The Weekend I Spent at My Sister’s House

There are things one keeps for years without daring to put a name to them. My name is Adrián, I’m thirty-four, and I’ve lived alone in Valencia since the longest relationship of my life ended. After that I decided to focus on work and put everything else on pause. I don’t find it hard to meet people, but I had gone a long time without wanting complications. What I’m about to tell happened just a few weeks ago, and I still can’t look at it calmly.

My sister, Lucía, is a little younger than me. She shares an apartment with a roommate in a city that’s about three hours from mine. We had always been the closest in the family, the ones who would call each other over any nonsense and understand one another with half a sentence. As teenagers we were inseparable, in on everything together, and that closeness never broke even as life scattered us across different maps.

The only thing that had changed over the years was a kind of tension neither of us ever mentioned. I noticed it for the first time at a cousin’s wedding, a couple of years ago. Lucía was wearing a dark dress and, when we danced a slow song because nobody else dared to, there was a second when we both stayed too close. We laughed, stepped apart, and never spoke of it again. But I know she felt it too.

One Thursday afternoon she called me. Her voice was breaking.

—Adrián, I’m a mess —she told me—. Work is a disaster, I think they’re going to fire me, and I don’t have anyone I can really talk to.

—Do you want me to come? —I asked without thinking too much.

There was a silence on the other end.

—Are you serious? —she answered—. That would mean so much to me. I’ll talk to my roommate and let you know, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem.

Her roommate would be away for the weekend, so we’d have the house practically to ourselves. We agreed I’d sleep in her room so I wouldn’t be in the way. I hung up with a strange feeling in my chest, a mix of wanting to help her and something else, more confusing, that I preferred not to analyze.

***

I arrived on Friday night, wrecked from the week and the trip. Lucía welcomed me with a hug that lasted a little longer than usual. We had some random dinner, an improvised pasta and a beer, while she told me everything that was making her anxious. I listened without interrupting, as I always did, and little by little I saw her relax.

—You have no idea what it means to have you here —she told me, resting her head on my shoulder for a moment.

We went to bed with nothing more. She put on a thin nightdress, and I stayed in shorts. We turned off the light, said goodnight, and each rolled to our side of the bed. But I took a long time to fall asleep. I was aware of her breathing a handspan away, of the heat she gave off, of how strange and natural it felt at the same time to share a bed with her now that we were both adults. I forced myself to think about something else, and eventually exhaustion won.

***

Saturday dawned gray and quiet. Lucía suggested we make breakfast together, like when we were kids and fought over who got to beat the eggs. The kitchen was small, so we kept brushing against each other as we moved: a shoulder, a hip, a hand reaching for the pan at the same time as the other.

At one point, while we waited for the coffee to be ready, she told me again about her fears. Her voice cracked once more and I hugged her without thinking. It was a brother-sister hug, the kind we’d always given each other. Only this time neither of us was in a hurry to let go. I felt her whole body pressed against mine, her cheek against my neck, her breath on my skin. And I noticed, with a mix of shame and something else, that my cock was starting to harden against her stomach, impossible to hide through the thin fabric of the nightdress.

She noticed too. I knew because she went very still for a second, her pelvis pressed against mine, and then, instead of pulling away, she drew back slowly, looking me in the eyes in a way I didn’t remember. We said nothing. We poured the coffee and ate breakfast talking about the weather, as if that moment had never happened. But we both knew it had.

The day passed in walks around her neighborhood, a movie stretched out on the sofa, and long conversations. Every so often, without meaning to, our hands found each other. I kept telling myself it was imagination, that I was reading too much into lifelong gestures. She’s your sister, Adrián, stop making things up. But the tension kept rising, slow and thick, like the heat before a storm.

In the afternoon we went to buy something for dinner at a small market near her place. We walked shoulder to shoulder between the stalls and, at one point, so the crowd wouldn’t split us apart, she took my arm. It was a tiny gesture, the kind anyone makes, but I felt her hand tightening around me and I knew neither of us was thinking about dinner. On the way back, climbing the building stairs, she went ahead of me and I couldn’t stop looking at her ass under those tight jeans, the way it moved with every step.

On the sofa, while the movie went on without either of us paying attention, Lucía ended up with her legs crossed over my lap, just like so many times when we were little. Only now I was far too aware of the weight of her thighs brushing my half-hard cock, of the smell of her shampoo, of the curve of her neck every time she laughed at something on the screen. I merely rested my hand on her ankle, not moving it, pretending at a calm I didn’t feel.

***

When night fell, I suggested opening a bottle of wine to unwind.

—Okay —she agreed—, but in the bedroom, because the living room echoes and it makes me feel weird.

We brought the bottle and two glasses, put on music low, and sat on the bed with our backs against the headboard. The wine loosened what little filter was left in us. We talked about summers at our grandparents’ house, the friends we’d lost, the relationships that hadn’t worked. And sometime during the second glass, I dared.

—Can I tell you something without you getting mad? —I asked, staring into the bottom of my glass.

—Go ahead.

—Last night it was hard for me to sleep. And this morning, when I hugged you... —I swallowed—. I don’t know how to explain it. For a while now I’ve been noticing something strange between us, and I’ve never dared to say it out loud.

Lucía fell silent. I thought I’d fucked up, that she was going to ask me to pack my things. But then she set her glass on the nightstand and turned toward me.

—I thought I was the only one who was crazy —she said very softly—. I felt it too. This morning. And at cousin Marta’s wedding. And I don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but right now I’m feeling something I shouldn’t. I’m wet, Adrián. Soaked. And it’s because of you.

My heart was pounding against my ribs. We kept staring at each other in silence, too close, with the music in the background and our breath coming short.

—What if we tried? —I whispered—. Just one kiss. To know.

She didn’t answer with words. She leaned toward me slowly, giving me all the time in the world to back out. I didn’t. When our lips brushed, what had been held back for years suddenly shattered.

***

The kiss started soft and turned hungry within seconds. Lucía pushed her tongue into my mouth, searching for mine, biting my lower lip with a urgency I’d never seen from her before. She held the back of my neck with one hand while the other slid down my chest, over my abdomen, to the edge of my shorts. I felt her pull the waistband down, slip her fingers inside, and grab my cock in full, already rock hard, throbbing in her fist. She let out a muffled moan against my mouth at the thickness.

—Fuck, you’re hard —she whispered—. You’re already leaking.

—We don’t have protection —I murmured between kisses, trying to cling to the last scraps of reason while she started jerking me off, moving her hand up and down my whole shaft, rubbing her thumb over the slippery head.

—Then we’ll just touch each other —she answered without stopping—. Nothing going inside you. But everything else. Everything.

Her hand set a slow, firm rhythm that clouded my mind. I yanked one strap of her nightdress down and freed her tits, heavier and whiter than I’d imagined in the nights I shouldn’t have been imagining them, with the nipples already erect, pink and hard. I went straight for them: sucked them, bit them, pulled them with my lips while she arched her back and dug her nails into my shoulder. I dragged my bite down her neck right where I knew she’d shiver, and Lucía moaned quietly, controlling herself so it wouldn’t be heard outside the room.

—Suck them harder —she gasped, grabbing my hair—. Bite them, Adrián, don’t be gentle with me.

I did as she asked. I pinched one nipple between my teeth while with the other hand I pushed her nightdress up to her waist and tore off her panties. She was so wet that strings of slick were running down the insides of her thighs. I shoved two fingers into her at once and she let out a rough whimper, biting her fist.

—You’re soaked, little sister —I whispered in her ear, surprised myself at saying it—. Dripping wet.

—For you —she answered, tightening her cunt around my fingers—. I’ve spent years thinking about your cock, fuck. Years.

Then she slid down, knelt between my legs on the floor, and pulled my pants and underwear all the way down. My cock sprang free, hard, with the swollen, shining head. Lucía stared at it for a second, eyes bright and mouth parted, before grabbing it at the base with one hand and sticking out her tongue to lick it from balls to tip in one long, slow stroke. I felt the shiver run through me completely.

—Put it in your mouth —I begged, my voice breaking—. Please.

She smiled and opened her lips, letting me watch as she took me in little by little, until the head touched the back of her throat and I felt her choke for an instant. She pulled off, spat on it, grabbed it again with her saliva-soaked hand, and started blowing me for real. She went up and down with her mouth closed, lips tight, sucking me like she’d been starving for centuries. She looked up at me while she did it, her eyes glassy, never looking away for a single second. With her other hand she squeezed my balls, toying with them, weighing them.

—Fuck, Lucía... like that, like that, don’t stop...

When I warned her I wouldn’t last much longer, she didn’t pull away; on the contrary, she sped up, taking me deeper, hand and mouth in sync, and she felt my whole body tightening. I came in her mouth in three long, thick spurts that she took without blinking. I watched her swallow, watched her run her tongue over her lips looking for anything that had escaped her and wipe a drop from her chin with her finger to lick it afterward. She didn’t let a thing out. I was left gasping, sprawled out, with the ceiling spinning and my cock still throbbing against my stomach.

—Your turn —I said when I recovered my voice a little.

I gently pushed her to lie on her back and took her nightdress off completely. Naked, she was even better than I’d fantasized: her tits falling to either side, her flat stomach, her shaved pussy shining with moisture all the way up to her groin. I spread her legs wide, placed them over my shoulders, and lay face down between them.

—Fuck, you smell so good —I murmured before giving the first lick.

I ran my tongue over her entire slit, bottom to top, and she jerked and drove her heels into my back. I did it again, slower, stopping at the clit, circling around it without quite touching. Lucía writhed under me, gripping my hair with both hands.

—Don’t torture me, bastard —she gasped—. Eat me out already.

I obeyed. I closed my lips around her clit and started sucking it, first gently, then harder, while I slid two fingers into her cunt and curled them looking for that spot inside. She started trembling almost at once, moving her hips against my face, smearing my chin with her juices. I shoved a third finger in and felt her contract all around me.

—Yes, yes, yes, like that, don’t stop...

I told her to get on top, to position herself over my face, and she obeyed, bracing herself against the headboard, straddling me, with her pussy right over my mouth. I grabbed her ass cheeks with both hands, squeezing hard, and pulled her down against me. She rode my tongue with less and less shame and more and more urgency each time, grinding my face, rubbing herself shamelessly, biting her hand to keep from shouting while she looked down at me with half-closed eyes. I pushed my tongue in as deep as I could and then went back to her clit, sucking it hungrily.

—I’m coming, Adrián, I’m coming, I’m coming...

Her whole body went rigid at once, her legs clamping around my head, and she came trembling over me, letting out a long, rough moan that died in her own fist. I could feel her cunt pulsing against my mouth, soaking my chin and neck. I held her there a little longer, sucking her clit more gently until she stopped shaking and collapsed beside me, sweaty, exhausted, cheeks flushed.

We lay staring at each other in the dim light, not knowing what we were from that moment on. I brushed hair off her forehead, and she smiled at me with a smile that was half guilt and half triumph. We kissed again, this time slowly, almost tenderly, though I knew of her and she knew of me, and we fell asleep wrapped around each other as if it were the most normal thing in the world, my cock waking again against her hip.

***

In the morning neither of us mentioned the word regret. Lucía made me coffee as if nothing had happened and, as she passed by me, left a kiss on the nape of my neck that promised it wasn’t over. The next day, before I had to go back to Valencia, more things happened. But that’s another story, and I still don’t know if I’ll dare tell it.