When I was Eighteen, I lived with my family in Columbia.
We lived in a small town on the outskirts of Medellín.
My brother Rolando and I shared a bedroom.
A brother and sister sharing a room was common at the time. Everyone in my town was poor. And in poverty, everyone shared everything. If anything my family was well off, in that the parents and the kids had separate rooms.
Rolando and I would share this tiny room. We each had our own tiny beds. My bed was on the left and I always rolled over on my left side sleeping, and Rolando’s bed was on the right and he always rolled onto his right side.
Such that, out of comfort, we always faced one another as we fell asleep.
Rolando always slept in just a pair of shorts.
The heat of Columbia was always repressive.
I usually just slept in shorts and an oversized cotton tee.
When my brother was 19 he started having bad sleep paralysis.
Every morning at about 5 or 6, he would awake and be unable to move, so he told the family:
“It feels like I am being watched, like the Grim Reaper himself is standing over me, and if I move a muscle he will cut me down with his Scythe,” Rolando explained to the family.
No one but me took Rolando’s fear seriously.
I started waking up early in the morning to observe Rolando and his sleep paralysis.
I looked over at his bed and could not see any discernible difference from normal sleep.
Rolando was on his back, breathing heavily, asleep.
Or at least that’s how he looked to me.
Rolando later told me that day that he was in a state of unbearable paralysis, unable to move a muscle, and tormented by the fear of somehow accidentally moving.
The next night I observed Rolando again.
And again he was one his back, breathing heavily, asleep– from what I could tell.
The only difference is that his blanket had fallen on the floor.
I noticed that Rolando was completely erect through his white bed shorts.
I couldn’t help but notice, his shorts were comically tented up, straight in the air.
Like a native teepee.
It was funny, but I knew my Brother was stricken with fear.
I went over to Rolando’s bed and laid next to him on his bed.
I wrapped my arms around him and tried to comfort him in his nightmarish anguish.
I grabbed Rolando’s blanket from the floor and covered us.
Like I said, Rolando’s bed was tiny, but I was a tiny girl. I stopped growing at 5′ 2″, and I have always been a tiny string bean of a Colombian.
I snuggled up with Rolando and fell back asleep.
Rolando woke up with me in his bed. He told me how he was still paralyzed, but it no longer felt like he was being watched– like death was standing above his bed.
From then on I would wake up early in the morning and move over to Rolando’s bed and comfort him in his paralysis.
Rolando was always erect when paralized.
At first I thought Rolando’s tenting was amusing.
But I was an eighteen year old curious virgin.
On the fourth or fifth night I transitioned to Rolando’s early morning bed, curiosity got the better of me.
I unbuttoned the front of Rolando’s night shorts and let his sex naturally slide through the gap of his shorts.
Rolando was large, tan, circumcised, and pretty.
It was the first male organ I had ever seen. I didn’t know what to think. I just thought it was pretty and fascinating and wanted to observe it.
The first night upon seeing Rolando, I was too afraid to touch him.
I was nervous. But I also felt a deep burning– a deep hunger.
A thing awoke in me that I could not explain.
I can’t even explain it now, but I will try:
Upon seeing Rolando for the first time a deep obsession was burned into my brain. Like a track of destiny was seared into me. The universe felt different.
So like that, every morning I would saunter over to Rolando’s bed and unsheath him from his shorts.
I remember one morning I was in this weird state of lethargy, as I unsheathed paralized Rolando and observed him.
My hand, on its own accord, wrapped itself around Rolando’s sex.
I did not notice my hand move, but I found it with my eyes wrapped around his tan largeness.
Shivers shot through me and penetrated all the way to my soul.My inevitable hunger was set aflame.
I didn’t know what to do.
It was as if curiosity had already pushed me past a threshold, and the inevitability of the Three Fates controlled me.
I was just a strand being sown by some unknown mover.
My hand felt natural around Rolando’s member. Like they were two component parts that were separated upon birth.
My heart beat like crazy. I just held Rolando like this, it was too much.
My body acted with its own volition. My eyes were shut.
Somehow my pants were off and I was on top of Rolando, guiding his large pretty sex to my own.
I was out of my body. No one was home. It was all pure instinct. I could not think: my body just did.
Rolando slid inside my virginity and I felt the pressure of my soul expand.
Another perfect fit.
I felt whole. I felt complete. I did not feel mad, but I felt a calm wind sweep through my soul.
It was meant to be.
My body slid amateurishly against Rolando.
My erect nipples poked through my oversized cotton nightshirt, chafing.
My soul was in too deep an ecstasy to quit.
The feeling of lethargy and calmness fought with a sense of dirtiness and disorder and shame.
How could a feeling so pure and perfect bring so much shame!
It was pure perfection in madness!
I rubbed myself against Rolando as he began to spill and pour into me.
Again, a biological imperative in me broke. A wall that could never be recovered.
I humped Rolando and extracted his seed. My body needed it.
Rolando finished and I rolled off of him and immediately fell asleep.
Morning came and Rolando had no recollection of what happened. I had only the faintest outline of the misdoings of my body. Yet my Soul felt clean. It felt from a different world and not of the day time.
This is how the habit of having sex with my brother everyday in the early mornings began.
I could not help it. Like I said, it was a passion and hunger not of this world.
Every morning I tip toed to my brothers bed, exposed him, and humped his sex into my own to completion. I could not help it. It was inevitable.
Every morning, without fail, a magnetism grabbed me by my sex, and brought it to Rolando. A hand of fate grabbed me by the pussy. It could not be stopped. It could not be controlled.
I had to hump Rolando, and let him spill his seed inside of me.
And so I did.
The nightmares of Rolando subsided:
“I have been rescued by an angel. I still suffer from paralysis, but it is no longer the spell of a Demon haunting me, but an Angel watching guard.”
He explained to the family.