Camila Didn’t Know the Office Camera Was Still On

My father-in-law had always been a man obsessed with control. So when he asked me to install the cameras in the company office and the living room of the chalet, I knew that sooner or later I’d have to review what those cameras were recording. What I hadn’t imagined was that the stars of the videos would be his own children.

The signal appeared on my screen in the middle of the afternoon. The image was from Camila’s office at the headquarters. She was wearing a white blouse open to the second button, a very short black skirt, and dark stockings that ended in a barely visible garter belt. She was sitting sideways in her chair, going over a report, when Andrés came in.

Andrés is her older brother. He’s married to Lucía, one of my best friends, and at the office he has a reputation for not letting a secretary go without trying her first. Camila welcomed him with a smile that, from the other side of the screen, I already sensed was anything but innocent.

—Come in, little brother, close the door —she told him. Andrés obeyed.

—What’s going on, Camila? —he asked, in that voice of someone who knows something isn’t right.

—What’s going on is that there’s a rumor in the halls that you’re fucking half the staff. And it turns out Lucía isn’t just your wife; she’s also my sister-in-law and one of my few friends. I should tell her, don’t you think?

Andrés turned pale. He told her that would ruin his marriage, that please don’t do it, that he was willing to do anything.

—Anything? —she repeated, and her smile turned wicked.

***

Camila stood up very slowly and walked around the desk to sit on the edge of it, right in front of him. Her skirt rode up a couple of inches.

—The girls talk a lot about you, little brother. Especially about your dick. And it turns out I’m curious. It’s very simple: either you show it to me, or I call Lucía this very afternoon.

Andrés took two seconds to unbuckle his belt, pull down his pants, and strip off his boxer briefs. He stood in front of his sister with his cock hanging there, still soft, while she bit her lip with a look I had seen on her mother at some family gatherings.

—Not bad at all —Camila said, brushing the base with the tip of her fingers.

Andrés’s cock responded at once. Camila stroked it with one hand, unhurriedly, while with the other she unbuttoned her blouse. When her bra came into view, she whispered in his ear:

—If I show you mine, it’s only fair that you give me your tongue. I’ve heard that with the office girls you like licking their asses. Well, with me you’re going to do the same.

She pulled up her skirt, tugged her black thong down to her ankles, and before Andrés could say a word, she bent over the back of the chair, offering herself. My brother-in-law knelt without protest. I, from my screen, couldn’t look away.

Andrés ran his tongue over her ass and over the lips of her pussy, while with two fingers he fingered her in slow circles. Camila clutched the backrest and let out a long, restrained moan, as if she were still afraid someone might hear her on the other side of the door.

—Little brother, you’re very good at this —she murmured—. Now I understand why all the women in the corridor are crazy about you.

But Camila wasn’t in the mood for long games. After a couple of minutes she turned her head and, already thick-voiced, asked him to fuck her.

***

Andrés stood behind her. He held her hip with one hand and, with the other, guided his cock to the entrance of her pussy. He thrust all the way in with one push. Camila bit down on the back of her hand to keep from crying out.

—Fuck, sister —he said, grabbing her by the hair—. I never thought you’d be such a slut. Doesn’t your husband know how to appreciate you?

—No, little brother —she answered between thrusts—. My husband barely touches me. And when he does, he does it much worse than you’re doing it now. So keep going.

And he did. He changed positions three times in five minutes. He sat her on the chair and got underneath her. He laid her across the small side table in the corner and yanked her legs apart. He ended up throwing her onto the rug, with him on his knees and her lying on her back, a cushion under her hips to lift her pussy.

—Take that, slut —Andrés panted—. There, this is what you were missing.

And Camila, far from being offended, asked for more. She laughed between moans, bit her knuckles, grabbed his hand and brought it to her tits so he’d squeeze them harder.

When Andrés felt he was about to come, he asked her where she wanted it.

—You can fill my other holes another day —she answered—. Right now what I want is to taste it.

She knelt on the floor, like an obedient schoolgirl, and took him into her mouth. Andrés came a few seconds later, and his load spilled onto Camila’s lips, her chin, the base of her neck. She smiled, swallowed some of it, and wiped the rest with a tissue she pulled from the drawer.

***

But it didn’t end there. Andrés, still with his cock wet, sat her in the chair, spread her legs, and knelt between them. He ate her pussy calmly, like someone going over a job well done. Camila grabbed her brother’s hair and, after a few minutes, came. A long orgasm, shameless, with a muffled cry that in any normal office would have drawn attention.

When she was still trembling, he lifted her up, put her on all fours on the meeting table, and fucked her again. This time he took her without mercy, gripping her hips, slapping her ass with every thrust. Camila moaned, begged for more, told him they’d spent their whole lives wasting time.

They finished in a simple position: Andrés seated in the leather armchair, her riding him on top. She drove his cock into herself at her own pace, her tits in his face, her back arched. When he came, he flooded her pussy and asked her not to get up right away. Camila stayed there, seated on top of him, for a couple of minutes. Then she got dressed with a calm that was almost frightening.

And the connection cut out.

***

The second time the camera activated, two days later, the image was no longer of the office. It was the living room of my father-in-law’s chalet. Camila was on the sofa, barefoot, wearing a denim miniskirt and a strappy top. She was looking at her phone with a distant smile, as if she were rereading old conversations.

Mateo, her younger brother, came in behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. Camila startled. She turned her head.

—Easy, little sister —he told her, without taking his hands away—. Andrés already told me about the office. We tell each other everything, you know that. And you won’t lose anything either because I do the same thing he did to you.

Camila was speechless for a second. Then she turned around on the sofa, knelt on the cushions, and took off his jacket. Mateo loosened his tie. She unbuttoned his shirt, button by button, without taking her eyes off his.

—You’re hot as hell, little brother —she told him, while she unzipped him—. No wonder your wife is always so horny.

When she got him naked, Camila took off her top with one hand and pulled out his cock with the other. She took it into her mouth slowly, savoring it. Mateo rested his hands on her nape and set the pace for a couple of minutes, until she pulled back, hiked up her miniskirt, and lay down on her back on the sofa.

—Andrés says your pussy is hot —he murmured, while he moved her thong aside—. And tasty. There’s only one way I can check that.

Mateo knelt on the rug. He parted her thighs gently and ran his tongue the full length of her pussy. Camila arched, clutched the cushion, and let out the first real moan. I, on the other side of the screen, felt my mouth go dry.

***

After a long few minutes, Mateo straightened up, sat on the sofa, and pulled her toward him. Camila rode him as if she’d done it a hundred times. She drove his cock in with each descent, bit his neck, whispered in his ear.

—Truthfully —he panted, gripping her ass—, Andrés wasn’t exaggerating. You’re the wildest of the three.

—The wildest? —she laughed—. I’m the best you’re ever going to taste.

Mateo grabbed her by the waist and turned her without pulling out. He set her on all fours on the sofa and kept fucking her from behind, this time rougher, grabbing her hair with one hand.

—What a shame, all those years wasted looking for pussy outside —he told her between thrusts—, when I had you at home.

—Me too, brother. Me too.

He fucked her standing up, against the back of the sofa, while he looped one arm around her neck. He fucked her lying on her side, lifting one leg. He ended up throwing her onto the rug, her back against the cold wood, and driving her knees up to her chest.

Camila came first, with a cry that made the ceiling lamp tremble. Mateo held on a couple more minutes and came inside her, without warning, without asking.

When they both caught their breath, she sat up, put her palm on his chest, and said:

—I want to taste what you left.

She sucked his cock again, until it was completely clean. Then she let herself fall back onto the sofa, smiling, still naked, still with her pussy open.

—What a marvel —she sighed— having brothers so fucking horny.

—And what a marvel, little sister, having a sister so slutty —he answered—. Especially if that means the idiot of your husband stays home with a pair of horns every night.

The two of them laughed. Then they got dressed unhurriedly, picked up the glasses, and went upstairs to the bathroom to tidy themselves up. My father-in-law was about to arrive.

***

What neither Andrés nor Mateo knew —and what I, thanks to the camera, did know— is that Camila’s complicit smile at the end was no accident. Her father had been setting the stage for months. The cameras were where they were because he had asked me to put them there. He had been removing from the family calendar everything that didn’t fit, had made the three siblings coincide in impossible schedules, had been sowing controlled rumors about Andrés’s affairs.

My father-in-law wanted incest to be part of the domestic landscape. And Camila, as I was able to verify later, knew it perfectly well.

And once again, the connection cut out.