Chapter 2

The concept of time and place no longer existed for us. We fucked anywhere, anytime. At first we tried to keep our games when there was no one at home or when our parents were sleeping, so they would be low risk, but it wasn’t enough for us. Our first time when our parents were home awake was a Sunday. They were both in the backyard barbecuing. We took the opportunity to go in and fuck like crazy as quickly as possible before anyone noticed our long absence. It was quick but fun. Of course, all our fucks were fun, but it was a different kind of fun. It was fun because we had to be quick so no one would notice, moan softly, not make too much noise.

The taboo factor was starting to get even bigger. We didn’t care about anything else anymore.

We were consumed by our desire, our hunger for each other. It was like a drug, a high that we couldn’t get enough of. We were addicts, and each other was our fix.

One evening, as I was helping Mom prepare dinner, I felt Beto’s eyes on me. I turned to look at him, standing in the doorway, his gaze intense. I could feel the heat radiating from him, the desire that was always simmering just beneath the surface. I bit my lip, trying to suppress a smile.

“What are you two cooking up?” Mom asked, breaking the spell.

Beto blinked, tearing his gaze away from me to look at her. “Uh, nothing, Mom. Just admiring Lorena’s culinary skills,” he said, flashing her a charming smile. I rolled my eyes, turning back to the stove. “Yeah, well, don’t admire too much. You’re supposed to be setting the table,” I retorted, trying to keep my voice steady despite the butterflies in my stomach.

As Beto walked past me to grab the plates, he leaned in, his breath hot on my ear. “Later,” he whispered, sending a shiver down my spine.

I nodded, unable to trust my voice. Throughout dinner, I could feel Beto’s leg pressed against mine under the table, his foot occasionally brushing against mine. It was a struggle to focus on the conversation, my mind constantly drifting to what would happen later.

After dinner, we helped Mom clean up, our hands brushing against each other as we dried the dishes. Each accidental touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, making it harder to maintain my composure. Finally, with the kitchen spotless, Mom excused herself to watch her favorite TV show, leaving Beto and me alone.

The tension between us was palpable, the air thick with anticipation. Without a word, we both headed upstairs, our footsteps echoing in sync on the creaky stairs.

Once in the second floor, Beto didn’t waste any time. He pushed me against the closed door, his mouth crashing onto mine in a hungry, desperate kiss. I moaned, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands roamed my body, tracing the curves he had come to know so well.

“Beto,” I gasped, breaking the kiss to catch my breath. “Not here.

Mom’s downstairs,” I reminded him, my voice barely above a whisper. Beto nodded, his eyes dark with desire. “Your room, then.” I shook my head, a mischievous grin spreading across my face. “Not my room either. Too risky.”

Beto raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So, what do you propose, sis?”

I leaned in, my lips brushing against his ear as I whispered, “The attic.

It’s dusty, but it’s empty. We can be as loud as we want.”

Beto’s eyes widened in surprise, but the desire in them never wavered. “You’re serious,” he stated, more than asked.

I nodded, biting my lower lip. “Deadly. But we have to be careful. If Mom finds out...”

Beto placed a finger on my lips, silencing me. “She won’t. Now, lead the way.”

I took his hand, pulling him towards the narrow staircase leading to the attic.

The wooden steps creaked under our weight, the sound echoing in the silent house. I could feel Beto’s heart pounding against my back as we climbed, his breath hot on my neck. I pushed open the attic door, revealing the dimly lit space filled with forgotten memories and dusty relics.

Beto looked around, taking in the old furniture, the yellowed photographs, and the cobwebs hanging from the rafters. “Cozy,” he commented, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

I laughed, pulling him further inside.

“It’s not the Ritz, but it’s private. And that’s what matters, right?”

Beto nodded, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Right.”

I turned to face him, my hands finding their way to his chest. “So, where were we?” I asked, my voice low and sultry.

Beto grinned, his hands gripping my hips. “I believe we were here,” he said, leaning down to capture my lips in a searing kiss. I moaned, my body pressing against his, feeling the hardness already growing in his pants.

We fucked like two animals, being careful not to make too much noise but sometimes breaking this rule. But at that point breaking rules was already commonplace, the rules we initially agreed on no longer made sense, we still kept it a secret, but the amount of times I could feel my little brother’s hot sperm inside my uterus were countless. Doing it safe was no longer our plan, it was practical, tasty, and quick. No time for paper or buying condoms every time we went to do it. My mouth and vagina became a semen pit as we began our sexual journey, especially my vagina. My mother was starting to get bothered by her credit card bill, I spent at least 50 dollars a week just on Morning-After Pills. She thought at the time that it had something to do with my boyfriend, that i was taking revenge on him by getting with as many guys as possible. Such a fool. It was almost a shame, while she was talking about how important it was for me not to catch some disease from so many guys, I was fucking her adorable little son, and sometimes even in his presence. I was starting to enjoy it the way it was, we fucked daily, casually and quickly, our relationship couldn’t be better but my brother ... he was going in another direction. He really thought we were building something, something beyond our sweats and our panting breaths.

I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through me at the thought of him caring for me, for us. I was falling for him, and I hated myself for it.

One afternoon, as I was coming out of the shower, I found Beto sitting on my bed, his head in his hands. He looked up as I entered, his eyes red and puffy. “What’s wrong?” I asked, concern etched on my face. He looked at me, his expression a mix of sadness and frustration. “I can’t keep doing this, Lorena.

Not like this,” Beto said, his voice heavy with emotion. I froze, a towel wrapped around me, my hair dripping water onto the carpet. “What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Beto stood up, pacing the room like a caged animal. “This ... this thing between us. It’s not just ... casual for me anymore. I can’t keep pretending it is.” I felt a chill run down my spine, a mixture of fear and excitement stirring in my gut. “Beto, we talked about this.

We agreed—” I started, but he cut me off, his voice firm.

“I know what we agreed, Lorena. But things change. Feelings change. I can’t just turn mine off like a switch.”

I sighed, sitting down on the bed beside him. “And what do you suggest we do, Beto? We can’t just ... be together. Not like that.”

He turned to face me, his dark eyes filled with determination. “Why not? Why can’t we give this a real shot? See where it goes?”

I shook my head, my heart pounding in my chest.

“You’re my little brother, Beto” I said bravely, trying to hide the turmoil inside me. “People will talk. Mom will freak out. It’s just ... it’s just not right.”

Beto reached out, taking my hand in his. His thumb traced circles on my palm, sending shivers up my arm.

“Lorena, I don’t care about people or Mom. All I care about is you. Us. What we have is real, and it’s worth fighting for.”

I looked down at our entwined hands, his skin contrasting with my pale fingers. I wanted to believe him, I did.

I of course had feelings for him, but probably not in the way he was saying.

“Beto, you’re not my man, I hope you understand that beyond words, you’re not someone I can feel romantically attracted to.” I said as I tried to hide my feelings stirring frantically inside me.

“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression that this was something more than it is.”

Beto’s grip on my hand tightened, his eyes searching mine. “It is more, Lorena. I can’t keep living like this, sneaking around, hiding what we have. I want to be with you, openly, honestly.”

I sighed, pulling my hand away from his. “Beto, you’re talking about something that’s impossible. We’re step-siblings. People would look at us differently.

Mom would disown us. It’s just ... it’s just not feasible, Beto,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I could see the hurt in his eyes, but I also saw the resolve. He wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

“Lorena, I’ve loved you since I was old enough to understand what love is. I can’t just turn that off. And I think you feel the same way, deep down. You just won’t admit it to yourself,” Beto said, his voice steady and sure.

“Can’t we at least try?” Beto asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Try what, Beto?” I sigh, running a hand through my damp hair. “To be together. To see if this could work.” He looks at me, his dark eyes filled with hope and desperation. I can see the sincerity in his gaze, and it scares me. Because I know I’m not immune to his charm, to the connection we share. But I also know the reality of our situation, the consequences of acting on these feelings. “Beto, it’s not that simple,” I say, my voice gentle yet firm. “We’re siblings.

Half-siblings, yes, but still. It’s not right, Beto. “ I know it’s not conventional, Lorena. But who cares about convention when it comes to love?” Beto argued, his voice passionate. “Love?” I echoed, my heart skipping a beat. “Yes, love. I love you, Lorena. And I think you love me too, even if you’re scared to admit it.” I looked into his earnest eyes, seeing the truth reflected back at me. I did have feelings for him, stronger than I cared to acknowledge. But love? That was a whole other level. “Beto, I...

I don’t know what to say,” I stammered, my mind racing. “You don’t have to say anything, Lorena. Just think about it. Think about us. About what we could be,” Beto said, his voice soft yet insistent. I nodded, my eyes cast downwards, unable to meet his gaze. “I’ll think about it,” I promised, my voice barely above a whisper. Beto smiled, a small, hopeful smile that tugged at my heartstrings. “That’s all I ask.”

“But you know, we could go somewhere together.” Beto said

, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Like where?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Somewhere far away from here.” I stared at him, taken aback. “Beto, are you suggesting we run away together?” I ask him worried about what he might already be thinking in his mind.

“No Lorena, I’m talking about, you know ... something like a date.” I blinked, surprised. “A date? Like, a proper date?” Beto nodded, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Yeah. You know, dinner, maybe a movie. Something normal couples do.” I felt a flutter in my stomach at the thought. It sounded nice, too nice. Too dangerous. “Beto, we’re not a normal couple,” I reminded him gently. “We can’t just go out in public like that.” Beto’s smile faded, but only slightly. “We could if we were careful. We could go to a city nearby, where no one knows us. Besides, we’ll just be two siblings hanging out together, right? What’s wrong with that?” Beto asked, his eyes searching mine. I sighed, looking away. “Nothing, I guess. complicated.” Beto reached out, tilting my chin so I’d look at him. “Isn’t everything worth having complicated, Lorena?” he asked, his voice soft yet insistent. I couldn’t argue with that. Everything about us was complicated - our relationship, our feelings, our situation. But wasn’t that part of what made it exciting? Part of what drew me to him? I took a deep breath, considering his proposal.

A date. With Beto. In public. It was risky, but the thrill of it sent a shiver down my spine.

“Alright,” I heard myself say, surprising even myself. “But we have to be careful. Really careful.”

Beto’s face lit up, his eyes shining with excitement. “I promise, Lorena. I won’t do anything to jeopardize this. Or us.”

I believed him. I believed in us. Despite the complications, despite the risks, I wanted this. I wanted him.

I was starting to feel something for him beyond what I had felt before, not as a man, as a husband, but as a super-little-brother. An improved and bigger version of the brother relationship that we normally see, something like shameless friends. Friendship with benefits? No, we are bigger than that, we are siblings.

“What about a movie?” I said at him, “I haven’t seen one in ages, and I miss it.” Beto looked at me, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yeah, that sounds great! There’s a new theater opened in the next town. We could go there.” I nodded, smiling. “Okay, but we need to be careful. We should go separately and meet there.” Beto’s face fell a little, but he nodded in agreement. “We can’t risk anyone recognizing us together.” I felt a pang of guilt at the disappointment in his voice, but I knew we had to be cautious.

On the agreed day, we went. He left the house before me and told our mother that he was going to spend some time at a friend’s house. I left a few minutes after him and told my mother that I was going to a party at a friend’s house.

That way, no one would suspect anything. That situation was not unusual for our parents. I took a taxi and then went to the cinema in the nearby city that Beto had mentioned.

I was smelling nice, I was dressed nicely, I had done my hair the best I could. I wanted to please my little brother.

I wanted him to see me as more than just his sister, more than just a fuck buddy. I wanted him to see me as a woman he could take out, a woman he could be proud to be seen with. So, I put extra effort into my appearance that day. I wore a simple yet elegant black dress that hugged my curves in all the right places. I left my long blonde hair cascading down my back in loose waves, and I painted my dark eyes with a smoky shadow that made them look even more mysterious.

I slipped on a pair of black heels that added a few inches to my height, making me feel confident and sexy.

As I approached the cinema, I spotted Beto waiting outside, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. He was wearing a crisp white shirt that brought out the darkness of his eyes, and his dark hair was styled messily, giving him a rugged, handsome look. He looked up as I approached, his eyes widening in appreciation as he took in my appearance.

“Wow, Lorena,” he breathed, a slow smile spreading across his face. “You look...

amazing,” Beto finished, his voice barely above a whisper. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his compliment, my heart fluttering in my chest. “Thank you,” I replied, smiling back at him. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” Beto chuckled, running a hand through his hair. He placed a hand on the small of my back, guiding me towards the entrance. I tensed at the contact, but relaxed as we stepped into the cool, dimly lit lobby.

The familiar smell of popcorn and candy greeted us, and I felt a sense of normalcy wash over me. For a moment, we were just two people on a date, not step-siblings sneaking out to be together.

Beto bought our tickets and some snacks, his hand brushing against mine as he passed me my soda. I felt a spark at the innocent touch, a reminder of the electricity that always seemed to crackle between us. We made our way to the theater, finding our seats near the back.

The lights dimmed, and the previews began to play. I could feel Beto’s thigh pressed against mine, his arm resting casually along the back of my seat. I tried to focus on the screen, but my mind was elsewhere, my senses heightened by his proximity.

Suddenly, Beto leaned in, his breath hot on my ear. “You know, I’ve never done this before,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.