The Harem I Never Asked for in My Own House

The harem fantasy sounds perfect when you imagine it from the outside: one man, several women, sex every day. What nobody tells you is how wearing it gets. I know, because I live inside one, and most days the only thing I want is an endless Sunday.

My name is Diego, I’m nineteen, and since I turned eighteen the women in my family have decided for me what my weeks would be like. I’m short, skinny, fine-boned. Not the kind of guy anyone pictures as the lead in a story like this. And yet, here I am.

The system was invented by my mother. Carmen, forty-two, blonde, tall, with a body no gym in the neighborhood could replicate. She used to be married to my father. When he left, she stayed with me and, a couple of years later, she married Beatriz, a woman from northern Mexico, dark-skinned, with jet-black hair and wide hips. Beatriz brought her daughter, Lola, a twenty-five-year-old with short hair dyed violet, tattooed from shoulders to wrists, with piercings in her eyebrows and lips.

When I turned eighteen, Carmen noticed something I hadn’t: the three of them wanted me. Instead of letting a civil war break out inside the house, one afternoon the three sat down in the kitchen, opened a bottle of wine, and drew up a schedule.

Monday and Thursday, my mother. Tuesday and Friday, my stepmother. Wednesday and Saturday, my stepsister. Sunday, rest.

I didn’t sign anything. Nobody asked me.

***

That Thursday began like almost all the others. Lola was asleep beside me, naked, taking up three quarters of the bed. I tried to get up with the care of a thief who knows the whole house is full of shotguns.

—Good morning, loser —she said without opening her eyes.

—Could you call me Diego, at least until breakfast? —I asked, feeling around for my pants on the floor.

—No. I call you loser because you are one. You’re lucky you have what you’ve got between your legs, because otherwise you’re pretty much nothing.

I gave her the tired smile I’d been perfecting for a year.

—Today’s Thursday. It’s Mom’s. Get back to your room before she wakes up.

Lola stretched like a cat and stood up. The slanted light of dawn outlined her ribs and tattoos.

—Carmen’s out for work. She doesn’t get back until tonight. Get in the shower with me and nobody finds out.

—No. That “nobody finds out” thing never ends well.

—That wasn’t a question —she said, grabbing my wrist with a strength that didn’t show at first glance—. It was an order. I need a morning fuck, and you’re here.

She took me to the bathroom, locked the door, and turned on the hot water like someone opening a watch’s tap. There was no point resisting.

***

The steam gathered against the tiles in a matter of seconds. Lola put the soap in my hand, turned around, and spread her arms.

—Start with the shoulders and work your way down slowly. If you rush, I’ll hit you.

I ran the soap over her back. She had a small dragon tattooed between her shoulder blades, its tail coiled around her spine. I went down to her waist, to her hips, feeling the slight tremor that escaped her whenever I brushed the right spot. I soaped her ass slowly, squeezing it with both hands, sliding my fingers between her cheeks until a low groan slipped out of her.

—For an idiot, you’ve got good hands —she murmured—. That’s the only thing I’m admitting today.

She spun me around with a shove, pressed me against the cold tiles, and returned the favor with her hand full of foam. She grabbed my cock like it was something she’d spent hours planning, wrapped her fist around it, and stroked me up and down slowly, staring straight into my eyes with that crooked smile of someone who knows she’s already won.

—Look at you. Hard in two seconds. Don’t even need to talk dirty, do I, loser?

I didn’t answer. My voice wouldn’t come. She crouched down, violet hair soaked and stuck to her scalp, and took my cock into her mouth without ceremony, all the way down, until I felt the piercing in her lower lip brush the base. Her tongue worked along the underside, her hand squeezed my balls, her throat tightened around the head every time she swallowed. My knees buckled and I had to brace both hands on the tiles so I wouldn’t go down.

—Don’t even think about coming yet —she said, pulling my cock out of her mouth with a wet pop—. You haven’t touched me yet.

She stood up, smashed another kiss on me that tasted like myself, and forced me to kneel. She dug a hand into my neck and shoved my face between her legs. Lola didn’t ask nicely: she pressed. I licked her cunt with my whole tongue, up and down, until I found the swollen clit and stayed there, sucking on it while she writhed against my mouth, hurling insults that sounded like compliments.

—Like that, like that, don’t move, asshole, stay right there… harder, suck it harder…

I slipped two fingers into her and felt her walls clench around them. I bit the inside of her thigh slowly and went back to her clit, tongue flat, holding the rhythm even as I ran out of air.

—Again. Again. Again.

We’d been at it late the night before. I didn’t understand how she still had that kind of energy. When her leg started trembling, she yanked me away, shoved me down onto the tub floor, and sat on top of me with both hands planted on my chest.

—Now you’re going to stay still and give me what I need.

She sank down on my cock in one go, with a long moan that bounced off the tiles, and started moving up and down with the same fury she used when she spoke to me. Her small tits bounced with every drop, the eyebrow piercing flashed under the shower, water ran down her neck and fell into her open mouth. I tried to last, to hold on, not to close my eyes. I dug my hands into her hips and helped her rise, lower, slam down against me until she started clenching her jaw.

—I’m going to come, asshole, hold on, hold on…

She came first, with a short cry that bounced off the tiles, clamping down on me with both knees until I was breathless. She stayed still for a few seconds, trembling, then stood up, crouched down, and took my cock straight into her mouth. She finished collecting the rest from me with her tongue, swallowing everything I spilled down her throat without blinking, not leaving a single drop. She lifted her face and pried her mouth open with two fingers to show me it was empty.

—It was good —she said when she stood up—. But you’re still a loser. Dry me off, I’ve got breakfast with the girls and I’m late.

***

In the afternoon I tried to disappear into the sofa. Low-volume TV, an Italian cooking show, the curtains half closed. I was sure that if I didn’t move for an hour, the universe would give me a break.

The universe gave me nothing.

—How’s my favorite stepson? —Beatriz sat next to me with the lightness of someone who wasn’t forty years old. She wore a short cream-colored dress and smelled like new perfume.

—Hi, Bea. I’m just watching TV.

—Italian cooking. Those dishes look delicious. You know what I’m craving right now?

—Pasta?

—You.

She kissed me before I could get up. Beatriz kissed like someone making a decision and the decision was already made, tongue in from the first second, her hand sliding up my thigh straight to my crotch. I pulled away as best I could.

—Bea, today isn’t your day. It’s my mother’s day.

—Your mother’s out. And your mother isn’t going to find out.

—That’s what Lola said this morning.

She pulled back for a second, her eyes shining with something that wasn’t exactly surprise.

—You fucked Lola this morning?

—She fucked me. Not the same thing.

—Then I can too. If she broke the rule, I’m not the one breaking it again. Stay still.

She pulled my pants down with an efficiency that made me think she would have been a great nurse. She knelt in front of the sofa, spread my legs with both hands, and stared at my cock like it was a dish she’d been waiting years for. She spit on it, unhurried, and started rolling my foreskin down with her thumb while she talked to me.

—Look at what my boy has. Did that little brat suck it well? Let’s see if mommy sucks it better.

She took it all in at once, until her nose touched my stomach, and stayed there, swallowing around it. Beatriz sucked with her whole mouth and her hand at the same time, twisting her wrist at the base, going up slowly and down hard, spitting into her palm to keep everything wet. When she noticed I was about to grab her head, she shoved my hands away and pinned them against the sofa.

—No. Today mommy’s in charge. You stay there and hold on.

She alternated mouth and hand, running her tongue over my balls, sucking them one by one, going back to the tip to lick it in circles before taking me into her mouth again. Saliva dripped down her chin, her mascara ran, and she looked straight at me while she held me in her throat, waiting for me to break. I broke before I even realized it.

—Bea, I’m going to…

—Not yet —she said, squeezing the base with two fingers like closing a valve. I stayed right at the edge, breathing through my nose, sweating into the sofa, while she laughed softly and blew over my wet cock—. Not yet. Mommy eats first.

Instead of getting up and going to her room, she hiked up her skirt, took off her underwear, and sat on my face without giving me time to breathe.

—Now it’s your turn —she said—. My cooking is worth it, not like those Italians on TV.

She was right, though I was never going to admit it to her. Beatriz smelled like expensive perfume and something else, heavier, more hers. I drove my tongue up into her from below, long and slow, and heard her let out a sharp breath. I grabbed her ass with both hands and held her against my mouth while I licked her cunt from one end to the other, pausing on the clit just long enough to drive her crazy and then moving back down before she could get used to it.

—Oh, Diego, oh, don’t stop, don’t stop, just like that, my love…

I slid my tongue inside her, pulled it out, went back to suck her clit with my lips closed, and slipped a finger into her while I kept eating her. Beatriz moved over my face like she was riding something, rubbing herself shamelessly, holding my hair with both hands. I added another finger, curling them inward, and felt her start to tighten. She arched back, gripping the sofa back, and let out a long laugh that broke into a ragged moan when her orgasm hit. She drenched my whole face. She didn’t let me stop until a second one hit her, shorter, sharper, and she pulled my mouth away by the hair.

And then I heard footsteps in the entrance hall.

***

—I see you had fun —Carmen said from the doorway to the living room, suitcase still in hand.

Beatriz straightened so fast she hit the back of her head on the ceiling lamp. I stayed still underneath, my eyes fixed on the plaster.

—Hi, sweetheart —Beatriz said, adjusting her dress with fake dignity—. I thought you were coming back at night.

—The meeting ended early. And I can see how that information was used in my absence. How many times do we have to talk about the schedule, Bea?

—It’s just that…

—It’s nothing. Today was my day. Next time, you lose yours.

Beatriz lowered her head and went down the hall without arguing. It was the first time I’d ever seen her obey an order that fast. I tried to slip away after her.

—Where do you think you’re going, young man?

Carmen lifted me by the waist and carried me over her shoulder like I was twelve years old. I was five foot seven. She was almost six feet tall and trained more than any man in the building.

—Mommy had a very long day. And mommy needs her favorite toy before dinner.

***

She laid me on the bed and got undressed in the time it takes to blink three times. Carmen had supernatural efficiency for everything: cooking, arguing, this. Naked she was even more intimidating than dressed: big, firm breasts, a defined waist, hard gym-built thighs, her blonde pubic hair trimmed with the same precision as the hair on her head.

—Diego, come here.

I crawled across the bed, still exhausted from the sofa session, and obeyed.

—I endured three hours in an airplane seat and two in a car. My whole body is stiff. You’re going to have to be very affectionate.

—Mom, I just…

—I don’t care what you just did. I care what you’re going to do now.

She grabbed me by the nape and pressed my face against her tits. She put a nipple in my mouth and held me there, breathing deeply, while she guided my free hand between her legs.

—Suck me. With your tongue. And don’t stop touching me down there.

I sucked her nipple until it hardened and moved to the other one, while I stroked her cunt with two fingers, up and down the lips, barely brushing the clit. Carmen let out a low purr, almost like a cat, every time I found the rhythm right. When she decided I’d delayed long enough, she shoved me onto my back, swung a leg over me, and settled on my face with the same ease she sat down on the sofa.

—Work, sweetheart. Mommy wants to finish fast so she can finish again.

I ate her cunt until my tongue cramped. Carmen didn’t let me get away: she held my head with both hands, moved her hips at the pace she wanted, and told me exactly what to do, shamelessly, in her usual low, firm voice.

—Higher. There. Suck, don’t lick. The fingers, put in the fingers, two, like that. Curve. There, there, there…

She finished by crushing my face between her thighs until I could hardly breathe, soaking me with a hot release that ran down my neck. She let go for a second, lowered herself down my body, and without saying a word sat on my cock, sliding all the way down with a long sigh.

—Now the other one. Stay still.

The truth was she didn’t need me to do much. Carmen set the pace, decided the positions, said when and how. I only had to stay awake. She rode me first sitting up, moving her hips in slow circles, clenching my cock inside her with muscles that seemed to know exactly where every nerve was. Then she lay face down and forced me to take her from behind, face buried in the pillow, moaning into the bed, ordering me harder, deeper, faster, not letting me stop. I grabbed her blonde hair, wound it around my fist, and gave it to her the way she asked for it, teeth clenched, until I felt her back seize up a second time.

—Inside, Diego, inside, don’t pull out, inside…

I came deep inside her, trembling over her, vision whitening out. That night, staying awake was almost a miracle.

When we finished, Carmen lay down beside me and ran a hand through my hair with a tenderness I hadn’t heard from anyone else in years.

—You’re a good boy. You can go rest for a little if you want. But I want you back after dinner.

—Back?

—I’ve got the whole night free. And I don’t intend to waste it.

Shit.

***

The next morning I woke with my face resting on Carmen’s shoulder. I barely had time to open my eyes when the bedroom door flew open and Beatriz came in with a coffee in her hand, her makeup already done, ready to start the day with the full repertoire.

—Good morning, my love —she said to me, ignoring Carmen, and climbed onto the bed directly over me.

Carmen opened one eye, slowly.

—What do you think you’re doing, bitch?

—It’s Friday. It’s my day.

—I didn’t get to enjoy mine the way I wanted. You owe me one.

—That rule doesn’t exist.

—I’m creating it now.

The two of them got out of bed arguing, one on each side, arms crossed over their naked breasts. I took the opportunity to slide into the hallway without making a sound.

I didn’t get far.

—Where do you think you’re going, loser? —Lola was leaning against the corridor wall with a coffee in one hand and a smile that promised no rest—. They’re both busy. Let’s make the most of it.

—Lola, today’s Friday.

—Exactly. If I get in ahead of them, tomorrow you rest.

—That rule doesn’t exist either.

—They make the rules. I use them to my advantage.

Before I could answer, Carmen and Beatriz appeared behind me, still arguing, and both realized at once that Lola had joined the equation.

—You don’t get to be part of this! —Carmen shouted.

—I’m younger —Lola shot back—. And my ass is firmer.

—Mine’s bigger —Beatriz said.

—Mine belongs to Mom —Carmen cut in.

The three of them were holding onto me at once: Carmen by the collar of my pajamas, Beatriz by my right arm, Lola by my left. I was a rope in a tug-of-war.

—If you’d let me have a say… —I began.

—Nobody cares what you think! —the three of them answered at the same time, without even looking at each other, in a choreography they’d been rehearsing for a year without knowing it.

Who ever said the man was in control in a harem?, I thought as they dragged me back to the main bedroom between tugs and shoves that were turning into something else.

It’s Friday at eight in the morning. Two days until Sunday.

And two days, in this house, is an eternity.