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  • Rape
  • Pilar Quintana (bio)
    Translated by Joel Streicker

With the woman he could barely get an erection that would allow him to penetrate her. That’s when true martyrdom would begin because he could never get aroused enough to come. Hours and hours of battering that body of abundant and loose flesh howling beneath him. If the darkness was absolute and he touched her as little as possible he could imagine that the woman was the girl. Then he would come right away.

The girl gave him proper erections. All it took was seeing her get out of the shower wrapped in her little white towel or strolling through the living room in her pajamas with the short pants and tank top.

He had lived with them since the girl was seven years old. Now she was thirteen and she called him Dad. Her breasts were starting to sprout. But she hadn’t had her period yet. If she had, the woman would have told him about it. Besides, the only sanitary napkins that appeared in the bathroom wastebasket were the ones that the woman threw away when she had her period. He was dying to know whether she had pubic hair; her armpits were clean. Each time the girl raised her arms to reach an object in the cabinet he stopped to examine her.

That morning they called the woman to inform her that an uncle had died. It wasn’t a good idea to take the girl to a ceremony so sad and long, but she couldn’t be left home alone either. She was a child. The most sensible thing was for him to stay home and take care of her.

When she arrived from school, the girl found that her mother had gone to an uncle’s wake. She felt that she should cry, yet she barely knew the uncle and not a single tear came. She ate the snack that he prepared for her. She did her homework while he washed the dishes. Then night came and bath time. She came out wrapped in her little white towel and he followed her with his gaze. She found the pajamas with the short pants and tank top on her bed. She put them on and returned to the living room. He smiled and invited her to watch television on the big bed.

As soon as the girl fell asleep, he turned off the television and began to [End Page 105] masturbate. The girl was next to him, face down. With his free hand he began to caress her back. Then he lowered his hand to her buttocks and from there it wasn’t long before it arrived at her crotch. The girl moved and he took advantage of this to turn her over. He took off her short pants. The darkness was absolute; by touch he realized that she did not have any pubic hair. This aroused him greatly and he parted her legs. With one hand he masturbated and with the other he touched her. Her clitoris had swollen, she was wet; the girl remained still, but she couldn’t possibly still be sleeping. Then he moved his member to her pubis. He wasn’t thinking of penetrating her, he just wanted to rub it until he came. As he did so the girl’s breathing became agitated; she was definitely awake and she wasn’t refusing. So he lied to himself, saying he was only going to put the tip in. When he did, the girl let loose a moan. It seemed to him that it was from pleasure, and he could no longer contain himself. He sank it in all the way.

The girl moaned and he moved rhythmically, slowly, so as not to harm her. When he was about to come, he still had the presence of mind to ask himself whether he should come inside or outside her. He remembered that the girl still hadn’t had her period and he came inside her. Then everything was calm.

The next morning, between the two of them, they took the sheets off the big bed and carried them to the washing machine...


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pp. 105-106
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