What My Brother and I Did on the Balcony That Night

I became my brother’s whore for one night. The phrase sounds harsh, and said like that it wakes up every moral reflex we carry inside us, but in my head that early morning it had a perfect logic. Mateo and I crossed a line months ago that we didn’t know how to come back from, and since then what we do when no one is watching bears no resemblance to what two siblings are supposed to share. We fuck like animals, as if the shared last name were extra fuel, and every time he fills my cunt with his semen I feel like I’m tearing another piece away from sanity.

Then Iván came along, my current boyfriend, a hurricane of confidence and money who entered our lives and dragged the three of us onto even more complicated ground. The first time the three of us ended up in his house bed, I thought something would break forever. It didn’t break. It just shifted. My body became a bridge between them, Mateo’s nervous cock spearing my ass while Iván’s thick dick opened my cunt wide, and I was in the middle, moaning like a bitch, swallowing one after the other the loads of the two men who mattered most to me.

The problem wasn’t me. I made no distinctions. My skin received them both without measuring, without thinking about which one deserved more. I sucked one cock while the other sank into me from behind, and I didn’t care whose load I swallowed. The problem was that something began to seep in between them, a current nobody named but everybody felt. Jealousy, I suppose, though neither of them would have said it that way. And Mateo, with his twenty-five years and the rebellious streak of someone who has known me since we were born, was handling the sharing the worst.

Iván lives in a villa on the outskirts of Sitges, in a development with wide streets and neighbors who greet each other with a nod. At night, there’s almost no sound there, except the distant engine of some car losing its way among the roundabouts. When he goes away on work trips, the whole house falls asleep, and I’m incapable of sleeping without having fucked properly first. I need a cock to wreck me before I close my eyes; I need to feel my cunt swollen and semen dripping down my thighs. I’ve been like this for years. I didn’t choose it, it’s simply how my body works.

On those nights when Iván isn’t there, Mateo comes to keep me company. Nobody asks. Nobody needs to ask. We go up to the first-floor bedroom, close the balcony, and surrender to a ritual we already know by heart. My brother yanks my nightgown off in one pull, throws me onto the bed, pries my legs open with his knees, and drives his cock into me to the hilt without asking. Sometimes so noisy that I’m afraid the neighbors will hear us. The urgency of the forbidden seeps into every thrust, into every moan swallowed against a pillow, into every “look at me, sister, look at me while I fuck you.”

The last night of last August, something went off-script.

***

Mateo had stayed downstairs in the living room for the end of a movie. I went up first, took a quick shower, and got ready for him. I shaved my cunt carefully, rubbed cream over my tits and ass, pinched my nipples in front of the mirror until they were hard as stones. The bed smelled like the new sheets Iván had put on the weekend before. I put on some low music, switched off the main light, and left the bedside lamp on, the one with the amber shade that makes the room feel smaller than it is.

My brother was taking his time. The house was silent. I lit a cigarette and stepped out onto the balcony, barefoot and naked, confident that no one would be looking up at that hour. The breeze came from the sea, still warm from August, and twisted between my legs as if it wanted to lick my cunt. I rested my elbows on the railing, took a long drag, and let myself be carried by that strange peace that windless nights bring. The fresh air made my nipples hard and I felt a tingle run down to my clit.

When Mateo finally came into the bedroom, he did it with his usual air of a boy who is late everywhere and still forgives you the wait with a smile. He threw himself onto the bed, folded his arms behind his neck, and watched me from behind for a few seconds without saying a word. In the reflection on the glass I could see the bulge in his pants.

—Like that, with your back turned and a cigarette in your hand, you look like the owner of a brothel —he said at last, in that voice he uses when he wants to provoke me.

I laughed without turning around. I liked the idea more than I should have.

—And how much would a client pay for a night with me? —I asked, flicking ash into the void.

—Any price would be expensive —he replied—. You steal my soul without asking me for a euro. But if you insist, I’ll pay you twenty to watch you finger your cunt for a while.

I didn’t need his twenty euros, of course not. But the game had started, and I’ve never known how to say no to a game with him. I switched the cigarette to my other hand and let the other one climb slowly up my side, over the curve of my breast, over the nipple that hardened without me even having to ask it. I pinched it hard, stretched it until a small moan slipped between my teeth. I took another drag and exhaled the smoke upward, toward that Sitges sky where you can hardly see any stars, except that night I could.

—Enough? —I asked, glancing over my shoulder.

Mateo shook his head, amused, already rubbing his cock through his pants. I threw the cigarette over the railing and let my hand keep moving down, slow, roaming over my waist, my hip, the inner face of my thigh. I spread my legs a little, leaning back against the cold metal, and let my fingers play with the lips of my cunt, parting them, showing my brother how wet I already was. I slid my middle finger in to the knuckle, pulled it out shining, and brought it to my mouth. I stopped before finishing, looked at him with feigned severity.

—Queens don’t sell themselves at bargain prices —I told him—. If you want more, raise the bid.

—There’s no point paying for something that’s already mine —he replied, laughing, pulling his cock out of his pants so I could see it. It was hard, thick, the head shining with saliva and desire.

I stuck out my tongue, pretended to be offended, and went barefoot down to the kitchen. I opened the fridge, took out a bottle of water, and drank with my back against the edge of the counter, letting the cold run down my throat. I pressed the icy glass to the back of my neck and peered for a moment out the kitchen window, which faces the street across from us.

***

And then I saw him.

At first it was just the dog. A large cinnamon-colored dog, running between the parked cars with no clear direction. I kept watching it, because I’ve always been soft for lost animals. But a dog like that wouldn’t be wandering alone at three in the morning in a place like this. I lifted my gaze a little higher and then I found him, a motionless figure sitting on the bench directly opposite Iván’s villa, across the street.

A car passed, its headlights swept the sidewalk, and for one second I saw a skinny boy, my age or a little older, staring fixedly at the bedroom balcony. The balcony where I had been naked five minutes earlier, tits out and fingers between my legs.

I felt something strange. Not fear. Something older, more visceral. A heat rose from my lower belly and settled between my thighs like a ember. I stayed there watching him from the kitchen window, where the switched-off light made me invisible. When he got up from the bench and climbed onto the backrest, trying to stretch upward to see better, I understood. He wasn’t there by chance. He’d been watching for a while. He’d been getting hard for what he’d seen of me for a while.

Instead of backing away, a strange spark lit in me. I lowered my hand, parted the lips of my cunt with two fingers, and started rubbing my clit right there, in the darkness of the kitchen, while I watched him from behind, not knowing he was being watched. I shoved two fingers in deep, then three, feeling my juices slick down my wrist. With the other hand I pinched my nipple, twisted it until it hurt. The orgasm came fast, almost effortlessly, a brief wave that made me bite my lips so I wouldn’t scream and left me trembling against the tile, my cunt throbbing and my legs weak. It was intimate and stupid, and at the same time the most exciting secret I’d had in a long time.

I went back to the bedroom with a plan already taking shape in my head. Before that I went to my bag, took out my phone, and propped it on an inner balcony ledge, wedged between two flowerpots, with the camera recording toward the street. I didn’t think about it much. I just did what something inside me pushed me to do.

—Tonight’s your lucky night —I told Mateo when I came in—. Special offer. For one euro more, you’ve got my whole body for tonight. All the holes, all the loads you can manage. I’ve already earned the twenty from before.

Mateo smiled like a kid who has just heard an impossible promise. He finished pulling down his pants and underwear in one yank, and stood there in front of me with his hard cock pointing at my navel. He nodded. I took one of the bedroom chairs, placed it in the middle of the balcony, slightly to one side, and put my right foot on the seat. I rested my back on the railing, let my hair fall over the void. One hand on my chest, squeezing my breast, the other between my legs, two fingers sunk into my cunt to the knuckle. Making sure, though, that the boy across the street could see just enough. Enough to understand what was happening, not enough to have it all.

The first moans came out on their own as soon as my fingers brushed my swollen clit. I rubbed it in circles, slowly, while with my other hand I spread my cunt lips so the stranger across from me could catch the wet shine between my legs. I called Mateo over in a whisper.

—Come here. Tonight I feel like doing something dirty. I want you to fuck me on the balcony. I want your cock inside me now.

My brother, who usually doesn’t dare that much, didn’t hesitate this time. I lowered my foot from the chair, raised my arms, and wrapped them around his neck, trapping him against me. We kissed with that fury we already know, tongue searching for something that can’t quite be found, hot lips, teeth clashing. My right hand slid down his chest, his stomach, until it found his cock, hard as a bar, pulsing in my palm. I squeezed it, moved it up and down, felt the first drop of pre-cum appear at the tip. I brought it to my finger and licked it in front of his eyes.

—I want you to do me from behind —I whispered—. I want this whole street to know. I want them to hear you fuck me, hear you wreck your little sister’s cunt.

I pushed him back a step, knelt down on the cold tiles, and took him into my mouth. I sucked him all the way, to the hilt, until I felt the head brush my throat and tears rise to my eyes. I grabbed his balls with one hand, massaged them, while with the other I opened my cunt for him. I pulled it out dripping with saliva, spat on the head, and took him back in, slower this time, savoring every inch. Not for long. Just enough for him to understand I meant it, that tonight I was the one in charge. When his hand seized my hair and pulled with just the right force, setting the rhythm, leaving me breathless, I knew we were ready. He lifted me up, turned me against the railing, and with a movement he had already learned from the two of us, kicked my legs apart. I gripped the metal with both hands, arms stretched out, back arched, ass lifted and offered, and let out a scream that must have echoed through the whole development when I felt him enter in one single thrust, to the hilt, until his balls slapped against my clit.

—Fuck, Mateo, like that, don’t stop, put all your cock in me, wreck me —I panted, biting my lip.

I searched for the boy on the bench with my eyes. He was still there, now standing, not moving, one hand buried inside his pants. I challenged him silently, never looking away, while Mateo drove into me again and again with that fury he only gets when he knows I’m not going to ask him to stop. The sound of flesh against flesh, of his hips slamming into my ass, echoed off the sleeping facades. Every thrust tore a new moan out of me, sharper, more obscene.

—More, brother, please, more, give me more cock —I begged him, with a voice that didn’t sound like mine—. Let it show on me tomorrow, leave me wide open.

—Never has a euro gone so far —he answered, laughing between gasps, gripping my hips with both hands, his fingers digging into my flesh—. Look at how your cunt swallows it, little sister, look at how it asks for more.

He brought one hand to my clit and rubbed it in the same rhythm he was fucking me. I laughed too, just before the orgasm exploded like a wave in my face. I felt my cunt clench in spasms around his cock, trapping it, milking it. I shook my head, let my hair fall forward, pressed my back against his chest while he stayed inside, still, letting me feel every pulse. I gulped fresh air in big breaths, never taking my eyes off the boy across the street. I saw a quick movement in his pants, a gesture that gave me back everything I had given him. He was jerking off watching me, and that idea made me wet all over again. I signaled to him with my lips to wait. The night wasn’t over yet.

—Now in the ass —I asked Mateo, very softly, with his cock still buried in my cunt—. But start the way you know how.

One of my least confessable vices, maybe the most intimate, is feeling the glans make its way in, stretching the anus again and again, going in and out slowly, repeatedly, before staying inside. Mateo knows it. He pulled his cock out of my cunt, dripping with my juices, and pressed it against my tight little hole. He pushed slowly, very slowly, until the head passed the first ring. He stayed there a second, letting me feel the stretch, the delicious burn. Then he came out. Went in again. Came out again. He did it ten, twelve times, with a patience I never ask for in other things, each time going a little deeper, each time tearing a rougher moan from me. Meanwhile, my fingers went after my clit with the urgency the other hand didn’t have. I rubbed it in fast circles, mercilessly, while I felt my ass opening for him, while my own body yielded and asked him for more.

—Put it all the way in already, brother —I begged—. Fill my ass up.

Mateo pushed once and drove it in to the root. The scream that escaped me wasn’t human. Tears of pleasure filled my eyes, my knees went weak, and only the railing held me up. He started pumping, first slowly, then harder, gripping my hair with one hand and my hip with the other. When I came, after a few minutes like that, it was a different tide, deeper, almost silent, a discharge that climbed my spine and made me see white. The world slipped away from me for a second. I felt Mateo trembling behind me, clenching his teeth, trying to hold on.

The boy on the bench was still there, his hand now out, moving fast over his own cock. I looked at him one last time from across the street and smiled.

***

I pulled away from Mateo with the slyness of someone who knows she’s broken half a deal and has no intention of paying it. I felt his cock slide out of my ass with a wet sound, and a thread of my juices ran down my thigh. I had barely taken two barefoot steps toward the inside when his hand grabbed my forearm. He yanked without warning, lifted me as if I weighed nothing, and sat me on the icy edge of the railing.

—You haven’t earned the last cent —he growled, his voice hoarse with someone who hasn’t come yet and can’t take it anymore—. I still haven’t emptied myself.

I clutched his neck instinctively, afraid of losing my balance and falling three floors. He spread my thighs without asking permission, grabbed his cock with his hand, and shoved it in again, this time head-on, into my cunt, in one single stroke. I let myself be carried by it, without fighting, without thinking, my legs around his waist and my tits bouncing against his chest with each thrust. I felt him swelling inside me, felt him speeding up, felt his rhythm break apart. When he came, he did it with an animal growl, emptying himself inside and claiming his share, shot after shot of hot semen flooding me to the bottom. We stayed like that for a moment, suspended, his chest pressed to mine and the street mute behind us, his cock throbbing inside and his semen already slipping down my thighs toward the asphalt.

When I finally went inside, feeling my brother’s semen running down my legs with each step, I drew the curtains closed with a slow, almost ceremonial gesture. I peered out through a slit for a second. The boy across the street was walking away down the road, a slender silhouette dissolving under the streetlights, with a dark stain visible at the front of his jeans. The dog, whatever dog it had been, had gone with him.

That same night, while Mateo slept on his back with his cock still shining between his thighs, I went down to the study and transferred the videos from my phone to the computer. The images were dark, almost unusable. But with a basic program I kept raising the brightness, adjusting the contrast, until the boy’s face appeared with an almost magical clarity. And when I saw it clearly, I knew what I was going to do.

The truth that left me breathless that night wasn’t the balcony’s or my brother’s. It was another one, quieter. That being watched while I’m fucked excites me more than any orgy I’ve ever had. It’s not the same as when the three of us are at Iván’s place and one watches while the other fucks me. That has an audience but no secret. That night did.

And that, that new fire that now burns somewhere inside me, between my legs and in my head at the same time, I still don’t really know what to call it.