The Snow Trapped Us in a Secret Between Siblings

That morning we woke up with horror in our bones. Renata helped Greta force the shutters open and, as soon as they opened the first window, we were left frozen. I know it sounds silly to put it that way, but I can’t find any other way. Snow covered everything as far as the eye could see, as if someone had thrown a giant sheet over the mountains and the forests.

—Don’t try to open the door —Helga said—. All the snow will come in. We’re going to have to use the shovels to clear the entrance.

—What for? We can’t go anywhere anyway —Camila protested.

—Don’t start with your complaints —our mother, Liliana, cut her off—. Helga knows about these things. If she needs help, we help her. Where are the shovels?

We spent the next hour and a half shoveling snow. Nice vacation, right? I never imagined something so soft and fluffy could weigh so much. We piled it up to the sides, clearing five meters from the door, just as Helga had asked. When we went back inside, I stood for a while in front of the glass, watching it start to snow again.

—In the end, all that work was pointless —I said out loud.

—Not at all —Greta answered behind my back; I hadn’t heard her come up—. If the storm keeps dumping snow, it’s going to block the entrance and it’ll be much worse to clear. Did you see how heavy it was? Imagine having to do that after three straight days of snowfall.

—Mm... could be.

—Could be nothing. That’s how it is. Didn’t you ever live somewhere it snows?

—No. Where I live, the closest thing to snow they serve in cones.

Greta smiled. She has a beautiful smile.

—You’re not quite as useless as I thought —she said, and the remark hit me like a slap—. You’re mom’s spoiled little boy, obvious from a mile away. Since we got here, you were the only one who didn’t lift a single plate. But today you worked well. You probably took out the most snow. I like that. I can’t stand useless people.

I stayed quiet, not knowing what to say. Renata appeared then and wrapped an arm around me; I took her by the waist on pure reflex. We stood watching the flakes dance in the wind while Greta went back inside, used to winters that were a miracle to us.

***

After breakfast I went to shower. Not because I wanted to, but because my mother insisted: “I don’t want anyone smelling bad in front of the hosts. You first, then your sisters.” But there was someone who didn’t intend to follow the order to the letter.

Renata came into the bathroom while I was soaping myself up. She stripped fast and stepped into the shower with a smile.

—Oh, the water’s warm, just how I like it.

—Have you gone crazy, Renata?

—Don’t be so intense, Bruno. Relax a little.

She wrapped her arms around me and gave me one of those kisses that melt a glacier. I felt her hand closing around my cock and it got hard instantly. The fastest erections of my life were always her fault. I was afraid they’d catch us and, at the same time, I was fascinated by this rebellious version of my sister, the one who no longer obeyed every order from Mom.

The door flew open. Renata didn’t have time to pull away or let me go. We went rigid, convinced it was Liliana. It wasn’t.

A pair of sapphire-colored eyes looked at us without expression. Greta stepped in, closed the door carefully behind her, as if avoiding making noise, and we stayed stiff as statues. Only the water hitting the floor could be heard in the bathroom.

—Are you always this affectionate with each other? —she asked, with a calm that sent shivers down my spine.

She sat on the toilet lid, rested her hands on her knees, and waited for an answer.

—Permission, right? —Renata said.

—I’m not used to asking permission.

This girl scares me more than my cousin Brisa, I thought. And that’s saying a lot.

—We’re just showering —I said hoarsely. A ridiculous explanation, considering Renata was still caressing me.

—And do you always shower together?

—Sometimes —Renata answered—. It’s a habit. Why? Does it bother you?

—Not at all. My sister and I shower together sometimes too, though my mother doesn’t like it. —She pointed at the hand wrapped around me—. Your mother must hate you doing that with your brother.

—Oh, it’s not that big a deal. It’s a sign of affection.

—I see. —She was still expressionless, but there was a strange glint in her eyes—. And how far do those signs of affection go?

For Renata the question was a challenge. She knelt in front of me and kissed the tip of my cock, then gave Greta a wicked smile. She was playing with fire. What was going to happen when this girl told her mother and sister what she’d seen?

—You and your sister... do you have those kinds of displays when you shower too? —Renata asked.

—Sometimes. Caresses. She does it more than I do; she complains that I’m too unexpressive.

Why am I not surprised?

—Has she ever put her fingers in you? —Renata pressed on, already moving her hand over me.

—Yes. And I’ve done it to her too.

She answered with the coldness of an expert witness. I knew nothing about Greta’s life or her family, and that intrigued me: she was a mystery I wanted to solve.

Renata slowly opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue without taking her eyes off her, and ran it over my glans. The tingling made me tremble. She licked in silence, waiting for a reaction that didn’t come, so she upped the stakes and took the tip into her mouth, then a little more.

—It’s the first time I’ve seen a girl do that with her brother’s cock —Greta said—. But if it’s only once in a while, I don’t think it’s so bad.

Those words encouraged Renata, who started sucking it for real, without hiding it. It wasn’t a pretence: it was a proper blowjob, sister to brother. Greta watched the scene without moving a muscle, like an ice statue.

—Once my sister licked my pussy —she blurted out.

We were left speechless.

—And what was it like? —I asked, unable to keep quiet.

—Ingrid paid me to do it. She said she wanted to satisfy her curiosity and needed it to be someone she trusted, not a stranger. She doesn’t have friends, only male friends. Someday you’ll understand why.

That surprised me. From the little I’d seen, Ingrid seemed nice and sociable.

—And did you like it? —I wanted to know.

—I told her no, so she wouldn’t push it. It felt weird seeing her so committed to something lesbian. I don’t mind lesbians, on the contrary, they turn me on. I’ve never been with a woman beyond that, but I like watching them. What I can’t stand is seeing guys in porn. I prefer men in real life.

I was surprised by how honest she was. I wondered whether she was like that with everyone or if she’d finally found someone she could talk to without filters.

—Then why did it bother you? —I insisted.

—Because she took it way too seriously. I thought it was an innocent game, like fooling around in the shower. But no. Ingrid was out of control, as if she wanted to do that for the rest of her life. And in this town they’re all homophobes. I don’t want her to suffer.

Renata winked at me and kept sucking with fervor. I understood what she was after. I wasn’t sure we should go that far, but I trusted her instinct. I came in her mouth and on part of her face; she took it all without flinching, swallowing little by little. When I finished, she stood up.

—Yeah, accidents happen sometimes —she said, and walked up to Greta like a horny cat.

Then she kissed her. To my surprise, the blonde didn’t push her away: she hugged her and kissed her back, along with all the traces that were left. It was one of the most unexpected surprises of my life, and that’s saying something, considering I had quite a few, like when I found out my aunt Marisol was in a relationship with her own daughter.

—Come on —Renata said, taking her by the hand—. Let’s go to the room, I’m dying to talk to you.

She grabbed a towel and I watched them walk away, leaving me alone and my cock throbbing. A second later, Renata stuck her head back in.

—And don’t even think about spying on us —she said, and closed the door.

***

Later I went back to the room I shared with my mother, looking to get away from awkward conversations with strangers. I found that Camila had had the same idea: she was naked on the bed, masturbating, with the laptop between her legs and a conventional porn video on the screen, with those perfect actors who look artificial.

—Couldn’t you do that in your own room? —I said, sitting down beside her.

—No, Ingrid keeps popping in every so often. What an annoying girl.

Camila kept sliding her fingers inside herself without the least bit of shame. She has the habit of jerking off in front of the whole family, and I don’t mind, although Mom scolds her for being provocative. And she’s right, especially coming from the person who keeps saying incest has to end.

—Did you do anything with Mom last night? —she asked, without stopping rubbing herself.

—Nothing —I lied—. Helga came in to ask if we needed anything and stayed chatting for quite a while. I fell asleep.

I avoided telling her that my cock had been inside my mother for half the night, and that at dawn, with the storm worsening, she climbed on top of me and rode me until she collapsed exhausted. I never thought she’d have that kind of stamina. Seeing her tits bouncing and slick with sweat had an erotic charge no video of Camila’s could give me.

—Don’t worry, nothing happened —I repeated, not for me, but so as not to get her into trouble—. But there’s something I don’t understand, Cami. You were the one who enjoyed all this the most. Why did you change your mind so suddenly?

—I didn’t change my mind. I always knew what we were doing wasn’t healthy and that one day it would have to end. I accepted it while the pandemic lockdown lasted because otherwise I would’ve gone insane. But what happened during the pandemic stays in the pandemic. It’s time to move on.

I never imagined she thought that way. She showed me I still didn’t know my sisters as well as I thought.

—And what exactly is wrong with it?

She stopped her hand and turned her head toward me with her icy eyes. There was no anger on her face, only serenity, and even so a shiver ran through me.

—Do I really have to explain it? I can think of something better. What time is it? Nine-thirty. Between here and Argentina there’s a five-hour difference, so it’s four-thirty over there. She’s definitely awake. She likes staying up late.

***

She opened a chat and typed: “Hi, slut, are you awake?” The reply came in seconds: “Hey, Cami, I was just thinking about you. How’s Switzerland?” Camila gave her a summary of the storm and the isolation, and told her that at that moment she was masturbating with me beside her.

—Bruno would like to know more about incest. Do you feel like a video call?

—Of course! I’m on vacation too and bored. Talking would do me good.

Camila turned on the camera without bothering to cover herself; with the laptop’s angle, her pussy was fully visible. There was only one person she could talk to about this so casually: Mariela, her psychologist. I liked that woman, although we hadn’t spoken since the pandemic, when she helped us understand Mom and Camila. I hoped she would help me now.

When her camera switched on, a plump woman with pretty features appeared, her brown hair mussed and an old pajama T-shirt outlining her nipples. She was kneeling on the bed and, every time she moved her legs, I lost my breath: something told me she wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

—I see you’re still keeping up the habit of masturbating in front of your brother —Mariela said, with the calm of a professional.

—She does it in front of everyone —I answered—. It’s contradictory. She tells us not to have sex with each other, but she masturbates in plain view.

—Me masturbating shouldn’t be an invitation —Camila defended herself.

—We’ve already talked about this, Cami. Your actions have consequences. Don’t pretend they don’t just because you say so.

Camila puffed out her cheeks like a kid throwing a tantrum.

—That’s what I think too —I added—. If she wants sex to end so badly, she should set an example. She could stop sleeping with Mom. They’re always fucking, but if I do the same with Renata, they get pissed. They’re hypocrites.

—And does that bother you? —Mariela asked.

—A lot. Besides, there’s something else, but I don’t know if Cami wants to tell it.

—Better I show you —my sister said, winking at the camera.

Then she took my cock out of my pants, lowered her head and started sucking it, just like that night when she came into my room while I was playing on the console and started blowing me for no reason.

—Was that what happened, Bruno?

—Yes. And she did it right after one of her “incest has to end” speeches. It left me confused.

—Understandable. This doesn’t help, Camila. Though, if it were up to me, don’t stop. You know I love watching you suck.

That threw me even more. Camila smiled and kept swallowing for Mariela’s delight, and mine too, because I’m not going to deny I liked it. I also liked seeing the psychologist spread her legs wider; I was close to finding out whether she was wearing panties.

—Few things excite me as much as incest —she admitted.

—Is it okay for a psychologist to say that?

—No, of course not. But right now we’re not in therapy. I’m just helping you clear up some doubts. And since I’m not working, I can ask Camila to put a little more enthusiasm into it. That... suck it like you mean it.

Her sadistic smile hit me right in the chest. It’s not that I was falling in love, but she turned me on, and I understood where my sister got her crazy ideas.

—Why can we do this and not with Renata? I don’t understand anything —I said, irritated.

—The problem isn’t incest itself, Bruno. I know you fucked Mom last night, even if you deny it. Alicia woke up in a good mood, and that only happens when she fucks at night.

—Then what’s the problem?

—That you do it with Renata.

—And what’s the difference if I do it with her, with you or with Mom?

—That’s something you have to figure out on your own —Mariela cut in—. Psychology barely studies consensual incest, it only deals with it when there’s abuse. About two siblings who decide to do this for pleasure, it draws a blank. What little there is is full of prejudice: “it’s wrong because society says it’s wrong.”

—So... is there nothing wrong with it?

—There is. Society punishes incest harshly. Every time you do it, you’re playing with fire. What would happen if someone found out?

I turned my head toward the door, startled. Camila did too. The slit at the bottom, which had been letting light through before, was now dark.

—Someone’s outside —I whispered—. I saw a shadow.

—Maybe someone just walked by.

My heart was pounding like a drum. That was when I understood Mariela. What if Helga or one of her daughters came in at that moment? It had already been hard enough to explain the bathroom scene, and I wasn’t even sure I’d convinced them.

—You’ll figure it out soon enough —was all Camila said.

That pissed me off so much I was about to insult her and leave. But she noticed and decided to reward me: she climbed on top of me and let my cock slide all the way in.

—Wow... impressive. It’s been a long time since I saw a live brother-sister penetration —Mariela murmured, spreading her legs even more.

She wasn’t wearing underwear. Her pussy, with trimmed hair and plump lips, came into view. She started stroking herself until her fingers were wet and then slid them inside. Seeing her, my anger faded. I grabbed Camila by the waist and we kept fucking for a good while.

—Tell me, Cami —the psychologist asked, without stopping masturbating—. Have you licked your mom’s pussy these days?

—Yes, before the trip. It was spectacular. It’s one of those addictions I can’t quit.

—Uff, and with how hot Liliana is. If she were my mother, I’d fuck her too.

Mariela sank two fingers all the way in. My cock throbbed inside my sister.

—And you’re really her psychologist? —I asked, both intrigued and horny.

—I am. But I’m not conventional. I have my own methods.

—I thought psychologists weren’t allowed to sleep with their patients.

—I’m very selective. Camila isn’t the first and won’t be the last.

The rest of the conversation was Mariela masturbating while I filled Camila over and over, until she asked to see how she took my load. My sister indulged her: in seconds she was sucking me with enthusiasm. I came in spurts and Camila savored every bit of it, while little transparent jets shot from the psychologist’s pussy. At that moment I wished she were my psychologist.

—Sorry if I didn’t clear up all your doubts —she said, calmer now—. There are things you have to discover on your own. And as for stopping the incest, you could try something: a goodbye.

—A what? —Camila asked.

—One last sex session. Actually two: one individual and one group, since there was also group sex in the family. The important thing is that, before that last time, you all know it won’t happen again. That the act marks the end of a stage. And remember: this farewell is forever.

A lump formed in my throat. It terrifies me to think my next time with Renata might be the last. I’m not ready to close this stage of my life.