Chapter 4

The plan was simple: at night, in the room, just the two of us. But like always, everything went wrong. The house turned into a messy campground, people scattered everywhere. By the end of the day, it was chaos: nine teenagers, four kids, my mom running back and forth, and an uncle nobody had invited who just showed up. It was tradition. The girls stayed in my room, sprawled out on mattresses and pillows, while the boys crashed in the living room, the hallway, wherever a body could fit.

In the room, the air felt heavier with every beat of the funk blasting from the speakers. My older cousin came out of the shower, her towel too small to cover what shouldn’t be on display. Carla was 18, her body already shaped by stories she made a point of telling. They said she fucked every guy on the block. She herself swore that at the funk parties, two or three guys in a night was nothing. We’d laugh, doubt the numbers, but never the fact that she did it.

She started dancing. Her grind was something I’d never seen, her waist like it had no bones. Every move hit hard, stirring things in me I didn’t even know how to name yet. Mariana, next to me, kept exchanging glances, and I could tell she didn’t know where to look either. The towel wasn’t doing much more than covering what was already out there.

I got impulsive and yanked the towel off as a joke. The fabric hit the floor light as a feather, but the weight of the move lit everything up. Carla didn’t stop. Now naked, she turned her back, her hips moving with insane precision. Her ass filled my view, every curve, every sway synced up to disarm me.

“Look at mommy’s big pussy!”

She said it dancing and laughing, no fear of showing off.

That’s when she bent lower, fake-squatting, and my heart raced. Her ass looked even bigger in that position, heart-shaped and firm. I could see her tight brown asshole and everything. The pink between her legs was clear as day to me, along with her clit. Her big and small lips spread open, like an invitation. Heat rushed through my body while Mariana, desperate, squeezed my hand hard.

“Our family is full of perverts,”

Mariana let out, laughing loud, her eyes roaming the scene, just as hooked as me.

The other girls were dancing too, bodies free in the moves, loose shirts riding up and down, flashing tits that slipped out without a bra to hold them back. I tried to get into the rhythm, but I stayed sitting, watching the show in my own room. I wanted to bolt to the bathroom, lock myself in, get some relief, but I knew nobody would leave me alone long enough. And there I was, on the bedroom floor, trying to ignore the throbbing between my legs while the funk and Mariana’s laughs drowned out any shot at control.

Hours later, with the lights out, we settled in to sleep. The night seemed calm, but sleep wouldn’t come. I was stuck in my thoughts, caught between Mariana’s touch and Carla’s dance. Her boyfriend was downstairs with the boys. I never knew his name, and maybe it didn’t matter. I saw Carla get up and slip out the bedroom door. I figured she was headed to the bathroom. I dozed off for a few minutes, but when I woke up, she still wasn’t back. Curiosity started gnawing at me. I got up slow, trying not to wake anyone, and followed her through the house.

Our house was simple, with a big backyard that made it feel larger than it was. Downstairs, Carla wasn’t there. The boys were hogging the living room, laughing and playing video games, while others whispered in the kitchen, hunched over the table. She wasn’t with them. Only two spots left: the pool or the laundry hallway, hidden behind an old gate on the side of the house. Something pulled me that way, an unease I couldn’t explain, but it grew with every step.

When I got close, I heard muffled voices, whispers mixing with a kind of low whimper. Then the sharp smack of slaps cutting through the night silence.

“Oh God… is she fucking her boyfriend in my house?”

I thought, heart pounding, heat rising through my body.

I crept closer, bare feet on the cold floor. I hid at the gate corner, peeking through the bars. What I saw froze me, breath caught, body pulsing. Carla was bent over, ass up, tits smashed against my mom’s washing machine. Her panties were pulled down to mid-thigh, everything on display. He held her with one hand, spreading her, while the other kept his shorts hanging. His cock slid in and out of her nonstop, hard and steady, like he wanted to bury it to her soul. From there, I saw it all. The head disappeared and popped back, glistening, making wet sounds, while Carla ground a little, matching his rhythm. Her face was turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut, mouth biting her own fingers in a useless try to muffle the moans. She panted, her whole body reacting to every thrust. He pounded hard, and the washing machine creaked under her, almost begging for a break. But he didn’t stop, like an animal, and she loved it. I stood there, stock-still, feeling the heat drip between my legs. My heart hammered so loud I thought they’d hear it, but I couldn’t move. It was crude, dirty, and still impossible to look away.

And that’s when shit hit the fan. He saw me first, before I even realized what I was doing.

“Hey, girl! What the hell you doing there, huh?”

His voice was deep and pissed, slicing through the night quiet.

Carla let out a yelp, jumping in place, and in a second yanked her panties back up, covering what she could.

“Julia, get over here now!”

She ordered, voice sharp as a knife.

“If you run, I’ll kick your ass!”

I froze. Fear took over, my legs went weak. I knew I was wrong. Seeing that was wrong. And if my mom found out, I was dead. Worse: if Carla told… it was over. I didn’t care about her, she already had a slut rep in the family.

“S-sorry, cousin!”

I whimpered, dragging my feet over to them, head down, voice cracking.

“I just… just…”

The words stuck in my throat.

“Why the fuck were you watching us, huh?”

She asked, voice mixing anger and outrage.

I couldn’t answer. But the worst was him. The bastard didn’t put his dick away. It stayed out, hard in his hand, him stroking it slow, eyes locked on me, full of a meanness that pinned me in place. It was almost a threat, but I couldn’t look away. And I’ll tell you everything that happened next.