The Camera My Father-in-Law Forgot to Turn Off That Afternoon

I had spent three weeks spying on that house without anyone in the family suspecting a thing. It had all started by accident, one night when the security server of Don Rafael’s company, my father-in-law’s, left an open passwordless session in my browser. Hidden cameras behind the paintings in the office. Others camouflaged in the light fixtures of my brother-in-law Tomás’s chalet kitchen. Don Rafael had installed them to keep watch over his daughters, his sons-in-law, and whoever else was necessary. I just watched.

That Thursday the screen flickered on its own. The living room of the office. Worn leather armchairs, the green banker’s lamp lit, a bottle of cognac open on the table. Don Rafael was standing up, his vest unbuttoned. In front of him, very straight, perched on the edge of the armchair, was Camila. The blonde. The most dutiful daughter, the finance director, the one who never raised her voice in a meeting.

But that afternoon my father-in-law did not seem pleased with her.

—I’m sick of it, daughter —he began, without greeting, without preamble—. Sick of you being the company’s cuckold.

Camila slowly lifted her head.

—Dad…

—That idiot Andrés is fucking every woman who crosses his path in the hall. The interns, the clients, the catering girl. And you, all composed, swallowing your rage in silence.

—And what do you want me to do? —she replied, almost in a whisper—. Divorce him?

—Absolutely not. Your marriage is very good for the family. His surname carries weight, his contacts even more. Divorced, you’re no use to me.

—Then I don’t know what you expect, Dad.

Don Rafael walked around the armchair with cold calm. He stopped just behind her. He looked down at her with that expression she had learned to fear since childhood.

—If he’s cheating on you, cheat on him back. With as many as you can.

Camila swallowed.

—Dad, that’s insane.

—More than that —he cut in—, you’re going to start right now. With me.

Before she could react, Don Rafael’s hands were already on her shoulders. One slid down to open her blouse, two buttons giving way as if he had known them all his life. The other found her thigh beneath the straight office skirt. Camila tensed.

—Dad, I’m your daughter.

—Neither daughter nor anything else —he said, his voice against her neck—. Either you please me, like a good whore with a good client, or tomorrow you and Andrés are both out of the company. Your choice.

I saw something break inside Camila. It wasn’t fear exactly. It was a slow surrender, almost conscious, as if some part of her had been waiting a long time for that excuse. She brought a hand to her father’s fly, her fingers trembling less than they should have. She unzipped him. Pulled out his cock.

—I see you’re beginning to understand —he murmured.

Don Rafael sat on the sofa, took off his trousers and his underwear. Camila knelt between his knees. I can’t believe she’s doing this. But her mouth was already closing around her father’s member. She sucked him slowly, without looking at him, focused as on any quarterly report.

—My girl —he groaned—, the bastard of your husband fucking every whore in sight and he’s got an exceptional cock sucker at home.

She didn’t answer. She sped up. Don Rafael closed his eyes for a moment, then gently tugged her hair to pull her away.

—Enough. I want to fuck you.

Camila stood. She unbuttoned the rest of her blouse with quick fingers. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She took off her stockings, the black thong, everything with the efficiency of someone who has decided that, if she’s going to do it, she’ll do it right. She climbed onto her father’s lap, grabbed his cock, and took it all the way in with a single movement.

The moan that escaped her was not for show. It was long, filthy, real.

—My girl —Don Rafael said, gripping her hips—, I love helping you discover your sluttier side. This is going to make the family a lot of money.

—Daddy —she panted, already riding him at a pace that surprised even her—, I never thought I’d feel this with someone in the family.

—Then get used to it. When I’m done with you, you’ll go on with your brothers.

She didn’t protest. She turned around without taking his cock out, leaned forward with her hands on his knees, and moved again, this time backward. Don Rafael caressed her thighs, brushed her clit with two fingers, and both of them panted with an intensity that did not fit the calm of that office.

—What I’ve been missing —he muttered, almost to himself— for not understanding how much of a whore daughters can be and how good it feels to enjoy you.

He made her stand. He bent her over the desk, against the papers, and fucked her from behind with a hard thrust. Camila clung to the edge of the table.

—Daddy, this is divine. Much better than with Andrés.

—Then you know what to do —he answered, pounding her hard—, turn him into the biggest cuckold in the city.

When she was about to come, Don Rafael laid her down on the Persian rug and positioned himself on top. He spread her legs, sank in again. Camila screamed. A long scream, one that sounded like release.

—Daddy, I’m coming.

And she came, her body arched, her nails digging into her father’s shoulders. He held on a few seconds longer, until he emptied himself inside her, without pulling out, without warning.

They stayed silent for a few minutes, catching their breath. Then Don Rafael went back to the sofa, still naked, still hard. He beckoned to her with two fingers.

—I’m not done with you yet, my girl.

Camila came over without arguing. She knelt between his legs and took him in her mouth again. This time with less shame. This time even with a small smile.

—Honey —he said between groans—, you should do this to the board boys. To motivate them.

She kept sucking him without answering. When he got hard again, he laid her on the sofa, spread her legs and fucked her again, slowly, looking her in the eyes. Camila no longer looked away. She came before he did. Then he came, emptying himself inside her once more.

The screen went black.

***

Almost four days passed before the system connected again. This time the camera was somewhere else: the kitchen of Tomás’s chalet, my brother-in-law’s. Black marble countertop, hexagonal tiles, a bunch of dried thyme hanging from the ceiling. Daniela, Tomás’s wife, was there. And with her, Camila.

The two sisters-in-law had planned an afternoon of cooking together. They had barely spoken for months, ever since that absurd argument at the Christmas dinner, and this was a symbolic attempt at reconciliation. They were going to make cannelloni. Daniela was chopping onion, Camila peeling carrots.

—Sis-in-law —Camila said suddenly, putting down the knife—, what a ass you have.

Daniela laughed, without turning fully around.

—Excuse me?

—I said, what an ass you have. Now I get why Tomás is so crazy about you.

Before Daniela could answer, Camila was already behind her. She lifted her skirt. Pulled her thong aside with two fingers. And, without asking permission, sank one of those same fingers all the way in.

—Camila…

—We said we were going to fix things, right? —Camila murmured against her nape—. Well, I can think of a better way than cannelloni.

Daniela didn’t answer. She didn’t pull her hips away, didn’t move the hand aside, didn’t say no. Camila took it as an invitation, as it probably was. She pulled her panties down to her ankles, lifted one leg onto the high stool by the counter, and knelt between her legs.

Daniela’s pussy was left completely open. Camila started fingering her with two fingers, slow, deliberate, alternating tongue and hands.

—Tell me, sis-in-law —Camila panted, lifting her head for a moment—, does my brother only fuck you with his cock, or does he finger you too?

Daniela didn’t even try to answer. Her eyes were closed, her head resting against the cabinet, one hand gripping the marble edge. She was a step away from coming when, suddenly, Camila stood up.

—Wait there. I’ll be back in a minute.

She left the kitchen and returned immediately. She was carrying something in her hand. A flesh-colored silicone dildo with a black leather harness. She dropped it onto the counter with a thud.

—Turn around —she ordered—. Today I’m going to fuck you the way my brother fucks you.

Daniela obeyed without a word. She placed both hands on the counter, spread her legs. Camila strapped the harness over her jeans, came up behind her, aligned the tip of the dildo with her sister-in-law’s open cunt and shoved it in with one hard thrust.

Daniela let out a deep moan that bounced off the tiles. Camila grabbed her by the hips and started pounding her with a firm, almost martial rhythm.

—Tell me, little sis-in-law —she panted—, do you like this one more, or my little brother’s?

Daniela didn’t answer. She only moaned. But the moan changed tone, became sharper, dirtier, and Camila’s face lit up. She knew perfectly well what that meant.

—I never imagined this could be so addictive —Camila murmured, watching the toy move—. Now I understand men. Sticking something inside a woman and hearing her moan like that is insane.

Daniela came against the counter, with a cry that stuck in her throat. When she caught her breath, she turned around and wrapped Camila in a hug by the neck. She gave her a long kiss, unhurried.

—Thank you, sis-in-law —she whispered—. It had been a long time since I had so much fun.

—I’m not done with you yet —Camila replied, smiling.

—Let me take over now.

Daniela knelt, pulled Camila’s jeans and harness down, and returned everything she had received with her tongue. Camila, leaning against the counter, arms crossed over her chest, moaned with her head thrown back.

—Daniela, you eat pussy better than anyone. Andrés has never done it to me in his life.

—Really?

—That one thinks oral sex is only for him.

When Camila came, holding Daniela by the hair, the two of them remained for a moment leaning against each other, laughing like teenagers who had gotten away with a prank.

—Let’s go upstairs —Daniela suggested—. I want to show you something.

***

The master bedroom. Pale linen sheets, a bedside table with a hardback book, a photo of Daniela and Tomás on the beach last summer. The two of them got onto the bed, kissed again, stripped completely naked. Daniela pulled a box from under the bed frame. Inside, several toys. She chose a large silver vibrator, with multiple speeds.

—Lie down —she said—. You’re going to like this.

Camila lay on her back, spread her legs. Daniela pressed the vibrator against her clit and turned it on at the lowest setting. Camila arched instantly.

—Sis-in-law, this is much better than any cock.

—I told you so.

Daniela slowly increased the intensity. She shoved the vibrator all the way in, pulled it out, shoved it back in, played with the rhythm. Camila couldn’t stay still. The sheets wrinkled under her fists.

—I adore you, sis-in-law. Keep going, don’t stop.

When Camila came, it was long. Three waves, one after the other, while Daniela kept the device pressed to her clit. Then she kissed her again, with a tenderness that was new between them.

—We need to make up more often —Daniela murmured.

—I think we already have —Camila replied.

The screen flickered. It went black. The system disconnected on its own.

I slowly closed the laptop lid, my hands slightly trembling. I poured myself a cognac. I thought about what I had just seen, about the two women I had known for years, about the man I called father-in-law. I thought about my own wife, asleep upstairs, oblivious to everything.

And I knew, with a clarity that chilled me, that as soon as the next camera connected, I would be in front of the screen again.