, still reddened from having been bitten so much a little while before.

—I don’t understand how you could lose —Mariel murmured, with a smile you could hear in her voice even though Bianca couldn’t see her face.

Bianca lowered her gaze, bewildered.

—What?

—For how good you are at this. I can’t wrap my head around her beating you. I mean… —Mariel lifted her head and looked at her teasingly—. I can’t explain it. You make me come three times in a row without taking your tongue out of my cunt. How the fuck did you lose?

Bianca let out a long sigh, half wounded pride, half thoughtfulness. She settled the back of her neck against the pillow and stared at the ceiling, where the lights outside drew lines that drifted back and forth.

—I don’t get it either —she admitted—. I feel like I did everything to her. That I dominated her. That I made her shake, made her beg. I shoved three fingers all the way in while I was licking her clit, and the fucking bitch was screaming like she was dying. And I still lost.

Mariel chuckled softly and kissed her shoulder with a tenderness that didn’t quite fit the conversation.

—Lost how, anyway? From what you told me, the two of you went at it with everything you had. But you’d never told me you liked getting into bed with other women.

—It’s not that I like it —Bianca replied, and then immediately felt her sister’s curious stare fixed on her—. With her, it was different. It started as a real fight. If we’d started swinging, we would’ve hurt each other, so we took it somewhere else. I wanted to humiliate her where she thinks she’s invincible. To show her she’s not better than me at fucking.

—But you beat her once.

—Once. She beat me twice. And the last time was awful. —Bianca closed her eyes for a second, as if the memory were still burning her skin—. She broke me, Mariel. Had my legs spread for hours, made me beg for my release. She left me with nothing.

She said it and at the same time she licked her lips without noticing. Mariel noticed it, of course she did, and her smile widened in the dark. The hand circling her nipple moved a little lower, brushing the curve of her breast.

—Are you going to challenge her again?

—Obviously. I’m not going to make it that easy for her.

***

As she said it, the memory of the last night at the hotel slipped back into her head uninvited. The half-lit room, the rumpled bed, the two of them sizing each other up like two cats before a leap. They had started standing, face to face, in panties and bras, hurling challenges at each other in low voices so as not to wake anyone on the floor.

—You’re going to cry before this is over —her rival had told her, a thin-bodied woman with feline eyes whom everyone in that scene called by a nickname Bianca hated to say out loud.

—The one who’s going to cry is you, with my cunt on your face —she had answered, grabbing her by the hair.

And then they’d thrown themselves at each other. Bianca remembered the metallic taste of adrenaline, the way the other woman dug her nails into her back while kissing her with fury, the struggle to stay on top. She ripped off her bra in one yank and bit one of her tits hard, making her howl. The other answered by sliding a hand between Bianca’s legs over the soaked panties, squeezing her cunt with an open palm, whispering, “You’re already wet, slut, you’ve already lost.”

Bianca shoved her face-down onto the mattress, yanked down her panties with one slap of her hand, and spread her ass to see everything. She spat on her ass and went down on her right there, without permission, with her tongue broad and flat, while she slipped two fingers into her cunt from behind and curled them, searching for the exact spot. For a very long while she thought she was winning. She had her at her mercy, the rival with her face pressed into the pillow, moaning softly, dripping into Bianca’s hand. She whispered into her ear everything she was going to do to her: “I’m going to split you open, I’m going to leave you voiceless, you’re going to come three times before I even touch your clit.” She felt like she had total control over her.

But the rival knew how to wait. She let Bianca get overconfident, get tired, let her guard down. And when Bianca least expected it, she flipped her over with humiliating ease, pinned her wrists to the mattress, and sat on her face, crushing Bianca’s open cunt against her mouth. She ordered her to lick, and Bianca, furious, ended up licking. After that she went down on Bianca’s pussy and used that skillful tongue with cruel patience: she licked her everywhere, in slow circles, went up to the clit and sucked it for just two, three seconds, right until she felt her hips jerk up, and then backed off. She put her tongue in Bianca’s cunt and pulled it out, nibbled at her lips, spat inside her and went back to licking. She drove her to the edge again and again without letting her finish, until Bianca, furious and wrecked, with her legs trembling and her belly clenched in a spasm that never quite broke, ended up asking in a murmur for what she would never have admitted out loud: “please, make me come, please.” That was the defeat. Not the orgasm that came afterward, when the other woman finally shoved two fingers inside her and licked her clit mercilessly until she convulsed. The defeat was the plea.

Bianca blinked and came back to the present, to the dim room, to her sister’s warm body beside her. She realized she was wet again.

***

Mariel shifted onto her side, propped up on one elbow, to look at her better. The sheet slid down to her waist and Bianca’s gaze strayed for a moment over her sister’s body —the full breasts falling just slightly to one side, the dark nipples, still hard— before returning to her eyes. It always happened. No matter how many years they’d been doing this in secret, in hotels, in borrowed apartments, in their parents’ house when everyone was asleep, Bianca still looked at her like the first time.

—Tell me —Mariel said, lowering her voice until it became a thread—. What did you enjoy the most with her?

Bianca hesitated. She bit her lip. And then, like someone confessing something she shouldn’t even be thinking, she spoke.

—The rivalry. The insults. When we spat in each other’s faces and called each other filthy whores. It doesn’t make sense, I know, because in the end we were both tangled up, with one woman’s tongue in the other’s cunt, kissing like animals with the taste of our own cunts in our mouths. But that turned me on. The hate. Feeling her tongue searching for mine while her eyes told me she wanted to see me lose. The rubbing and the resentment at the same time. It drove me crazy.

Mariel laughed again, this time louder.

—You’re sick. —She kissed her shoulder—. I can’t imagine being with any woman other than you. Much less doing something like that.

She ran her hand over Bianca’s belly, slowly, drawing circles on the still-warm skin, drifting lower each time until she just barely brushed the pubic hair.

—And do you think she’s better than you at anything? —she insisted.

Bianca took a while to answer. She sighed. And then she nodded just a little, almost grudgingly.

—In some things, yes. She’s got a skilled tongue, the bitch. She knows how to use the tip like it’s a finger. She’s provocative like few others. Good lips, I’ll admit that, and she knows exactly how to kiss you to throw you off, how to suck your clit until you forget your own name. But she’s skinny, almost no tits, almost no ass. I don’t know where she gets all that arrogance.

Mariel slid closer, her eyes shining in the dark. The hand that had been drawing circles moved down for good and caressed her pubis with an open palm, unhurried.

—And who do you prefer? Her or me?

Bianca opened her mouth and no sound came out. She stayed silent for a few seconds, blinking, searching for words that didn’t come. Her face softened. Something crossed her eyes, an emotion even she couldn’t name.

Mariel burst out laughing and sat up abruptly, one breast bouncing in front of Bianca’s face.

—You’re in deep! —she exclaimed, half amused, half scandalized—. You like that woman!

—Don’t talk nonsense.

—Your eyes are sparkling like a lovestruck teenager’s. —She pointed at her, savoring the moment—. Look at your face!

Bianca shook her head and sighed, resigned. She took the hand pointing at her and brought it to her breast, pressing it against her nipple.

—Don’t be stupid. With you it’s different. I love you. I couldn’t imagine spitting in your mouth, or fighting with you the way I fight with her. What I do with her is a war. What I do with you… —her voice broke for an instant— is the only thing that comes out of my soul.

***

Something changed in the air. The teasing dissolved, and something else was left behind, denser, older. Mariel stroked her face with the back of her hand, tracing her jaw, her cheekbone, the curve of her lip. She slipped two fingers into her mouth and Bianca sucked them slowly, looking into her eyes, until they were soaked. Then Mariel brought them to her own cunt and rubbed herself with her sister’s saliva, so Bianca could watch her do it.

They kissed. It wasn’t the voracious kiss Bianca would have given her rival, all teeth and challenge. It was slow, deep, wet, a kiss that didn’t need to beat anyone at anything. Mariel held her face between her hands while her tongue sank in slowly, and Bianca answered by shifting until their bodies lined up, skin to skin, tits to tits, without a single inch of distance between them. She felt her sister’s hard nipple press into hers and moaned into Mariel’s mouth.

—Little sister —Mariel whispered against her mouth, and the forbidden word raised goosebumps on both their skins as always—. You’ve got to get even. Don’t let it go. Go show her what this family is made of. Go make her swallow your cunt until she begs your forgiveness.

She bit her lower lip with a softness that contradicted the order, and at the same time pinched her nipple between thumb and forefinger. Bianca smiled, eyes blazing.

—Of course I’m going to get even. But right now… right now I want to be with you. Right now I want to eat you whole.

She winked and caught Mariel’s upper lip between her own, sucking it just a little, drawing a sigh from her. Mariel didn’t answer with words. No words were needed. She slid a hand down her sister’s side, following the curve of her hip, grabbed her ass, and pulled her closer until there was no space left between them. Bianca felt Mariel’s thigh wedge between hers and ground her cunt against it, rubbing slowly, leaving the trace of her wetness on the skin.

Bianca let her do it. For the first time in two weeks she didn’t think about defeat, or the skinny rival with the skilled tongue, or the revenge that sooner or later was going to come. There was only Mariel’s mouth traveling over her neck, down her clavicle, catching one nipple and sucking it deep, her tongue circling the way she knew Bianca liked. Then the other breast. Then her belly, with that tongue leaving a trail of saliva that made her muscles tighten. The hands that knew her by memory spread her legs without needing to ask, and the familiar weight of her sister’s body settled between them.

Mariel blew softly over the open cunt before dipping down. She licked her from bottom to top, all of her, with a broad, firm tongue, gathering up everything that was wet. Bianca let out a long moan and buried her fingers in her sister’s hair. Mariel knew her. She knew Bianca liked to be worked slowly at first, with a flat tongue, not going straight to the clit. She knew when to change the rhythm, when to harden the tip and make tight circles, when to slip in two fingers and curl them upward. And she did it all, unhurried, listening to Bianca’s body.

—I love you —Mariel said between licks, her mouth shining—, I love you so much, little sister.

—And I love you —Bianca answered, her voice broken up—. More than I should.

That phrase, “more than I should,” was the summary of everything. Of the years hiding, of the stolen looks at birthdays, of the excuses invented to sneak away for a weekend. No one would ever understand it and the two of them had long since stopped caring.

Bianca arched her back and pressed Mariel’s head against her cunt when the orgasm started building in her belly. Mariel understood and drove two fingers all the way in while she licked her clit with her whole mouth, not letting up. The climax hit her hard, in waves, and Bianca screamed into the pillow as her hips shook on their own and her cunt clenched around her sister’s fingers. Mariel didn’t move until she felt the last shudder leave her body, and only then did she rise, her face wet, and give her a deep kiss so Bianca could taste herself.

Then she turned over and offered her cunt, straddling Bianca’s face, and Bianca grabbed her by the ass and pulled her down in one sharp motion. She buried her tongue in her without preamble, searched for her inside, sucked her as if she were thirsty. Mariel braced herself on the headboard, fondled her tits with both hands, and moved slowly over her sister’s mouth, setting the rhythm herself, until she came too, long and silent, biting her knuckles so she wouldn’t cry out.

The breeze kept coming in through the windows, cool over flushed skin, and the city lights kept trembling on the river, indifferent to what was happening in that room. The rival remained on the other side of the night, waiting for her turn.

The revenge would come. But that one, as Mariel said while letting herself fall again onto her sister’s chest, would be another story.