I Pretended to Sleep and Discovered What They Were Doing in My Living Room

I’m not quite sure where to begin, but my pulse still trembles when I remember it, and I’d rather tell it while it’s still fresh. If I let it sit another week, I’m going to start doubting whether it really happened or whether it was one of those scenes the brain invents when you fall asleep on the wrong sofa. Writing it down may help put it in order.

That Friday I’d dragged my body around like I was pulling a sack of cement. I’d had the worst week of the year: split shifts, two late deliveries, and a boss whose patience I’d run out of on Tuesday. When I got home, I went straight to my room, flopped onto the bed on my back without taking off my sneakers, and turned on the console with the idea of not talking to anyone until Monday.

I was battling a final boss, cranky because I couldn’t land a single hit, when Camila pushed the door open without knocking. My older sister has that habit of walking in as if she owned the air I breathe. She barely looked at me.

—Bruno, put the console down for a while. Two friends are coming over for a drink. Come downstairs for a bit, don’t be such a grump.

I was about to say no, but then she muttered Mara’s name and my face changed. Mara is the friend who’s been coming around to the get-togethers since last summer and who makes me look at the floor every time she laughs so it won’t show. I told her I’d be down in a while, shut off the console with a hard smack on the controller because I’d missed the level, and washed my face with cold water before changing my T-shirt.

I went downstairs pretending to be halfhearted about it. Carla and Mara were already in the living room, settled on the long sofa, with two bottles on the coffee table and a warm lamp glowing in the corner. Carla is a bit older, probably around thirty-five, tall, dark-skinned, with very long, very straight hair. She has small, slanted eyes, a mole at the cheekbone, and a way of looking that seems to be calculating something. Mara, on the other hand, is shorter, light blonde, with huge eyes and a small mouth. They’d cut her hair to shoulder length and it suited her better than before. I greeted both of them like nothing was up, but inside my blood was boiling.

The four of us sat down to drink. I tried to keep things sensible, but by the second glass I was flirting with Mara as if Camila weren’t there. She answered me with sideways smiles, those looks that last a second longer than they should. My sister, though, drilled her eyes into me and I got the message: ease off. I dialed it back and focused on listening.

The problem was exhaustion. Half an hour later my eyelids were heavy. I shifted to the sofa across from them, rested my neck on the armrest, and closed my eyes for a second. After that second, nothing. I fell asleep without meaning to, with the chatter in the background and the vanilla smell of Mara’s perfume in my nose.

I don’t know how long I slept. I woke up to the brush of a fleece blanket my sister had thrown over me without making a sound. I didn’t open my eyes all the way: just parted my lashes enough to confirm where I was and close them again. Camila was sitting with the other two, I silently thanked her for the blanket, and settled onto my side against the backrest.

I wanted to go back to sleep and couldn’t. They were laughing loudly, talking over each other, and between bursts of laughter they kept shushing one another by naming me. Will someone shut them up, please, I thought. But I didn’t dare get up. And then, after a while, they lowered their voices until they were whispering, and curiosity pinned my eyes to the sofa leather.

They were talking about men. About first times. About big dicks and small dicks, about guys who didn’t know how to use their tongues and guys who had made them come until they were shaking. With my face pressed into the sofa and the blanket up to my neck, I stayed still. Every time one of the three dropped a detail, I held my breath so I wouldn’t miss the next line.

—If it stays between us —Carla said, lowering her voice even more—, I have a fantasy I’ve never told anyone.

Here it comes, I thought without moving.

—What is it? —Camila and Mara asked almost at the same time.

—I’ve always thought other women’s tits were really beautiful. Mine bore me. I want to suck another woman’s nipples, bite them, watch them go hard in my mouth.

There was a silence that lasted less than it should have. Mara put both hands over her chest through her T-shirt and squeezed them with a smile, as if she were checking a hypothesis.

—If they’re pretty, they’re pretty —Mara said.

—Will you let me see them? —Carla asked, and my body started to come apart under the blanket.

Mara didn’t answer with words. She pulled up her T-shirt and the cup of her bra in one movement, as if she’d rehearsed it, and exposed her right breast. The lamp light barely touched her skin, and her nipple was a pale pink, already hard, pointing upward. Carla let out an almost inaudible sigh and moved close to her face, lips parted, until she brushed the nipple with her lips without quite sucking it.

—What a pretty nipple you have —she said, and ran the tip of her tongue over it once, slowly, drawing a short gasp from Mara. Then she pulled back with a catlike smile—. Now you.

Carla took her T-shirt off over her head and bared both tits at once, without a bra. They were bigger, wider, with dark areolas and firm nipples that had gone hard just from looking at Mara. Mara bit her lip.

—You’ve made me want to taste them. Can I?

—Come here.

Mara leaned over Carla with one hand on her waist and caught one nipple with her mouth. She started slowly, licking in circles, sucking patiently, biting gently until Carla gave a low moan and buried her fingers in Mara’s hair. Then she switched breasts and did it again, this time more hungrily, sucking with a wet sound, tugging the nipple with her teeth until it stretched. Carla arched her back and dug her nails into the nape of Mara’s neck. Under my blanket I could no longer hide the bulge I’d built up: I was hard as a post, pressing against my pants, and my breathing was speeding up against my will. I clenched my teeth to stay quiet and ran my hand over myself, only over the top, feeling the shape.

—Shhh —Camila cut in, her eyes fixed on the sofa where I was—. You’re going to wake him.

Camila, shut up yourself, I thought in desperation.

The two of them pulled apart and turned their heads toward my sister at the same time. Something lit up in their eyes.

—I want to see yours —Carla said.

—And I do too —Mara finished.

Camila tried to slip away. She started saying I was there, that I might wake up at any moment, that this wasn’t the place. The other two exchanged looks and flanked her without answering. Carla was the first to dare: she slipped her hand under Camila’s T-shirt with that slow motion that’s worse than haste, pushed the fabric up to her neck, and unclipped her bra with practiced tug. Mara copied her, kneeling beside the sofa. My sister didn’t stop them.

***

They pulled her T-shirt and bra down until her tits were exposed. Camila has the biggest tits of the three, white, heavy, with pale nipples that went hard as soon as the air touched them. Carla pressed her mouth to one; Mara to the other. They sucked with enthusiasm, with wet mouth sounds, biting her nipples and tugging them, flattening their tongues over them. Camila threw her head back and let out a low, hoarse moan unlike any I’d ever heard from her in my life. And that was it for me: I slid my hand under my pants, grabbed the cock already leaking at the tip, and started jerking off slowly, measuring every movement so the blanket wouldn’t give me away. My foreskin was pulled back and the glans was swollen, and just running my thumb over the head nearly made me cum right there.

I was overcome by a filthy thrill I couldn’t even classify. It was my sister, yes, but it was also the situation: the low light, the whispering, the friends, the sensation of seeing something that didn’t belong to me. I wanted to be complicit and disappear at the same time. I stayed still, hand firm on my dick, squeezing the base so I wouldn’t finish too soon.

—What lovely tits you have —Mara said, pulling back for a moment, her chin shining with saliva.

—I’m even wet —Carla added, and slid her hand between her legs over her pants, pressing her cunt with her palm.

My sister, already surrendered to the game, gave a low laugh.

—If they suck them well, they suck them well.

—Let’s make a round —Carla proposed—. Two of us suck the third, then we switch.

—Deal —the other two said almost at once.

They started with Mara. She took off her T-shirt and bra and reclined against the cushions, her small, firm tits and pink nipples pointing at the ceiling. Camila and Carla leaned over her, one on each side, without that shyness from the beginning. They licked, sucked, bit softly, ran their hands over her waist and belly, and Carla got bold enough to slip her hand under Mara’s pants and press her cunt over her panties. Mara spread her legs without thinking, closed her eyes, and buried a hand in my sister’s hair, pressing her against her tit until a long moan escaped her.

—She’s wet —Carla reported, pulling her hand out and showing the shiny fingers to Camila with a smile.

Camila grabbed her hand and, to my astonishment, sucked the fingers one by one, never taking her eyes off her. I nearly came right there. I loosened my grip on my cock, squeezed it by the base, and breathed deeply through my nose.

Then they went on to Carla. She, shamelessly, took off all her clothes on top and then her pants too, ending up in a black thong that outlined her pubic mound. She surrendered to the other two women’s double tongues with the smile of someone who’d imagined it a thousand times. She was, without a doubt, the boldest of the trio. She stroked Camila’s back while Mara bit one nipple, and with her other hand she ran her fingers over the top of her thong, pressing her cunt in front of everyone.

—Suck harder —she told Mara—. Bite them.

Mara obeyed. She caught the nipple between her teeth and tugged, stretching it, while Camila nibbled the other one. Carla gave a long gasp and slipped her fingers inside her thong without the slightest pretense, touching her clit while the two of them kept sucking her.

My sister’s turn was the last, and it was the hardest one to watch without forgetting to breathe. Carla and Mara pinned her between them. They took off her T-shirt completely, her bra already hanging loose, and pulled her pants down to her knees. Camila was left in white panties, tits out, skin covered in goosebumps. Mara ended up on top of her, kissing her mouth with tongue, while Carla, kneeling on the floor, ran her tongue over her navel and down to her pubic mound. She bit the elastic of Camila’s panties with her teeth and moved them just enough to let a lock of dark hair show. Camila kissed Mara back with an intensity that made me turn my face away a little more to hide it against the backrest, but without stopping looking through my lashes. For a moment, she seemed to have completely forgotten that she had a brother a meter and a half away, and I kept jerking off in silence, measuring the pulls so I wouldn’t cum too soon.

—We need a man —Carla said, wriggling free from the tangle, panting, with her thong pulled aside and her lips shining—. Now. I need a cock inside me right now.

Here I am, I thought. Here I am, take me. But I didn’t move.

Carla grabbed the phone and dialed. She spoke in a low voice for a few seconds, hung up, hurriedly straightened her clothes, and went out of the house walking toward the corner. Mara and Camila kept kissing on the long sofa as if nothing were happening, hands everywhere, no longer pretending at all. I saw Mara slide her hand into my sister’s panties and saw Camila spread her legs to let her in. I saw Mara’s wrist moving, short and insistent, and heard my sister moaning through clenched teeth, biting Mara’s mouth so she wouldn’t make noise.

***

Ten minutes later, the door opened again. Carla came in holding the hand of a tall, broad-shouldered guy with a full beard, a black jacket, and jeans. They were kissing in the doorway as if they’d been at it for a while already, and he already had one hand up under her skirt. He looked at Camila and Mara, tangled together on the sofa, half-naked, and froze for a second, with that expression of not quite understanding but wanting to understand immediately.

Carla took his hand, dragged him to the long sofa, and pushed him beside the girls. She sat on top of him astride and planted a long kiss on him while she took off his jacket and unbuckled his belt. She pulled his fly down and took out his cock right there, in front of everyone. It sprang in her hand, thick and veined, bigger than I’d expected, and Carla gave it a couple of shakes with her open palm, showing it to the other two like someone displaying a prize.

—Look what I brought us —she said.

Mara broke away from Camila, crawled along the sofa to them, and bent down without asking permission. She caught the tip with her mouth and went down in one motion, swallowing almost all of the dick, and the guy threw his head back with a hoarse gasp. Under my blanket, I grabbed myself harder and sped up. I was so hard it hurt. Carla didn’t let go of the base: she held his cock while Mara sucked him off, and every now and then she’d bend down too and they’d take turns on the tip. The guy gripped both their heads and guided them, pushing their necks down slowly.

Camila, who had stood still for a moment, came closer too. She positioned herself beside the other two, licked her lips, and grabbed his balls with one hand while Mara kept sucking the tip. The three of them were doing everything to him at once, and he let out dry, guttural moans, his eyes closed. I sank my teeth into my lower lip and moved my hand faster under the blanket.

After a while, the guy pulled Mara in, lifted her by the hair gently, and arranged her sideways on the sofa. He yanked off her pants and panties, opened her legs, got on top of her, and drove into her in one thrust, with no real preamble. Mara moaned, short at first, then longer, in that cadence of someone no longer worried about who might hear her. He was in her all the way, to the hilt, and with each thrust her small tits bounced against her chest. Carla moved in beside her, took one nipple in her mouth, and sucked it while the guy kept fucking her.

At some point my sister hesitated. She made the gesture of getting up, of moving to the other sofa, as if she’d only just realized what was happening. The guy, without stopping his thrusts into Mara, held out an arm and pulled her to him. Camila didn’t resist. She gave him her mouth, let herself be kissed with tongue while he kept moving inside the other woman, and within seconds she’d already pulled her panties down herself.

They positioned her on the adjacent sofa, on all fours, her white ass up and her tits hanging. He left Mara alone for a while, got behind my sister, and ran his cock along the slit of her cunt, up and down, soaking himself completely before pushing in. When he slid inside her, Camila let out a low cry, muffled against the cushion, and arched her back. I could see everything from my angle: I could see her ass jutting up, I could see her cunt lips stretched around the dick, I could see the skin moving with each thrust. I’d never in my life seen my sister like that, and I remember thinking, with my hand moving on its own, that I’d never be able to look at her the same way again.

Carla moved in front of Camila, opened the T-shirt that was still hanging off her, and sucked her tits while Camila touched her own clit with her other hand. Mara, kneeling beside them, bent down underneath and licked the guy’s pubis and balls each time he pulled out and went back in. It was a scene I don’t know how to describe without sounding cheap: the four bodies knotted together, the overlapping moans, the wet sound of skin slapping skin, the guy’s heavy breathing, my sister asking him through clenched teeth to give it to her harder. I saw every detail and for a second I thought I’d come too soon. I stopped, breathed, squeezed my cock at the base until it hurt, and started again slowly.

The guy shifted from one to another without pause. He’d drive three or four thrusts into Mara and come back to Camila; he’d sink his dick to the hilt into my sister and come out dripping to shove it back into Carla’s mouth, where she sucked it with her eyes closed, savoring the taste of the other two. Carla was the first to come: with her hand between her legs, biting Camila’s shoulder, she let out a long moan and stayed shaking for a few seconds against the backrest.

After a long while, the guy pulled away from the two of them, stood there for a moment with his cock upright and shining, breathing hard. My sister grabbed his arm and gave him a kiss she hadn’t been expecting to give, tongue and all, filthy. Then she pulled Mara along, gestured to the guy toward the stairs, and the three of them went up to the bedroom almost naked. Their footsteps faded in the upstairs hall and the door shut with a dry click. Almost immediately, the first muffled moans started coming through the ceiling, along with a rhythmic pounding of headboard against the wall.

***

Carla was left in the living room. And me.

I stayed motionless with my hand still under the blanket, my cock hard and slick with the spit from the whole time. I thought she’d get dressed and leave, that the show was over for me. But then I heard her stand up and walk slowly to the sofa where I was. I smelled her perfume before I felt her breath.

—I know you’re awake —she said, almost voiceless, very close to my ear—. It’s fine. Stay like that. I like it better if you keep pretending to sleep.

I squeezed my eyes shut even harder. I wasn’t going to open them for anything. I felt her lift the blanket from my feet and slide it aside just enough to uncover me from the waist down. I heard her laugh softly.

—I figured as much. And you’ve got a cock hard as a rock.

She pulled my pants down to my ankles with two tugs and left my cock out in the open, pointing at the ceiling, swollen, the glans shining. She took it in her hand, ran her thumb over the tip, and spread the drop that had been leaking from me all that time across the whole head. She gave it one shake, then another, measuring the thickness, and let out a low, approving moan.

—What a nice dick you’ve got, kid.

I didn’t have time to think much else. I felt her hair fall over my thigh and then her mouth. Warm, wet, patient. She started at the tip and went down with her tongue to the base, leaving a trail of saliva that etched itself into me like a mark. She licked my balls one by one, took them into her mouth, sucked the skin under the head with the tip of her tongue. Then she went back up and swallowed it whole, squeezing the base with her hand.

She sucked me with a technique that was no amateur job. She went down and up in rhythm, tightening her lips, leaving my dick completely wrapped in her warm mouth. She pulled off to run her tongue flat over the whole length, from balls to tip, and then took me back in with one motion to the very back, until I felt her throat tightening around my head. With her free hand she stroked my balls, squeezing them firmly without hurting, and with the other she held my base and shook me in time with her mouth.

I gripped the sofa back until my fingers hurt. I wanted to make noise and couldn’t. I wanted to stay silent and couldn’t quite manage that either: a moan slipped out between my teeth, and she answered by speeding up, as if I’d given her permission. She started sucking me faster, noisily, letting me hear each suction, each swallow of saliva, and she’d pull me out of her mouth only to spit on me and take me back in. It was humiliating and delicious at the same time. I thought of my sister upstairs on all fours, of the guy pounding her, of Mara getting wet, of Carla’s tits I’d seen hanging over Camila’s face, and all of it mixed into one electric current that raced up my back to the nape of my neck.

I felt myself coming and tried to warn her with a grunt, but she didn’t let go. On the contrary: she squeezed harder with her hand, took me down to the base, and let me spill into her mouth. I came without warning, in long spurts, shaking against the sofa with the blanket half fallen, biting down on my fist so I wouldn’t shout. Carla didn’t flinch. She stayed there, lips tight at the base, swallowing every spasm, until the very last one. Then she ran her tongue over her lips like someone cleaning off a little ice cream, licked her thumb, and put the blanket back over my legs with a strange, almost maternal care.

—Next time I’ll ride you —she said in a very low voice, almost against my ear—. I’ll take you inside me and make you finish in my cunt. That’s enough for today.

She got dressed in two movements and left. I heard the front door close and the street become the street again, as if nothing had happened in that living room.

I lay there a while longer with my eyes closed, my breathing broken, my cock still throbbing against my stomach, listening to the distant creaks from the room upstairs. I thought I should feel guilt, shame, horror. I felt none of that. What I felt most of all was the desire for the next get-together to come around and for me not to fall asleep so early again.

I smiled in the dark and, for the first time all week, fell asleep at once.