My Brother Did What My Husband Never Could

The problem wasn’t menopause. Mariana knew that, even though she lied to herself every morning in front of the mirror. She was forty-two, with a body that still worked for her and a dull, simmering rage that had been building in her chest for months. Everything irritated her: the fights with Andrés, her mother’s comments, the boys coming home late, her own voice when she asked them to turn the music down.

That afternoon, after an absurd argument with Andrés over something she could no longer even remember, she grabbed the phone and called Celeste, her sister-in-law and best friend since childhood.

—Let’s go out for a drink. I need to breathe.

Celeste didn’t ask questions. By eight they were at a table in the back of a small bar near the river, with two glasses of white wine and just enough light to talk about serious things without really looking at each other.

—I’ve known you for thirty years, Mari. This isn’t a fight with Andrés.

—It’s everything and nothing.

—Start with something.

Mariana stirred the wine with her finger and let out the air as if she’d been carrying it since March.

—It’s been almost a year since he’s touched me. And when he did touch me, it wasn’t any better.

Celeste wasn’t surprised. She took a sip, set the glass down, and looked at her with that blunt honesty only old friends have.

—Wasn’t better how?

—Not enough. Andrés was always fast. He’d get inside me, give me four thrusts, and it was over, moaning against my shoulder. I’d be left halfway there, with my cunt swollen, waiting for a second round that never came. One day I stopped waiting.

—And now what?

—Now I’m in a foul mood all day. And at night it’s worse. I fall asleep with my legs pressed together, Celes. Like a fifteen-year-old girl.

Mariana worked up the nerve to ask what she’d been wanting to ask for months.

—And with Damián? How’s it for you?

—You want the truth, the truth?

—The truth.

—Your brother’s a beast, Mari. I’m the one who ends up running away.

Mariana let out a laugh that wasn’t entirely a laugh.

—That much?

—Every time he gets going, we end up at three in the morning and I don’t even know where I am. He makes me come three, four times. When I can’t take any more, he’s still hard as if he’d just started. Some nights I pray he’ll fall asleep before I do.

—I don’t believe you.

—I’m serious. And that’s after fifteen years. I’m telling you the truth: he’s huge, Mari. Huge and thick. The first time I saw it I thought, “There’s no way this fits.” And it did. And it still fits. Even now there are nights when he drives it all the way in and makes me see stars.

Mariana stayed silent for a long time. For the first time in a very long while, she felt heat between her legs that had nothing to do with the wine. She noticed her panties getting wet right there, in the bar chair, clenching her thighs under the table. Celeste kept talking, oblivious to the effect of every word: she described details, positions, the way Damián grabbed her hair, the way he looked up at her when she was on top, how he asked her to suck his cock all the way before he put it in, how he spread her ass cheeks with his thumbs to look at her while he fucked her doggy-style. Mariana nodded and asked for more, as if it were operational information, as if she needed to know.

—And you’re never afraid he’ll go looking for someone else?

—All the time. Sometimes I think I’m not enough for him.

Mariana squeezed her hand across the table and said nothing. She couldn’t say anything. Her cunt was soaked and an idea was working its way between her ribs that she’d never be able to get rid of again.

***

She went home with her head full of images she shouldn’t have had. She got into bed beside Andrés and, out of pure wounded pride, decided to make peace. She climbed on top of him, pulled down his boxers, took his soft cock in her hand and sucked it until it got hard, trying to imagine it was someone else’s. Andrés took it with his usual awkwardness. He mounted her for two minutes, thrust three or four times with those same short strokes as always, and came moaning against her ear before she’d even started to feel anything. Ten minutes later he was asleep with his mouth open and she was more awake and more aroused than before, staring at the ceiling with her husband’s semen running down between her thighs and her desire still intact.

My own brother. This is insane.

She thought it to herself that way, quietly inside her head, and was surprised not to be horrified. She slipped a hand under her nightdress and touched herself, slowly, with two fingers on her clit and her eyes closed, biting her lip so she wouldn’t wake Andrés. She imagined Damián on top, her brother’s hard cock splitting her open, his deep voice against her ear saying filthy things. She came softly, with a long spasm, and fell asleep with her fingers still between her legs.

The idea came back that night, and the next day, and the day after. It came back when she showered, when she soaped her breasts slowly and stood staring at herself in the bathroom mirror, assessing the body that so many years of dieting and the gym had preserved: her tits still firm, her nipples large and dark, her stomach flat, her ass round and high. It came back in the office, while she read emails without understanding what they said, crossing and uncrossing her legs under the desk. It always came back with Celeste’s voice in the background, proudly telling wife-ly things that should never have been said.

One afternoon, after three strange days, she went in embarrassed to a sex shop downtown and asked the girl at the counter for a dildo. She asked for the biggest one they had. She made up a story that it was a bachelorette-party gift. The girl smiled as if she’d heard them all and handed her a thick, long, skin-colored silicone one with pronounced veins. Mariana took it and felt its weight in her hand. “This is the one,” she thought. She carried the bag pressed tight against her chest to the car.

That night, while Andrés watched a match in the living room and the youngest was playing on the computer, she locked herself in the upstairs bathroom. She stripped in front of the mirror, looked at herself front and profile, touched her tits, pinched her nipples until they stood hard and pink. She sat on the edge of the toilet with her legs spread wide. She spat on her fingers, ran them over her already soaked cunt, and slid the tip of the toy in slowly, biting her free hand so she wouldn’t make a sound. The rubber went in with a wet smack. She pushed farther. More. She felt herself opening up inside, the thick thing that wasn’t her husband’s settling inside her, and she started moving it slowly, in and out, while her other hand rubbed her clit in tight circles.

She tried to think of a coworker, an actor, anybody. It didn’t work. The only thing that made her thrust harder was imagining that the rubber was Damián’s cock, that the breath against her neck was Damián’s breath, that the hands squeezing her hips were her brother’s. She shoved the dildo all the way in, bit the palm of her hand, and started fucking herself hard, pulling it out and driving it back in, pulling it out and driving it back in, hearing the liquid sound of her cunt with every thrust. “Dami, Dami, Dami,” she whispered, and was ashamed she’d said it even though she was alone. She came almost screaming through her teeth, clinging to the shower curtain, the toy still inside her and her legs trembling, while a little trickle of wetness slipped from between her thighs. She stayed shaking for a long while on the cold floor, still with her legs open, staring at the shiny dildo lying on the tiles.

***

Three weeks went by like that. Three weeks of the toy, of the bathroom door locked, of watching Damián at every family dinner with the face women wear when they’re hiding an enormous secret. Damián had always been affectionate with her. He hugged her when he greeted her, put a hand on her waist for photos, ruffled her hair like he did when they were kids. Now each of those touches was a current that went straight down to her sex. Her panties got wet in the middle of family lunch. There was a Sunday dinner at her mother’s house when Mariana had to go to the bathroom twice to splash cold water on her face and slip two quick fingers inside herself to bring the pressure down, leaning against the sink, biting her lip.

And then the call came.

—Mari, I wanted to ask you for a huge favor. I’m going away for a week to Cabo Polonio with a friend, and Damián just started his new job. He won’t be able to take care of the cat. You know how he is, he won’t even change the water for her if you hold a gun to his head. Could you stop by a couple of times and feed her?

—Of course, Celes. Go, don’t worry.

She hung up and stood in the middle of the living room, the phone still in her hand and heat climbing up from the back of her neck. A whole week alone with her brother. A week without Celeste in the house. She had the keys and she had the excuse. The rest was just a matter of nerve.

***

On Monday afternoon, after work, Mariana locked herself in the bathroom for an hour. She showered, shaved her entire pussy, something she hadn’t done in years — Celeste had mentioned in passing, once, that it was one of Damián’s weaknesses — and put on black lingerie Andrés didn’t even know existed: a lace bra that lifted her tits and a tiny thong that barely covered her freshly shaved cunt. Over that, a short dress with a low-cut white blouse. She looked at herself in the mirror, fixed her hair, and said out loud:

—If he throws me out, he throws me out.

But she didn’t think he would throw her out.

Damián opened the door with his work shirt still on and his tie loose. He looked her up and down and laughed.

—Where are you going all dolled up, little sister?

—To feed my favorite sister-in-law’s cat.

—Come in, come in. Don’t stay at the door.

They fed the cat together, laughing, and then he offered her a beer in the living room. They sat on the long sofa. Mariana settled in sideways, crossed her legs toward him, and let her blouse open one extra button more than necessary. Damián talked about the new job, about his unbearable boss, about traffic. She listened only half-heartedly, watching how her brother’s eyes kept dropping to her cleavage and climbing back up, pretending not to.

—You’re very beautiful today, Mari. I’m serious. My brother-in-law is lucky.

—I don’t know if he notices.

—Something’s wrong with him.

—Something’s wrong with me. With me.

Damián looked at her more slowly. Mariana took a deep breath.

—It’s been almost a year since he’s touched me, Dami. And before that, it wasn’t exactly anything to write home about either.

—Are you serious?

—Why would I lie to you?

He fell silent. He put the beer on the table. Mariana kept going, because if she stopped, her courage would slip away.

—Your wife tells me things, you know? Things about you. About how you are in bed. About how you leave her. What you do to her. She told me how you grab her hair. She told me you make her come three, four times. She told me how you’ve got it.

—Mari, no…

—And I spend all day thinking about that. All day. I touch myself thinking about you, Dami. I bought a dildo and I use it thinking about you. I swear I can’t take it anymore.

Damián ran a hand over his face. Mariana saw, without meaning to, how his pants pulled tight on one side, how his cock was outlined against the fabric. She didn’t point it out. There was no need.

—Mari, we’re siblings.

—I know.

—You know that.

—I know everything. I know we shouldn’t. I know it isn’t done. I know I’m going to have to live with this tomorrow. Look at me and tell me you don’t want me. Look at my mouth and tell me you don’t want to put it in me.

Damián looked at her. Mariana stood up slowly, unhurriedly, and unbuttoned her blouse one button at a time in front of him. The blouse fell to the floor. She pulled the zipper of her dress down at the side and let it slide to her ankles. She was left standing in the black bra and thong, her hair falling over one shoulder, her chest rising and falling fast.

—Please, Mari…

—Don’t say “please” like you’re asking me to stop. Ask me seriously or shut up.

Damián said nothing. Mariana walked the two steps that separated them, grabbed his loose tie with her left hand, and gently pulled him forward. He stood up as if moved by a thread. He ran his hands over her waist, then over her ass, squeezing her hard with both hands, and after looking at her one more second, he kissed her. He kissed her with tongue, deep, dirty, as if he’d been wanting to do it for months, as if the word “sister” didn’t exist, as if she were the only woman in the world in that living room.

Mariana lowered her hand and squeezed his cock through his pants. It was hard, thick, long against her palm. She felt, against her hip and now against her fingers, what Celeste had described to her for months. It wasn’t literature. It was real. She pulled down the zipper right there, slipped her hand into his briefs, and took it out. She held it in her hand, looked at it, and let out a gasp. It was bigger than the dildo. It was bigger than any cock she’d ever had in her life.

—It’s enormous, Dami.

—Come here — he said against her mouth.

—Take me.

***

They left clothes strewn down the hallway. His shirt on a chair. His pants and briefs tossed to one side. The black bra near the bedroom door. The thong already ripped off in the doorway, because Damián had yanked it down without care and left it there. They fell onto the marital bed — Celeste’s bed, the bed of so many nights recounted in bars — and Mariana didn’t even allow herself to think about that. Thinking was a luxury for calm women, and she was not calm that afternoon.

Damián kissed her neck, worked his way down the middle of her chest, grabbed her tits with both hands and sucked her nipples one by one, first gently, then biting them, tugging them with his teeth until he dragged the year’s first honest moan out of her. Mariana dug her nails into his back.

—Suck them hard. Like that. Like that.

He went down her stomach, licked her navel, kissed her hips. He opened her legs with his knee and settled himself between them, his mouth pressed to the inside of her thigh, his three-day stubble scraping her skin from the inside.

—Do you really want this?

—I’m begging you, Dami. Lick my cunt. Lick it, please.

He lowered his mouth to her freshly shaved sex and stayed there. He ran his whole tongue from bottom to top, slowly, tasting her. Then he opened her pussy lips with his thumbs and buried his tongue inside her, fucking her with his mouth. Mariana arched her back and moaned without covering herself. Damián sucked her clit, pinched it between his lips, licked it in circles, then hard, then slowly again, alternating tongue and two fingers slipping in and out of her soaked cunt. Mariana finished arched against the mattress with one hand gripping his hair and the other squeezing one breast, moving his head against her pussy without a trace of shame.

—There, there, there, don’t stop. Suck it. Don’t stop, you fucking bastard, don’t stop…

She came the first time without warning, almost angrily, gripping his hair as if she wanted to punish him for taking so many years to get there. She felt the orgasm explode from her clit and run down her legs while Damián kept licking up everything that spilled from her without letting go. When he finally lifted his face, his mouth was shining and he had a smile that split her right in half.

—And I haven’t even come yet and you’re already someone else.

—Come here. Get on top. Put it in me now.

Damián climbed up, settled himself between her legs, and took his cock in his hand. He ran the tip over the lips of her cunt from top to bottom, wetting himself well, rubbing it against her clit until Mariana pushed her hips toward him, seeking him.

—Put it in me now, Dami. Please. Put all of it in me.

He looked her in the eyes before entering. He gave her time to regret it. Mariana dug her heels into his lower back and pushed him inside herself. She felt him enter in one go, full, deep, without asking permission, splitting her open, touching bottom. She let out a long moan that escaped from a place in her that had been shut for years. She felt split, filled, fucked for the first time in years.

—Oh my God. Oh my God, Dami. You’re huge.

—Like that. Like that. Please don’t stop.

—I’m not going to stop.

He grabbed her hips and fucked her slowly at first, as if he wanted to measure her, see how much she could take. He pulled his cock all the way out and pushed it back in little by little, watching her face as he went in. Mariana watched her belly rise every time he drove his cock all the way in. Then harder. Harder. The bed started hitting the wall with a dry rhythm. Damián grabbed both her hands, pinned them to the pillow above her head, and started really fucking her, with long, deep thrusts that made her tits bounce against his chest.

—Look at it going in. Look. Look how it goes into you, little sister.

—Yes, yes, like that, fuck me, fuck me hard, don’t go easy on me.

Then brutal. He grabbed her ankles, put them over his shoulders, folded her almost in two and drove his cock to the hilt, slamming her with his pelvis on every thrust. The sound of her soaked cunt swallowing that cock filled the room. Mariana was crying with pleasure, hair stuck to her forehead, mouth open.

When she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he pulled out, flipped her over in one motion, lifted her hips, spread her knees apart and took her from behind, one firm hand on her nape pressing her face into the pillow and the other squeezing a breast, his fingers pinching her nipple. He drove his cock all the way in at once, to the hilt, and Mariana gave a muffled scream into the pillowcase.

—This is how your husband fucks you, Mari? He fucks you like this?

—No. No, not like this. Never like this. No one’s ever fucked me like this.

—Tell me how you want it.

—All of it. I want all of it. Break me.

Damián fucked her from behind without mercy, hands on her hips, pulling her onto his cock every time he thrust. He ran his thumb over her mouth, wet it, and stroked the entrance to her ass with it, not inserting it, only pressing lightly, and Mariana let out a new moan. He grabbed her hair, wound it around his fist, pulled back and kept driving into her until Mariana came a second time with her face in the pillow, trembling all over, her cunt spasming around his cock. And a third time minutes later, no longer understanding what position she was in, no longer knowing where she ended and the bed began. Damián had put her on her back again, spread her legs wide, and was fucking her while looking into her eyes, every so often bending down to suck a nipple or kiss her mouth with a mouth that still tasted like cunt.

Damián was still hard. Still. And still.

—It’s true what your wife said — she muttered, laughing and crying a little at the same time.

—Shut up.

She climbed on top of him. She positioned herself with his cock between the lips of her cunt and drove it into herself, lowering slowly until she sat down fully on him. There she stayed for a second, trembling, feeling him fill her. Then she started riding him, hands on his chest, moving up and down, letting her tits shake in full view. Damián grabbed her breasts, squeezed them, sucked them from below. He grabbed her ass with both hands, spread her cheeks, helped her move.

—Like that. Like that, little sister. Fuck me yourself.

She fucked him a while longer like that, unhurried, and in the end, when she heard him breathing faster against her ear — he’d put her on her back again, over her, pushing hard — she herself thrust her hips upward so he’d finish inside. She told him “inside, come on, inside, come inside, I want to feel it” as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Damián groaned long and low, dug his fingers into her hip, gave three, four more deep, brutal thrusts, and emptied himself into her with a shudder that made her come once more, gripping the bed frame, legs trembling. Mariana felt the hot spurts filling her from within, felt his cock throbbing inside her as it unloaded, felt for the first time in her life what it was to have a man fill her with semen for real.

They fell on their sides, embracing, breathing like animals that had just escaped from something. Damián was still inside her. She didn’t let him come out yet.

***

They stayed like that, in silence, for a long time. Damián stroked her back with the tips of his fingers. Mariana lowered her hand and laid her palm over his cock, now outside, and noticed that after all that it still had a certain hardness, a certain size that Andrés, on the best day of his life, had never reached. She stroked it slowly, all of it, from base to tip, and was surprised by how it was already starting to respond again under her hand.

—What are you thinking about? —he asked.

—That I don’t regret it. And that you just ruined me for any other cock.

—You shouldn’t be telling me that.

—I know. And you shouldn’t be listening.

Damián laughed softly against her hair. Mariana lowered her face, ran her tongue over his chest, kept going down, and without saying anything she took his cock in her hand and put it in her mouth. She sucked him all the way, tasting the mixed flavor of both of them, looking up at him with shining eyes. Damián held her head and let her do it, moaning quietly. Mariana looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand and realized how late it was, with her brother’s cock still in her mouth.

—I have to go.

—Don’t go.

—I have to go, Dami. Seriously.

He kissed her again, slowly, with his taste in her mouth, and before she could fully sit up he had her under him again, legs open and his cock inside her once more. They did it a second time, shorter, calmer, but with the same hunger. He fucked her on her side, one of her legs lifted over his hip, going in and out slowly, kissing her mouth while he fucked her. Mariana came again, silently, squeezing his arm, and felt him cum a second time inside her, with a long exhale against her neck.

When Mariana finally got dressed, at the door, hair a mess, blouse fastened wrong and her brother’s semen dripping inside her thighs, Damián held her wrist a second longer than necessary.

—Tomorrow we still have to feed the cat.

—I know.

—Come early.

—I’ll come early.

She got into the car and drove home feeling a small ache between her legs, and her cunt still full, which was the closest thing to happiness she’d remembered in years. Andrés was asleep on the couch with the TV on. She passed by without waking him, got into the shower, and stayed under the water for a long time, watching Damián’s semen run down the insides of her thighs, smiling to herself, counting the hours until she could go back to that bed.