Anal

It started as a solitary game at midnight. By the time I was done, I had discovered something about my own pleasure I could no longer pretend not to know.

When she shut the door, she told me I wasn’t enough of a man. I never imagined that same night I’d stop being one forever—and that it would be the best thing that ever happened to me.

She had red hair, painted lips, and a body that stopped traffic. What I didn’t imagine was what I’d find when I slipped my hand under her dress.

When I came out of the bathroom with the plug still inside me and my body shaved smooth, I knew that entire day belonged to her and her rules.

When I bent down to put the box away in the storeroom, Adela turned slowly and let me see the white lace under her blouse. That night I knew the route had changed forever.

He left the door open for me. All I had to do was arrive, dress up as Valeria, and forget forever the boy I no longer wanted to be.

The drawer was jammed by a handwritten notebook. Inside were the most intimate pages of a stranger and his eight-year lover.

I ordered a piña colada at the beach bar, and the waiter brought it with a smile. By the second day, I knew his service went far beyond the bar.

That night they shot me up with the first hormones and made me throw out all my men’s clothes. “You’ll see how pretty you get,” she said, smiling.

The first client asked me for something that wasn’t in my contract. When I went back to the room, Salvador was breathing like he’d been awake for hours.

I stopped in the hallway with my hand in the air. The sighs coming from my sister’s room wouldn’t let me knock or turn back.

I thought the bathroom would be empty. Carolina was standing at the mirror, and her gaze wasn’t surprised: it was the gaze of someone who knew exactly what I had just done.

Marina left the phone book open to the letter C. I was only going to talk about my bedroom problem, but that first appointment didn’t end as anyone would have imagined.

The taxi arrived at two-thirty. I climbed four flights with two bags in my hands and the certainty that there was no turning back.

Every first Tuesday of the month he rang the bell with the water drum on his shoulder. I greeted him each time wearing less and less, hoping he’d stay longer than necessary.

The theater was almost empty. My husband got up for the drinks and, before leaving, had pulled up my skirt and sweater just enough for his friend to be unable to look away.

I got to her place an hour before my girlfriend. My mother-in-law opened the door in a short robe, a poured whiskey, and a smile that was anything but innocent.

I shaved everything, wore stockings and garters in secret. I never imagined a company conference would end with me giving myself to another man.

Tied to her sofa, in a princess dress and with my face made up, I heard someone knock at the door. And I understood that night I would stop being only hers.