Anal

At forty-nine I thought I’d seen it all, until that soaked stranger took off his shirt in my patio and I knew the afternoon wouldn’t end with gardening.

No one at the bank, pharmacy, or bakery imagined what I was hiding beneath my clothes. And that was precisely what excited me most.

We crossed that threshold knowing that, once we did, we would no longer have any will of our own until Monday. Neither of us wanted to turn back.

When I opened the door, I expected to find her alone on the sofa, as always. I hadn’t counted on the second silhouette watching me from the shadows.

I crossed his garden every afternoon to help with the vines, but we both knew I was really there for the way that huge man looked at me.

When the breeze raised gooseflesh on her skin, she knew that full-moon night wouldn’t end on the shore. And she didn’t want it to.

Every morning I spied on him from the window without admitting it. That rainy afternoon he showed up at my door soaked, and I knew there was no way to keep pretending nothing was happening.

That night, while I was correcting his exercises in the hotel room, I felt his gaze fixed on me and knew I could no longer be just his teacher.

We had never gone beyond a polite greeting, but that soaked afternoon, trapped by the rain in his shop, everything changed with a single message on my phone.

I barely knew him, but when that stranger grabbed me in front of everyone, the driver set down his drink at the bar and walked over with a calm that was scarier than any shout.

He got two smiles out of me in one week, and I gave him my number. That afternoon, in his building’s stairwell, I taught him what an experienced woman can do.

When she handed me her card and told me to bring an appetite, I knew she wasn’t looking for conversation—she wanted someone who could keep up until dawn.

Ten years after their last goodbye, he watched her over his coffee and knew exactly how he would help her—and what he would demand in return.

They had warned her that there would be no mercy on the second day. What Diana did not know was how far the two women in the white room were prepared to take her.

Bruno thought he had control over everything: his girlfriend, his lover, and his pride between his legs. He had no idea that night would cost him all three.

I knew the rules: one hour, no agreed limits, four men against me. What I didn’t know was how much I’d enjoy losing control in their hands.

We’d gone a month without daring anything more, until she picked another domination film and asked me, with that smile, if I wanted to do it for real.

I hadn’t heard from her in months. Her call was an order, not an invitation: that night I would stop being a person and become her property.

Every time I’m alone in the house, I repeat the same ritual. And every time, it gets harder to tell the game from what I truly long to be.

Ámbar had accepted the master’s rules: no pleasure until they returned from the trip. What he didn’t know was which of the two women would have the last word.