The Morning My Sister Pulled Back the Sheet

My name is Mateo, and I had just turned nineteen the month before. I lived with my mother, Carolina, a woman who still turned heads on the street at forty-five, and with my sister Camila, who was about to turn eighteen. My father had left home six years earlier, after an ugly divorce in which secrets, a family friend, and too many shouted words got mixed together.

What was left of that story was a quieter house and a strange intimacy among the three of us. We walked around the kitchen in our underwear, slept with the door ajar, and sat on the sofa pressed up against one another without thinking about it. There was no malice. Just trust built up over years, that family habit of not hiding anything from each other.

The problem started with me. Camila looked more and more like our mother. The same narrow waist, the same dark eyes, a smile she was learning how to use. I acted distracted when she crossed the hallway in her panties, but at night, locked in my room, I jerked off thinking about her until I came two and three times over my stomach. She was my sister. She was exactly what I was not supposed to look at.

Mornings were the worst. I had a hard time getting started for the day, and Camila had made waking me up into a game. She’d come in hopping around, pull the sheet off me, tickle my ribs. I slept in briefs, she in a T-shirt and panties. Nothing seemed to be happening. Until that Thursday morning.

—Come on, sleepyhead, Mom’s already downstairs —she said, grabbing the sheet with both hands.

She yanked hard. The sheet flew through the air and landed in a heap at her feet. I was lying on my back, with an impossible-to-hide erection poking over the edge of my briefs. The head of my cock had slipped out, thick and red, resting against my thigh with a bead of pre-cum shining at the opening. I didn’t have time to cover myself.

Camila froze. Her gaze dropped to that spot and lingered there longer than was reasonable. I saw her lips part and her swallow hard.

—Wow, Mateo —she said softly, without looking away—. Who were you dreaming about?

—Camila, get out of here —I muttered, pulling the pillow over myself.

But she didn’t move. She sat on the edge of the bed, slowly, and pushed the pillow aside with her palm.

—Let me look at it for a second. Just that —she whispered.

—If Mom catches us, she’ll kill us.

—Mom’s downstairs with the radio on. Just a second.

Before I could answer, she herself pulled my briefs down to my thighs. My cock sprang free and slapped against my stomach. Camila’s mouth fell open in pure astonishment.

—My God —she said—. I didn’t imagine it was that big.

I couldn’t speak. All I felt was my heart in my throat and a heat rising through my whole body. Her hand came closer, hesitated, and finally closed around the base. She squeezed. Lifted it off my stomach and stared at it like it was an animal she wasn’t sure would bite. Goosebumps rose along her forearm when she felt it pulse against her palm.

—I’d suck it —she murmured.

—Camila, no…

—Just a little. Before Mom comes up.

She lowered her head. I felt her breath first, then her tongue testing my head with the tip, then her lips closing around it with a tender clumsiness. She didn’t know what to do at first and choked on the second thrust, coughing with her mouth full. She pulled back, laughed with a thread of saliva hanging from her lip, and took it in again. This time she sucked more slowly, going down as far as she could, drawing it out shiny, sucking the tip with tight lips and then going back down again. Her tongue curled around the frenulum. I stroked her hair. She closed her eyes and moaned with my cock in her mouth, and that sound, the sound of my own sister moaning while sucking me off, almost made me come.

—Camila, stop, I’m about to go —I whispered, tugging her hair upward.

She pulled it out of her mouth with a pop, panting, and stared at it up close with glassy eyes.

—Kids, breakfast! —came Mom’s voice from downstairs.

Camila shot upright, cheeks flushed and chin wet. Before leaving the room, she yanked off her T-shirt and panties in one quick motion and stood naked in front of me for a full second. She had small breasts with nipples hard as stones and a triangle of dark trimmed hair between her legs.

—So you don’t forget that too —she said, and dressed again just as fast.

***

We had breakfast like every day, the three of us in our underwear, with the coffeemaker steaming and the radio low in the background. But I no longer saw the same things. I saw my sister’s legs crossing and uncrossing beneath the table. I saw her brush my calf with her foot, pretending it was accidental. I saw my mother’s breasts pressed inside a black bra and the way she leaned over to serve us coffee, her cleavage showing.

—What’s with you two today? —Mom asked—. You’re all giggly like idiots.

—Nothing, Mommy —Camila said, biting her lip—. Mateo woke up with a tent again.

I almost choked. My mother let out a clean laugh, with not a hint of embarrassment.

—Well, that’s normal, son. At your age it would be strange if it were otherwise.

I got up under the pretense of getting sugar. Standing there with my back to my mother, I pulled my briefs down a finger’s width just enough for Camila to see. She bit her fist to keep from laughing. My mother kept talking about the weather, oblivious to everything. Or so I thought then.

The next few days were a delicious torture. Calculated brushes in the hallway, long looks in front of the bathroom mirror, messages from my sister at three in the morning asking if I was awake. We never made it all the way. We only flirted with the idea, turned it over and over, leaned out over the edge and then pulled back again.

Until the following Saturday.

***

Mom left early. She had a ceramics class she didn’t want to miss and left us a note on the counter next to breakfast: “Don’t go back to sleep, you’re big enough. Love you.” Camila came to my room at nine. She locked the door. When she pulled the covers off me, she wasn’t wearing a thing.

—No Mom today —she said.

We didn’t talk much after that. She climbed onto the bed, settled herself astride me, and kissed me. It was her first real kiss; I knew because at first she went stiff and because after a few seconds she started trying things out, tilting her head, looking for the angle. I slid my tongue into her mouth slowly. She sighed into my mouth and rubbed her bare cunt against the bulge in my briefs, soaking them through in two strokes.

—I want you to teach me —she whispered—. Teach me how to fuck, Mateo.

I rolled her onto the bed. I kissed her neck, her small firm breasts, trapped one nipple between my teeth and pulled until a sharp moan escaped her. I kissed her stomach, the insides of her thighs. I spread her legs with both hands and stared at her cunt up close. It was shiny, swollen, with the inner lips peeking out from between the outer ones and a thick drop hanging from the entrance.

—Why has no one ever told me this felt like this? —she asked, her voice broken when I ran my thumb over her clit.

I lowered my mouth. I licked her from bottom to top, very slowly, gathering everything she had and tasting it. Camila arched her back abruptly and let out a muffled cry that she buried in the pillow. I drove my tongue into her opening, pushed it in as far as I could, and then went up to her clit and stayed there, sucking it with my lips and the tip of my tongue at the same time. She pressed my head against her cunt with both hands.

—Mateo, don’t stop —she kept saying—. Please, don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.

I slid in one finger, then two. She was so tight that the second went in with effort. I bent my fingers upward, looking for the spot inside, while I kept sucking her clit. Camila started to tremble. Drops of sweat ran down her neck. She came with her thighs clamping down against my ears and a long shudder that lasted almost a full minute.

When I lifted my face, it was shining all the way to her chin. She looked at me, panting, and laughed breathlessly.

—Come here —she said—. Reverse it. I want to try too.

We got into sixty-nine, me underneath and her on top. Her cunt opened over my mouth. I grabbed her ass with both hands and went back to eating her from below, pushing my tongue all the way in, while up top she settled my cock in her mouth and started sucking me off again. Her mouth was inexperienced, but enthusiastic. What she lacked in technique she made up for in eagerness, spitting saliva over the head, spreading it with her hand, taking it all the way in until she choked, pulling it out with a string of drool and starting again. I got her off with my tongue, stopping just before the climax each time I felt her trembling. Three times. Four. The fifth time she came with a shiver that ran through her whole body, with my cock in her mouth, and left a nail mark on my thigh that lasted a week.

—Now inside —she said afterward, turning over and catching her breath against my chest—. I want to feel you inside me. I want you to fuck me all the way to the hilt.

—Are you sure?

—You have no idea how sure. Fuck me, Mateo.

I put her on her back, spread her legs, and knelt between them. I ran the head of my cock up and down her wet cunt, making sure it was well soaked. She let out a moan of pure anticipation. I pushed in slowly, afraid of hurting her. The head went in with difficulty. She squeezed her eyes shut and gripped my shoulders, digging her nails in. The first thrust made her wince. I waited, with only the tip inside, letting her get used to it. I kissed her forehead. When I moved again, I went in a little farther. And a little farther. And a little farther, until I felt it touch the bottom and she suddenly tensed.

—Ah —she whispered—. Ah, fuck.

—Does it hurt?

—A little. Don’t stop. Move slowly.

I started moving with short thrusts, pulling out halfway and going back in. Her cunt tightened around my cock like a warm glove. Camila drove her heels into my back and panted in my ear. After a minute there was no sign of pain left, only ragged breathing and a smile that widened each time I went in a little deeper. I grabbed one of her breasts with my free hand and pinched the nipple. She moaned without trying to hide it.

—Harder —she begged—. More, Mateo, give it to me harder.

I took her by the hips and started fucking her for real, with long, hard thrusts that made the bed creak against the wall. She looked up at me with her mouth open, her breasts bouncing to the rhythm of the blows, biting her lip so she wouldn’t scream. I put her on all fours and took her from behind again. From there I could see her ass lifted, her cunt stretched around my cock and the little hole tight right above it. I pressed my thumb there, not pushing it in, just pressing, and she came instantly, squeezing around my cock in waves.

—I’m coming —I warned her when I couldn’t hold out anymore—. Camila, I’m coming.

—Take it out. Take it out and come on my tits.

I pulled out. She turned quickly, got on her knees in front of me, and squeezed her breasts together with both hands. I gave her three thick spurts that landed between her breasts and ran down to her chin. She ran a finger down her neck, gathering up the semen, and put it in her mouth without taking her eyes off me.

—It’s salty —she said, laughing.

We finished in the shower. I soaped her back and she returned the favor on her knees, with a patience I hadn’t expected, sucking me off again with hot water falling over both of us until I slammed her back against the tiles and came inside her again, this time without warning. When I got out, I collapsed onto the bed with the feeling that I had crossed a line that couldn’t be undone. Camila curled up against my chest.

—Let’s not tell Mom —she said.

—Of course not.

***

That night, during dinner, my mother looked at us in a way that turned me cold.

—You didn’t have breakfast, did you?

—We overslept —I answered.

—I see —she said, pouring wine—. Of course.

Camila started chattering about school, about a new teacher, about a literature exam. She was talking too much and too fast. My mother nodded, smiled, and every so often set her eyes on me again. She had the look of someone who already knew.

When we cleared the plates, she sat on the sofa and patted the cushion beside her.

—Both of you, come here.

We obeyed. Camila on one side, me on the other. My mother said nothing for a good while. She only ran her hand through each of our hair, the way she used to when we were little.

—Have you fucked? —she finally asked.

Nobody answered. Nobody needed to.

—It’s fine, kids. Really. At your age, and with the kind of complicity you have, it was only a matter of time. —She paused for a long moment—. But this doesn’t get told. Ever. People outside wouldn’t understand.

—Mom, don’t be mad —Camila whispered.

—I’m not mad, sweetheart. I’m going to tell you something. Since your father left, I spent a lot of time thinking I’d become a strange woman. I tried things I wouldn’t have dared to imagine before. I learned a lot. And I learned, above all, that desire isn’t argued with, it’s respected.

She looked me in the eyes.

—Mateo, son, you’re a very handsome boy. More than one night I’ve gotten into the shower and fingered myself thinking about things a mother shouldn’t think. Don’t think I’m made of stone.

Camila stayed silent. So did I. The room smelled of wine and something else, something electric I couldn’t name.

—If the three of us want it —my mother said—, we can talk about it. No secrets. But only if the three of us want it.

—I want it —Camila said at once.

My mother turned her head toward me. She waited.

—Me too —I answered.

***

My mother stood up from the sofa and took off her blouse with the ease of someone slipping off their shoes in their own house. Then her skirt, then the black bra, then the matching panties. Her body was that of a woman who had taken care of herself. Firm breasts, bigger than Camila’s, with dark, broad nipples. A narrow waist, a thin scar over her navel I had never noticed before, her cunt completely shaved and already shiny between her thighs.

—Come here —she said.

Camila undressed first. I did after that. I was rock hard before we even reached the hallway. My mother turned in the bedroom doorway, saw my erection, and laughed under her breath.

—Relax, son. We’re going to make use of it.

She took us to the bedroom unhurriedly, like someone showing two guests to the good room.

She started with Camila. She sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt between her legs. She spread her thighs with her hands and started eating her pussy in front of me, looking me in the eyes over my sister’s mound. Camila threw her head back and let out a long moan. My mother licked with a flat tongue, going up from the entrance to the clit, while she stuck two fingers into her own cunt. I jerked off standing there watching them.

—Come here —my mother said without stopping sucking—. Get behind me.

I knelt behind her. I ran my cock over her ass. She arched her back and offered me her cunt. When I entered my mother for the first time, she threw her head back and let out a deep sound, almost a growl, that made me lose rhythm for an instant. She was looser than Camila and hotter, her inner walls gripping me in waves, as if they had a life of their own.

—Keep going, son —she said—. Slowly. Fuck me slowly and let me work.

She lowered her mouth back to Camila’s cunt. I grabbed her hips and started moving behind her, pulling almost all the way out and going back in. My sister, with her legs open and her hands tangled in Mom’s hair, panted and looked at me over my mother’s shoulder. The bed smelled like the three of us at once. Camila came first, pressing my mother’s mouth against her cunt, feet in the air and fingers gripping the back of her neck. My mother rose from between her legs with her chin shining, turned around on my cock without taking it out, and looked at me with narrowed eyes.

—Now you, sweetheart. Give it all to me. Come inside Mom.

I laid her over Camila. My sister hugged her from underneath, kissed her, sucked her breasts while I drove into her from behind with hard thrusts. The two of them together, on the bed, one under the other, was too much to take in. I held out as long as I could. When I finished, I gave her a long load inside, and my mother held my hand against her hip so I wouldn’t pull away.

—Stay there —she murmured—. A little longer. Don’t take it out yet.

She stayed leaning over Camila for a while, with my cock inside her and my cum leaking out slowly. Then she turned around, spread her legs, and asked Camila to clean her cunt with her mouth. I watched my sister lick our mother’s cum like it was the most natural thing in the world. My mother stroked her hair and whispered, “That’s it, sweetheart, just like that.”

Then it was Camila’s turn again. My mother guided her with her mouth first and then with me, controlling the rhythm with the same calm she used to control everything, telling me when to go deeper, when to go down to a breast, when to kiss her on the mouth. My sister came twice in a row, clutching the sheets, crying a little from sheer surprise, with my mother holding her head and whispering near her ear.

We ended up all three in my mother’s bed, sweaty, not speaking, listening to the ceiling fan. Camila fell asleep first, curled around Mom’s arm. I watched her sleep from the other side.

—Are you okay? —my mother asked me softly.

—Yes. I think so.

—We’ll talk tomorrow. There are rules, son. Few, but important.

—Okay.

—And none of this leaves this house.

—I know.

She fell asleep with her hand on my chest. I took longer. I kept thinking about that Thursday morning, about how Camila had pulled the sheet away without imagining what was coming, about that first look she gave my crotch. A small thing had opened a door I no longer knew whether I wanted to close. I wasn’t sure I wanted to open it wider, either. But that night, listening to the breathing of the two most important women in my life, I knew that house had stopped being what it was. And, at least for now, I didn’t regret it.