My Sister Welcomed Me in Recife with a Surprise

Lucía was still young when the ground opened beneath her feet. She had stayed in Rosario those days to sit a March exam, and so she wasn’t in the car with her parents the dawn a truck crossed the median and erased them from the world in an instant. There was nothing left to wake over as she would have wanted: only twisted metal, a phone ringing unanswered, and a silence that sank into her chest and never left.

They left her a large house and enough money not to worry for a while. What they didn’t leave her was somewhere to go with her heart. Rosario’s walls screamed absences at her from every corner, and sleeping alone in that enormous house became torture.

Her older sister, Verónica, who had lived for years in Recife with her Brazilian husband, called her the same night of the funeral.

—Come here, Luci. Here you’ve got a house, you’ve got sun, you’ve got me. Don’t stay alone in that city crying against the tiles.

She didn’t think twice. She left the house in the hands of a real estate agency so they could rent it out, packed the essentials into a suitcase, and took the first flight she found. It was the beginning of something, even if she still didn’t know what.

The humid heat of the northeast slapped her as soon as she stepped onto the tarmac. Verónica was waiting on the other side of the glass with her arms open, more lush than Lucía remembered: a floral dress outlined her curves, her generous tits spilling from the neckline, her wide hips. Beside her, Tiago, her husband, a broad, dark-skinned man of about thirty-five, smiled with a whiteness that split his dark face in two.

—Bem-vinda, cunhada —he said, and left a kiss on her cheek that lingered a second too long, his hand resting on Lucía’s hip as if he were measuring the flesh under the fabric.

Lucía felt a strange tingle between her legs and chalked it up to travel fatigue.

***

The house sat at the top of a hill, modest, with the sea drawn in the distance like a promise. Two bedrooms, a small kitchen, and a patio with Paraguayan hammocks where the wind came in salty. Lucía moved into the guest room and barely left it for the first few days.

She cried at night, wrapped around an old T-shirt of her father’s that she had taken without thinking. Verónica would knock on her door with bitter mate, the taste of home, and lie down beside her to stroke her hair until she fell asleep.

—Don’t keep yourself shut away, Luci. Life is different here. You have to let the heat into your body.

Tiago, on the other hand, looked at her differently when Verónica wasn’t watching. Lucía noticed it on the back of her neck, that sensation of being watched while she washed dishes in a pair of shorts the heat had forced on her and that left half her ass out. She ignored it. She was too broken to pay attention to anything.

One afternoon, Verónica came into the kitchen and leaned against the counter with her arms crossed.

—Tonight people are coming over. Some of Tiago’s friends, good vibes. I’m not asking you to do anything, just to be there. To laugh a little, even if it’s only once.

—I’m not up for a party, Vero.

—Exactly because of that —her sister answered, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a tenderness that hurt—. Life goes on, baby. And sometimes you’ve got to give it a little push.

***

The friends arrived at sunset with beer and meat for the grill. Bruno was tall, easy to laugh, with a gold chain gleaming against his dark skin. Caio, younger, with the worked body of someone who lives near water, fixed his eyes on Lucía the moment he saw her and didn’t let go.

—Verónica falou de você —Caio said, mixing languages—. Disse que precisava distrair a cabeça.

Lucía blushed and, without meaning to, laughed. It was the first laugh in weeks, and she felt it like air after a long time underwater.

The night loosened up with the beer and the samba coming from the speaker. Tiago told stories with his hands, Bruno laughed out loud, and Verónica, every now and then, squeezed her husband’s knee under the table with an intimacy that suddenly seemed too obvious to Lucía. There was a current in the air of that house that she still hadn’t managed to read.

Caio sat down beside her. He spoke softly, brushed her arm when pointing something out, poured for her before she asked. When the music changed to something slower, he held out his hand.

—Vem.

They danced in the patio beneath a strand of lights. He guided her with an open palm on her waist, and little by little the distance between their bodies disappeared. Lucía felt his heat against her belly, his breath on her neck, and Caio’s hard cock pressing against her hip through the fabric of his pants. Something she thought had been dead for months woke between her legs with a rush that frightened her: her cunt suddenly grew wet, soaking her panties.

—No one’s touched me in a long time —she murmured, more to herself than to him.

—Then let me touch you —Caio replied, and the hand on her waist slid down to the hem of her shorts and kept going, slipping underneath to find the bare skin of her ass. He squeezed hard, with broad fingers, and Lucía let out a low moan against his shoulder.

***

They kissed in a corner of the patio, far from the light. His tongue tasted of lime and beer, and Lucía responded with a hunger that surprised even her. She bit his lip, sucked on it, pushed her tongue down his throat as if she wanted to eat him whole. Caio’s hands slipped under her T-shirt, found her tits without a bra, pinched her already stiff nipples while she dug her fingers into his back and rubbed her cunt against his thigh.

—Puta que rica sos —he told her in Portuguese against her neck, biting her skin—. Toda mojadinha ya.

Lucía fumbled for his zipper, pulled it down, slipped her hand in and grabbed his cock. It was thick, hot, throbbing, with a thick drop at the tip that wet her fingers. She jerked him slowly, feeling him swell even more in her hand, and a gasp escaped her when he answered by slipping two fingers beneath her panties, straight to her cunt, sinking them in to the knuckles.

—Let’s go inside —he said against her mouth, his fingers soaked to the wrist.

But before they could move, Lucía felt other hands. Bruno had come up behind her, and he pressed the bulge of his cock against her ass while biting the back of her neck. When she turned her head, she saw Verónica watching them from the doorway, leaning against the frame, one hand inside her dress touching a tit, with no expression of surprise. Her sister held her gaze and, slowly, nodded.

—Relax —Verónica said, coming closer—. Nobody judges you here. We only take care of you here.

Lucía understood all at once what that current was that she had been unable to name for days. The whole house breathed differently. And instead of running, she stayed, her hand still wrapped around Caio’s cock and his fingers still inside her cunt.

—You too? —she asked her sister, her voice hoarse.

—We’re family —Verónica answered, and fixed her hair the way she had in the kitchen—. We share everything, it’s always been that way. It’s just that you weren’t here.

***

They went into the living room amid everyone’s hands. Caio pulled her T-shirt over her head and attacked her tits with his mouth, sucking one nipple while twisting the other between his fingers; Bruno kissed her neck from behind and yanked open her shorts, letting them fall to her ankles. Tiago poured himself another glass and sat back to watch with the calm of a man at home, already working the bulge in his pants with his hand. But it was Verónica who knelt in front of her and pulled down her panties with her teeth, and Lucía felt the world tilt.

—This isn’t something you do —she managed to say, trembling.

—That’s why you like it so much —her sister replied, and spread her legs with both hands, leaving her cunt wide open in front of her face.

Verónica’s tongue was a warm, familiar surprise, as if she already knew every fold of her body simply for being made of the same blood. She licked her from bottom to top, long and slow, gathering the juice already running down her thighs, then pressed her tongue straight against her clit, sucking on it like candy. Lucía clutched her sister’s hair and moaned without shame, pressing her head against her cunt.

—Oh, fuck, Vero, don’t stop, don’t stop —she let out, her voice breaking.

Bruno planted himself in front of her and pulled out his cock, a dark, thick dick he pressed to her lips. Lucía opened her mouth without thinking and took it halfway down, choking a little, while Caio grabbed both her tits from behind and pinched her nipples hard. Verónica’s tongue kept working her cunt, sucking her clit, pushing inside her; Bruno shoved her head against his cock until she gagged; and Caio rubbed his hard cock against her ass, already wet with so much pre-cum. It was too much, and yet she didn’t want it to stop.

When they laid her down on the sofa, with her legs hanging open wide, Caio positioned himself between her thighs, took his cock in his hand, and dragged it through the whole slit of her cunt, smearing it with juice, before settling the tip at her opening. He pushed slowly, measuring it, until he sank in all the way, and Lucía arched her back and let out a long scream, the first of many, feeling how that thick cock opened her cunt to the very bottom.

—So tight, my goddess —Caio growled, and began fucking her with slow, deep thrusts that tore a moan from her with every descent.

Verónica, beside her, had knelt on the sofa and was sucking Tiago’s cock without taking her eyes off her sister, as if she wanted to make sure she was there, alive, lit up, finally far from sadness. Her cheek was bulging with her husband’s dick and her bright eyes were fixed on Lucía’s cunt being penetrated.

—Look at her —Verónica told her husband, pulling his cock from her mouth for a second, her voice rough and a thread of saliva hanging from her chin—. She’s coming back. Look how they’re eating her up.

And it was true. With every thrust, Lucía felt something unclench inside her, the knot of months loosening by force of pleasure. Caio grabbed her legs from behind the knees and folded them against her chest so he could drive his cock even deeper, and she felt his balls hitting her ass with every stroke. Bruno climbed onto the back of the sofa, came over the top of her face, and shoved his cock into her mouth from above; Lucía took him all in, letting her throat be fucked, while Caio kept fucking her hard below. The two men found a shared rhythm, pounding her at the same time from both ends, until she felt like a piece of flesh between their cocks.

Her sister gave herself up to Tiago on the rug, on all fours, and from there, fucked from behind by her husband, she kept watching Lucía and whispering between moans.

—Let go, baby, let yourself be fucked, it’s all yours, it’s for you, today you’re the queen.

Lucía pulled Bruno’s cock out of her mouth only to ask for more, her voice ragged.

—Harder, Caio, harder, break it for me.

And Caio obeyed, grabbing her by the hips and driving into her to the hilt with thrusts that made the sofa creak. Bruno put his cock back in her mouth, deeper, until Lucía felt his balls against her nose. She grabbed his balls and kneaded them while letting her throat be fucked, swallowing the saliva and pre-cum dripping down her chin.

The orgasm hit her like a wave rolling in from far away. She spasmed all over, her legs closing around Caio’s waist, her cunt clamping down on his cock until it milked him, her fingers reaching for Verónica’s hand, which squeezed hers hard from the floor. She screamed so loudly it hurt her throat, and kept screaming while Caio drove in twice more and came inside her with a roar, filling her with hot semen that she felt splashing against the walls of her cunt.

Bruno pulled his cock from her mouth and jerked off quickly, aiming at her face, and shot his load over her lips, her cheek, her tits. Lucía stuck out her tongue and gathered what fell near her mouth, while Tiago, behind her, kept fucking Verónica with thrusts that made her ass tremble. Her sister came while looking at her, her face buried in the rug and letting out a long moan, squeezing Lucía’s hand until her nails dug in.

Afterward Lucía lay there, panting, her body shiny with sweat and semen, with Caio still inside her, softening slowly. The others laughed softly and stroked her skin, wiped the cum from her face with their fingers, offered it to her to lick.

—Are you okay? —her sister asked, crawling over from the floor and lying back against her, her mouth still shining with Tiago’s cum.

—I’m alive —Lucía answered, and a laugh escaped her that ended in tears, and tears that ended in laughter.

Verónica licked the cum from one of her tits, slowly, and gave it to her to taste in a long kiss. Lucía swallowed it without hesitation.

***

That first night was only the beginning. The next morning, Verónica woke her with coffee and sat on the edge of the bed like when they were little and told each other secrets under the sheets.

—It wasn’t just sex, you know? —she said—. It was to pull out of you what was killing you. But if you want it not to happen again, it won’t happen again. You decide.

Lucía thought of the empty house in Rosario, the tiles, the silence. And she thought of how, for the first time in months, she had slept straight through the night, her cunt still throbbing and the taste of semen on her tongue.

—I want it to happen —she said quietly—. I want to keep feeling like this.

The days took on a new shape. Mornings meant mate shared on the patio. Afternoons meant sticky heat and bodies seeking each other in the dimness. Bruno and Caio showed up often; sometimes only one, sometimes both. And always Verónica, who had stopped being only her sister and become her accomplice, her teacher, her mirror.

—You’re just like me —Verónica told her while they undressed in front of the fan, and grabbed one of her tits to compare it with her own—. You took your time, but you got here.

They learned to read each other without words. Lucía knew when her sister was about to come by the way her fists clenched; Verónica knew what Lucía was asking for just by looking at her back. They shared the men and shared each other: they licked each other’s cunts lying on the big bed, with Tiago watching from the sofa while he jerked off, and afterward he fucked them both, first one, then the other, mixing their juices on the same cock. None of it seemed as forbidden to her anymore as it had on the first night, but only the way life had found to give her body back.

One afternoon Lucía let Tiago fuck her on the kitchen table, her legs spread in the air and Verónica sitting beside her drinking mate, guiding her husband’s cock with her hand until she slid it into her sister’s cunt.

—Like that, baby, fuck her properly, look how it opens up —Verónica told Tiago, never once stopping sipping her mate, as calm as if they were chatting about the weather.

Lucía came moaning her sister’s name, and Tiago came inside her, and Verónica bent down afterward to lick the semen that dripped from her cunt until she was clean.

***

One night, Verónica took her to a discreet club in downtown Recife, red-lit and low-music, where couples and strangers mixed without questions. They went in hand in hand, with Tiago, Bruno, and Caio behind them like a silent guard.

—Here you’ll understand how far this goes —her sister whispered in her ear.

In a separate room, with mattresses on the floor and mirrors on the ceiling, Lucía gave herself over to hands she didn’t know. They stripped her among several people, laid her on her back, and an unfamiliar mouth sucked her cunt while two cocks took turns in her mouth. Someone climbed on top of her and fucked her hard while another squeezed her tits and jerked off over her face until he came on her tongue. She took cocks of every size, in her cunt, in her mouth, between her tits; she let herself be turned over and fucked on all fours by a man who hadn’t seen her face, and felt the delicious burn of a cock forcing its way into her ass for the first time, slowly, until it settled all the way inside her.

Verónica watched her from a nearby sofa without missing a detail, her legs open and a stranger kneeling between them eating her cunt, just like that first night at the living room door. Every so often their gazes crossed amid the tangle of bodies, and that complicity held her up like a thread. When the guy fucking her ass came inside her with a guttural moan, Lucía felt the hot semen sliding between her cheeks and laughed, drunk on pleasure.

Afterward they kissed each other, sprawled on the same mattress, while the others surrounded them and came on them, on their tits, on their faces, on their open mouths. Verónica and Lucía passed semen from tongue to tongue, mixed with their own saliva, and Lucía thought she had never felt so accompanied.

On the way home, in the silence of the car, Verónica found her hand on the seat.

—Are you still sad? —she asked.

Lucía looked through the window at the city lights reflected in the black sea. In a way, her parents had pushed her there: their deaths had torn her out of Rosario and left her in this other world of heat and desire. It wasn’t the kind of grief she had been taught to carry. But she was alive, and the emptiness in her chest had been filled with something else.

—No —she said, and was surprised it was true—. Not for a long time.

***

The months passed. Lucía got a job at a beach bar, made friends, learned to move in Portuguese with her body before her tongue. The hill house became her real home, with its dawn mate rituals and its nights no one from outside would have understood.

Sometimes, when she was alone in the patio looking at the sea, she thought of the shattered girl who had gotten off the plane months earlier, clutching an old T-shirt. It was hard to recognize herself in her. She hadn’t healed by forgetting, as she had first believed one did. She had healed by letting herself be touched, letting herself be fucked, letting herself be filled with semen and moans and hands, letting herself be loved in a twisted, secret way, letting herself be led by her sister to a place she had no intention of leaving.

—What are you thinking about? —Verónica asked her one night, hugging her from behind in front of the railing, one hand slipping under her dress to grab a tit.

—That I arrived dead —Lucía answered— and you brought me back.

Verónica kissed her shoulder, slowly pinched her nipple, and said nothing. No need. They both knew that chapter had only just begun, and that on that hill facing the sea they had finally found a way not to be alone.