Anal

I’d been drafting the ad in my head for months; it took me twelve minutes to write it, and half an hour later I already had seven replies. His was the fifth.

Under that loose, demure clothing, you could sense a woman with her desire intact. I only had to wait for her to stop pretending in front of her husband.

I came out of the shower soft and soapy, not suspecting that that afternoon a muscular stranger would turn the three of us into his obedient servants, ready for anything.

I locked the door and turned off the lights in the study room. All I wanted that afternoon was to comfort her; all she wanted was to forget her boyfriend.

When she gave me the keys to her apartment and left for work, I already knew that night we were going to debut much more than the bottle of wine I had packed in my suitcase.

I never told him about my tastes. A WhatsApp notification on his sofa was enough to change everything between us that night at his house.

I dress like a man, but beneath my pants I wear lace. That morning, in the last subway car, someone noticed and couldn’t take his eyes off me.

When I turned to wash my hands, I saw him in the mirror: tall, gray-haired, with his zipper open and his gaze locked on mine. My night was just beginning.

I’d known him since high school as the toughest macho in class. Last night he saw me transformed into someone else, and the next day his message left no room for doubt.

I had my fuchsia dress in my backpack and one idea in my head: that night, I was going to belong to whoever paid for me.

When she walked into the office with those hips, I knew the appointment wouldn’t be routine. What I didn’t imagine was how far her exam would go.

After a decade of bad sex with men, I met Renata, her drawer full of toys, and a finger where no one had gotten before.

I recognized him the moment he turned around. He was going to be my gym teacher, and at the first touch of his hands on my back, I knew that day wasn’t ending there.

When I looked at myself in the hotel mirror, mascara running and marks on my neck, I knew no lie would be enough when I got home.

We’re identical, she repeated as she painted her lips. And it was almost true: only one detail separated the twins, and it was the one Carla had never confessed to her boyfriend.

When I looked up from my phone and saw him walking toward my bench, I knew that afternoon in Zona T would not end with a simple chat under the palm trees.

Her skirt was torn, her lips swollen, and she smelled of a man who wasn’t me. The worst part wasn’t seeing her like that—it was what she ordered me to do next.

The message came from an unknown number: triple pay to keep him company on Christmas Eve. I put on the red dress, the impossible heels, and crossed the city not knowing what waited for me.

I accepted the date out of curiosity: to be the object my boss lends his friends. But what his partner wanted from me that night, I never could have imagined.

My mouth and body were ready, my heart pounding in my chest. All that was left was for him to walk through the door and look at me the way I needed him to.