My Sister Came Back from the Club Without Underwear

The door opened with a sharp bang that had nothing to do with its usual familiarity. It wasn’t the soft noise of every night, but something abrupt, almost desperate, followed by the metallic screech of a forced lock. I got up from the couch where I was pretending to watch a movie, and a strange unease ran up my back.

It was Saturday and the house was empty except for me. My parents had gone off to the coast for the weekend with some friends, and Lucía, my younger sister, had gone out early. She always moved with that slightly awkward grace she’d had since she was a kid, a warmth in the way she walked that was impossible to hide. That night, though, she could barely stay on her feet.

She came in and stopped against the doorframe, as if the door were the only thing holding her together. Her hair, that dark cascade she always wore impeccably, hung in disarray over her shoulders, with strands stuck to her forehead with sweat. Her makeup, usually subtle, was a mess: the mascara had drawn two black rivers down her pale cheeks.

She was wearing a black dress, short and tight, made of a shiny fabric that was now wrinkled. She smelled of cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, and something else, thick, that I couldn’t identify at first. Now I know it was the smell of someone else’s semen.

She slammed the door shut, making the pictures tremble, and sank back against the wood, her head thrown back and her eyes closed. She was breathing in ragged gulps, mouth open, as if she had just run for hours.

“Luchi, are you okay?” I asked, coming closer carefully. My voice came out lower than I wanted.

She opened her eyes slowly. They were two glassy wells, lost somewhere on the wall behind me. She didn’t answer. She slid down until she was sitting on the floor, legs apart, in a posture of utter abandon that wasn’t like her at all. Her dress had ridden up to her waist and I saw she wasn’t wearing panties. Her thighs gleamed with dry, sticky trails running down from her cunt to her knees.

“Where were you?” I managed to say, my throat tight.

At last she looked me in the eye. A lone tear rolled down her cheek, taking some of the smeared mascara with it.

“At a club,” she murmured. Her voice came out rough, broken. She rubbed her face with her hands and made the mess worse. “I went out dancing.”

I knelt in front of her, not knowing what to do. I wanted to hug her, calm her down, but something murky was rising in my chest and I struggled to recognize it. She was a foot away from me, her cunt swollen and shining in plain view, and I couldn’t stop looking.

“And what happened? Why are you back like this?”

She paused so long I thought she wasn’t going to answer. She looked down at her own legs, as if only then noticing how exposed she was. She still didn’t cover herself.

“I was bored,” she said at last, in a flat voice. “I wanted to dance, feel the music, lose myself for a while. I had a couple of drinks and loosened up. I started moving, sweating. People looked at me. They always look at me.”

She stopped and ran her tongue over her dry lips. I could see they were swollen, and at one corner there was a whitish crust that made my stomach and my groin twist at the same time.

“Two guys showed up. I don’t know where they came from. One tall, in a leather jacket. The other shorter, broad, with a beard. They came over when I was dancing alone and, without saying a word, they surrounded me.”

My stomach knotted. I felt a hot, bitter lump in my throat. I kept listening, hypnotized, as if she were telling me someone else’s story, even though every word was about her, about my own blood.

“The one in the jacket put a hand on my waist,” Lucía went on, her voice a little steadier. “The other stayed behind, pressed up close, and I felt his breath on the back of my neck. And I felt his hard dick against my ass, over the dress, outlined, huge. I started dancing between the two of them. They squeezed me, pushed me from one to the other. I could have left. I didn’t. I started rubbing myself against the one behind me while the one in front shoved his knee between my legs and pressed it against my cunt.”

She closed her eyes, reliving the scene. Her breathing quickened again.

“They took me to a dark corner near the bathrooms. There was hardly any light there. The one in the jacket kissed me. A brutal kiss, with tongue, all of it, biting my lips. While he was kissing me, the other lifted my dress from behind and grabbed my ass with both hands. He spread my cheeks and ran one whole finger down my ass crack, slowly, until he found my cunt. He whispered in my ear that I was hot, that it showed, that I was dripping onto his hand.”

A shiver ran through me, a mix of discomfort and something I was ashamed to name. Without realizing it, I pressed my legs together to hide the erection already tightening in my pants.

“And you…?” I asked, and couldn’t finish the sentence.

She opened her eyes and looked at me with a burning intensity.

“And me what?” she said, with a tired half-smile. “You want to know if I liked it? I did. I loved feeling desired like that, like I was the only thing that existed in that corner. I let go. For once I wasn’t the neat girl everyone expects. I was a slut. A happy slut. Does that bother you?”

Her words hit me like a blow. I didn’t move. I needed to hear the rest. For some twisted reason, I needed to know that part of my sister I’d never seen.

“The bearded one knelt down,” she went on, in a whisper, like someone confessing a dirty secret. “He separated my legs with his knee and yanked my panties off. The fabric gave way like paper. He started touching me with his whole open hand. I was wet, dripping. I don’t know if it was the drinks, the music, or the situation. He slid two fingers into me slowly, then three, moving them around inside while the other one kissed my neck and shoved his tongue into my ear. Then the bearded one buried his face between my legs. He licked my cunt right there, against the wall, with people passing close by. He licked everything, the whole slit, the clit, stuck his tongue inside me and made noise, sucking hard. I came standing up there, against the wall, biting my hand so I wouldn’t scream, pushing his head into my cunt until he ran out of air.”

My own breathing had grown heavy. I felt a guilty tension building in my body, a heat that seemed monstrous and that I couldn’t put out. My cock was pounding inside my pants, hard as stone.

“When I finished coming, the one in the jacket pulled me up by the shoulders,” she said, and her voice trembled just a little. “He made me kneel. He pulled his dick out right there, in the hallway, and pressed it to my mouth. It was thick, long, with a purple head. He shoved it in without asking me. He grabbed my hair with both hands and rammed it down my throat, made me swallow the whole thing, it hit my throat, I was gagging and he didn’t let up. He’d pull it out, smack it against my face, my lips, and shove it back in. I sucked it really well, there on my knees, choking, drool running down my chin. Meanwhile the bearded one had gotten behind me, lifted my dress again, and was stuffing me with his dick from behind, standing up, pushing me into the other guy’s mouth every time he drove into me.”

She swallowed. I couldn’t move.

“They fucked me like that for a long while, sandwiched between the two of them. One behind fucking my cunt, the other in front fucking my mouth. The one in the jacket’s cock scraped my palate. I could feel my ass tightening every time the other one thrust into me. And I liked it. I liked being the hole for both of them.”

She paused. She ran a hand through her sticky hair.

“After that they took turns. They put me on all fours against some crates. The bearded one pulled out of my cunt and told the other, ‘Try her, she’s fucking good.’ And the one in the jacket shoved it into my cunt. His dick was thicker. He opened me up, made me moan loud. He rammed it in to the hilt with both hands gripping my hips. Meanwhile the bearded one stood in front of me and shoved his cock into my mouth, all wet, tasting like me, like my cunt. He made me suck it. I sucked it feeling myself, tasting my own flavor, and it didn’t gross me out, it only turned me on more.”

She lifted her eyes and looked at me without blinking.

“The one behind me, at one point, pulled his cock out of my cunt and put it in my ass. Nobody had ever fucked me there before. He pushed slowly but without asking. It burned, it stung, a scream slipped out of me that the other one covered with his hand. Then he pushed more and went in. He fucked my ass like that, on all fours, with that thick cock splitting me in two, and I let him. I let everything happen. The other one kept going in my mouth. I was open on both ends and I wasn’t thinking about anything. Not Mom, not Dad, not you. Only that music covering everything and my body making its own decisions.”

She fell silent, staring straight at me, a glimmer of a tear that never quite fell.

“They both came almost at the same time,” she continued, almost inaudibly. “The one in the jacket pulled his cock out of my mouth and came on my face. Hot spurts, in my eyes, on my lips, on my chin. I opened my mouth and tried to swallow what was falling. The other one buried his cock all the way in my ass and filled me up inside, I could feel it pulsing hot as he came, and it kept dripping down my thighs when he pulled it out. They told me ‘you’re a beautiful slut’ and left. They pulled up their pants and left me there, wrecked, leaning against the crates, my ass open and my face sticky. I wiped myself as best I could with the palm of my hand. I fixed my dress, looked for the torn panties on the floor and couldn’t find them. I lost them in some corner of that shitty club. I walked out with my legs weak, feeling what they’d left inside me running down my thighs. I took a taxi. And here I am.”

***

The silence after the confession was thick, almost solid. I could hear my own heart beating in my ears. The room smelled like her: sweat, cheap perfume, dried semen, an entire night condensed into her skin. I looked at her there on the floor, disheveled, stained, with her dress up around her waist and her cunt swollen and still shining, telling me about her surrender with a frankness that undid me.

And in the middle of the shock, I couldn’t stop it: I was hard. So hard that my cock was outlined obscenely against my pants, pointing at her face. It was a sick, dark arousal that filled me with shame. Her story had set me on fire in a way I didn’t dare admit even to myself.

She saw it. Her eyes dropped straight to my groin and a slow, tired, complicit smile curved her lips.

I got up slowly, my legs numb, and stood in front of her. Lucía was still on the floor, looking at me with eyes that were defiant and pleading at the same time.

“Get up,” I told her. My voice came out low, charged with a tension I didn’t recognize as my own.

She obeyed. She got to her feet trembling, bracing herself against the wall. Her body was a map of the night: wrinkled dress, smeared mascara, tousled hair, dry traces on her chin. She looked at me and understood, before I did, what was happening between us.

“And you?” she asked, very quietly. “Are you disgusted? Angry?”

I looked at her hard. There was no point lying to her.

“I’m turned on,” I confessed. “Turned on by you. By what you did. By what you just told me. My cock is hard as a rock thinking about you between those two guys.”

Something changed in her face. The hardness mixed with a soft surprise, almost relief. She stepped toward me and slid her hand over my pants, squeezing my whole dick with her palm.

“You’re a mess, little brother,” she whispered, and there was no reproach in it, only a kind of recognition. “Just like me. You’re bigger than I thought.”

I took her arm and pulled her to me. I kissed her without thinking, and she kissed me back at once, opening my mouth, gripping my T-shirt as if she were afraid I’d change my mind. The kiss tasted of alcohol, cigarettes, other men’s semen, and something forbidden that completely clouded me. I could taste the guys who’d fucked her on her tongue, and instead of disgust it made me harder.

I took her to my room half stumbling, without breaking the kiss. On the way I yanked the dress up over her head. She ended up naked, her tits out, bigger than I’d imagined, with dark swollen nipples from how much they’d been sucked. I saw the marks: finger marks on her hips, a purple bite on her neck, another on her left breast, bruises on her ass. She was used, marked, and like that, marked, she seemed more desirable to me than ever.

I pushed her onto the bed and she fell back, looking up at me with blazing eyes. She spread her legs on her own. Her cunt was red, swollen, shiny, with strands of semen still leaking out of her and staining the mattress.

“Come here,” she said, and ran two fingers through her slit, smearing herself. “Fuck me now. Fuck me like they did.”

I stripped off my clothes with clumsy hands. When my cock sprang free, hard and aimed at her, she ran her tongue over her lips. I knelt between her legs and buried my face in her cunt without thinking. I licked her where the others had finished, sucked her swollen clit, slipped my tongue inside and tasted the salty flavor of those men mixed with hers. I should have stopped. I didn’t. I licked harder, hungry, gripping her thighs while she writhed and shoved my head into her cunt.

“Like that, little brother,” she panted. “Suck me. Suck your sister’s cream. Get out what they left inside me.”

I licked her until her back arched and she clamped my face between her thighs, coming against my mouth with a long, hoarse, filthy moan.

I climbed over her, panting. I brushed the hair from her face and looked at her for a long second, giving her the last chance to stop everything. She didn’t take it. She grabbed my cock with her hand and guided it herself to the entrance of her cunt.

“Put it all the way in,” she told me, looking me in the eye. “Fuck your sister.”

I pushed in at once. I went all the way to the hilt. Lucía let out a deep moan and dug her nails into the sheet. She was so wet I slid in without resistance, felt her hot, tight, slick with her own arousal and with the others’. I kissed her neck as I moved, first slowly, then with a rhythm that grew on its own, driven by all the rage and all the confused desire I felt for her. The bed started banging against the wall, hard, rhythmic, louder each time.

“Like that,” she panted against my ear. “Harder. Don’t stop. Break me.”

I grabbed her ass with both hands and lifted her a little, changing the angle, driving it in deeper. She tugged my hair, scratched my back, moaned louder and louder. I felt her cunt suddenly clench around my cock and I knew she was coming again.

I pulled out. I flipped her over, put her on all fours, her ass raised, her back arched, and drove my cock back into her cunt with one thrust. I grabbed her hair with one hand and fucked her like that, pulling on it, listening to her moan against the mattress. I looked at her ass. I saw the other little hole, tight, still red from recent use. I ran my thumb over it. She pushed her hips back, offering it to me.

“Put it there too,” she said, her voice muffled against the pillow. “Fuck my ass. It’s already open for you.”

I pulled my cock out of her cunt, dripping, and pressed the tip against her asshole. I pushed. It went in more easily than I expected, still loose from the club session. She moaned loudly and arched her back more. My cock slid all the way in, I felt her ass tightening around it, hot, tighter than anything. I started fucking her there, gripping her hips, watching my cock go in and out of my sister’s ass, shiny, unable to believe what I was doing.

I flipped her again, put her on her back, and held her wrists against the mattress. I wanted to look at her face. I wanted her to know it was me, that this was different from what happened at the club, that this was something ours even if it had no name. I drove my cock back into her cunt, deep, and fucked her like that, looking at her.

“Look at me,” I told her. “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes and didn’t look away. We moved together, synchronized, her breathing mixing with mine. She bit her lip to keep from screaming and sometimes couldn’t manage it. I grabbed one breast, squeezed it, pinched the nipple. She moaned louder.

“Don’t let go of me,” she said, and her voice trembled. “Stay. Come inside.”

I felt her tense all at once, her whole body arched, her legs closing around my waist. She came with a muffled cry, digging her fingers into my arms, her cunt convulsing around my cock in tight waves. Watching her like that, falling apart under me, hearing her moan my name, pulled me under too. I didn’t pull out. I drove all the way in and came inside her in long pulses, filling her, feeling it seep out between us. I collapsed onto her chest, my forehead resting on her shoulder, panting, my cock still inside her, throbbing.

***

We stayed silent for a long while. Then I lay down beside her and held her tight. I felt what I’d left inside her slide down her thighs, mixing with what the others had left. She smelled like the whole night and now, also, like me. The room still hung heavy with that dense air, a mix of sweat, semen, and something neither of us would know how to explain the next day.

I propped myself up on one elbow to look at her. The dress tossed on the floor, her eyes finally calm, fixed on the ceiling, a white thread escaping from one corner of her mouth.

“Are you okay?” I asked quietly.

She turned her head slowly. She no longer had the lost look from the beginning. Now there was a strange calm there, almost relief.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I feel empty and full at the same time. It’s weird. It’s a beautiful piece of shit.”

She smiled, neither happy nor sad, but in pure recognition.

“And you?” she asked. “Do you regret it?”

I thought about it for a second. I should have said yes. I should have felt guilt, disgust, fear. I felt some of all that, and also the opposite.

“No,” I said. “And that’s what scares me most.”

She let out a low, guttural laugh and curled up against my chest.

“Welcome to the club,” she murmured. “I was always a mess. Today I decided not to hide it anymore. And it turns out you’re the same.”

I stroked her hair slowly, untangling a strand stuck to her cheek. Outside, dawn was beginning to break. The gray light slipped between the curtains and made me feel that, with morning, all of this should evaporate, become impossible. But she was still there, warm against my body, naked, dripping with me, and she wasn’t leaving.

“And now what?” I asked, more to myself than to her.

“Now we sleep,” she said, closing her eyes. “Tomorrow we’ll see. There are things it’s better not to rush to understand.”

I held her a little tighter. I knew nothing was ever going to be the same between us, that we had crossed a line with no way back. I knew it was a mistake, that it was forbidden, that if anyone heard about it no one would forgive it. And yet, lying there holding my sister while she fell asleep, I couldn’t find a single drop of regret inside me.

I closed my eyes too. Lucía’s breathing grew slow, even. The smell of the night slowly faded, until only hers remained, the familiar scent mixed with my semen between her legs, the one I’d known since I was a kid. I fell asleep listening to it, with the uneasy certainty that, in some twisted way, this was only the beginning of something neither of us was willing to let go.