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 around like crazy, and an uncle nobody had invited who just showed up. It was tradition. The girls crashed in my room, sprawled out on mattresses and pillows, while the boys flopped down in the living room, the hallway, wherever a body could fit.
In the room, the air felt heavier with every thump of the funk blasting from the speakers. My older cousin came out of the shower, her towel way too small to cover what shouldn't be on display. Carla was 18, her body already shaped by stories she loved to share. They said she fucked every guy on the block. She 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 couldn't even name yet. Mariana, next to me, kept swapping looks with me, 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, yanked the towel as a joke. The fabric dropped light to the floor, but the weight of it 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 timed to break me down.
"Look at mommy's big pussy!"
She said it dancing and laughing, no fear of showing off.
That's when she bent lower, faking a squat, and my heart slammed. 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 it out, laughing loud, her eyes roaming the scene, just as hooked as me.
The other girls were dancing too, bodies loose in the moves, loose shirts riding up and down, flashing tits that slipped free without a bra holding them back. I tried to blend 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 throb between my legs, while the funk beats 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 head, 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 when Carla got up and slipped 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 went looking for her through the house.
Our house was basic, with a big backyard that made it feel larger than it was. Downstairs, Carla wasn't there. The boys took up 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's quiet.
"Oh God... is she fucking her boyfriend in my house?"
I thought it, heart pounding, heat flooding my body.
I crept closer, bare feet on the cold floor. I hid at the gate's 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 yanked down to mid-thigh, everything on display. He held her open with one hand, the other keeping his shorts down. His cock slammed 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 slaps, while Carla ground a little, matching his thrust. Her face was turned to the side, eyes squeezed shut, mouth biting her own fingers to stifle the moans. She panted, her whole body jolting with each pound. He smacked her hard, and the washer creaked under her, begging for mercy. But he didn't stop, like a beast, and she loved it. I stood there, still as stone, 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, filthy, and still impossible to look away.
And that's when shit hit the fan. He spotted me first, before I even realized what I was doing.
"Hey, girl! What the hell are you doing there?"
His voice was deep and pissed, slicing the night's silence.
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, legs going weak. I knew I was wrong. Watching 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 toward them, head down, voice cracking.
"I just... just..."
The words stuck in my throat.
"Why the fuck were you watching us?"
She asked, voice mixing anger and outrage.
I couldn't answer. But the worst part was him. The bastard didn't put his cock away. He just stood there, that hard thing in his hand, stroking it slow, eyes locked on me, full of a slyness 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.