The Day My Sister Discovered Dad

As I was telling you, despite the madness of that first night, we never actually got around to talking about it. The dynamic in the house had changed completely, but none of us dared name what was happening. I had few doubts left that Dad was fully awake during his “episodes,” though maybe we were all keeping up that mask so as not to break the game and the complicity we’d been building. Any ordinary gesture would suddenly become something charged with tension.

I could tell you a thousand situations. One morning, Marina was in the shower and I went into the bathroom to pee. While I was doing it, I noticed a shadow to my right. It was none other than Dad, cock out, ready to share the toilet with me. After a few seconds of hesitation, we both started pissing at the same time and let it rip. And what should have been a couple of shakes to get the last drops out turned, without a word, into something else.

I couldn’t believe how far we’d gone. My wife less than a meter away, the water falling over her, steam fogging up the mirror, and Dad getting closer and closer until our two cocks touched. His glans against mine, both of us hot, joined by a thin thread of liquid. We started some kind of absurd duel, almost missing the sound of lightsabers, one against the other, sizing each other up in silence so she wouldn’t hear us over the water.

But of course she heard us. Or sensed it. Marina turned off the tap just as both of us were breathing hard, and stood motionless for a moment behind the shower screen, an unmoving silhouette deciding whether to come out.

When Marina got out of the shower, the two of us were side by side, slowly jerking each other off. She watched us while she dried herself. She put down the towel and stood there, touching herself, watching us kiss. Dad let a string of saliva drop onto my hand, smeared his own with it, and brought our two cocks together to rub them at the same time. We were breathing in the same rhythm. Marina came over on her knees, and just a couple of licks on our glans were enough for us both to finish over her mouth, her face, and her breasts. Dad wrapped me in a tight hug and kissed me on the neck.

***

—I can’t believe you, brother. You’ve completely lost your mind, or this is a very sick joke —she told me without missing a single detail of what I was telling her.

—I’m not lying to you. I know it’s madness, but that’s how it’s been in this house lately.

—You’re pulling my leg. I don’t know what your angle is, but you’re taking the piss —she shot back, already bordering on anger.

And yet she couldn’t hide it: a barely visible damp patch in her shorts, her nipples standing out beneath her T-shirt. I’d known her forever, and I’d never seen her react like that to anything I’d said.

—Follow me if you don’t believe me —I said.

***

I’m telling you this because there was more. Another afternoon I got home from work and found Marina and Dad in a sixty-nine on the sofa. Him on top, her below, trying to take that cock that was too big for her mouth. I didn’t think twice. I stripped right there and went over to my wife’s pussy.

Dad took it very well. He grabbed my cock with his hand and guided it himself to Marina’s entrance, after spitting on it to lube it up. When I started fucking her, he’d already gone back to his place and was licking her clit and my shaft at the same time.

I can’t tell you how long we stayed like that. It felt like the whole afternoon passed without us changing position, the whole room smelling of sex, the light from the window slowly fading. Marina came first, biting her hand so she wouldn’t scream, and when I felt the contractions squeezing me I pulled out in time and let everything fall into Dad’s open mouth, waiting right below. After that she and I took turns sucking his cock, which was already close, until he burst like a fountain. The three of us stayed lying there, wordless, catching our breath, our legs tangled up so we couldn’t even tell whose was whose.

Lust ruled us, sister. I’m not telling you this to shock you; I’m telling you because I don’t even know how to recognize the limits anymore. Another day, while I was cooking, I couldn’t resist. I knew Dad was sitting at the table, watching. I hiked Marina’s skirt up, pulled down her panties, and started fucking her standing up against the counter, without him ever looking away or stopping touching himself.

Then Dad stood up. He got behind me, bent down, and started licking my perineum and balls from behind while I was still inside Marina. I was surprised when he suddenly straightened and I felt his glans pressing in, trying to force its way inside. I reached back, grabbed his cock, and stopped him dead in his tracks.

I looked him in the eye. They were lost, almost absent, and then all of a sudden something changed in them, as if he came back. It was a mystery when he was there and when he wasn’t. I think at first he just saw a hole to stick it in, and then he recognized me and put up a small barrier. If you can call it that, because by then boundaries were something we almost no longer knew.

He held us both from behind. I pulled his cock out from between my ass cheeks and jerked him off until he came all over my lower back. Then he knelt down again to keep going with his balls and Marina’s clit, at least as far as the position allowed him. We didn’t last much longer. I came inside her like I had only a few times in my life. And when I pulled my cock out, Dad didn’t miss the chance to bring his mouth over and clean up what was leaking out.

***

My sister looked at me with a mixture of horror and something else she didn’t want to admit. Her back was rigid, her hands folded over her lap, but her thighs were pressed together and her breathing was shorter than usual. She struggled to hold my gaze, and every time she did, she quickly looked away toward the window, as if she might find an escape in the glass from what she was feeling.

—You’re fucking with me —she insisted, now almost without conviction.

I had to grab her by the wrist. There was a brief resistance, a weak tug, more out of pride than any real desire to get away. I led her down the hallway to the closed door of my bedroom. I put my ear to it for a second. Then I opened it carefully, quietly, just enough to show the inside.

Inside, Dad was fucking Marina hard, and she was on all fours on the bed. The lamp’s light traced every movement. Just then he pulled out, smeared his cock with saliva and her fluids, and slowly guided it toward her ass. It went in little by little until it was all inside, and then that wild sound started up, of his balls slapping against my wife’s body.

I looked at my sister. Her eyes were wide open and one hand covered her mouth. The scene was too much for her, too much to process all at once, and still she didn’t miss a detail. Not a single one.

I went to close the door. I thought enough had been enough, that this would be enough for her to believe me. But she stopped me. She grabbed my hand on the handle and wouldn’t let go. She didn’t want me to close it.

—Wait —she whispered, so softly I almost didn’t hear her.

I could feel how her body tensed beside me, how she twisted ever so slightly, looking for an impossible position. I stood there staring at her. A beauty I’d always had in front of me and had never really allowed myself to see. She was clearly aroused, and when our eyes met, we both looked away at once, embarrassed, only to fix our gaze on the bed again.

But bodies don’t obey shame. Mine and hers started moving closer without either of us deciding it. We ended up in some awkward, contorted embrace, rubbing our parts together as best we could against the doorframe. Her hip against mine. My thigh between hers.

When we couldn’t take any more, she put her hand over my crotch through my pants. I brought mine up to her breasts. We looked at each other. I was about to say something, I don’t know what, an excuse, a brake, anything. But she raised a finger and pressed it against my lips to silence me.

Don’t say anything. That’s what her eyes were saying.

On the other side of the door, Dad and Marina kept at it, oblivious. And I understood, with my sister’s hand slowly closing around me, that in this house there wasn’t a single line left uncrossed.

TO BE CONTINUED