Anal

She knocked on my door in desperation: her husband had been arrested. I agreed to go, but on one condition, and she was in no position to refuse anything.

I got off the train with one idea in my head, and when I crossed the door of his apartment I knew neither of us was going to pretend this was a family visit.

The key had been warming my pocket since the night before. I knew she’d be awake, waiting for me, with her robe open and the coffee pot on the heat.

When the apartment was empty, I’d open my mother’s drawer and become someone else. That afternoon, a shadow in the window changed everything.

I still felt the echo of the night before between my legs when I entered their room. My daughter slept like an angel and all I could think about was doing it again.

I shaved myself smooth, slipped into my black thong, and painted my lips red. He’d arrive in an hour, and I was already trembling before I’d even seen him.

I never thought a late-night talk with my grandmother, half-finished drinks, and the TV on in the background would uncover what happened every Saturday in the other house in town.

I was tied on my back, legs spread, with no idea what she would pull next from the black bag she'd left on the hotel bed.

It was three in the morning when I heard the key in the lock. I hid behind the curtain, never imagining what my mother would let them do a meter away from me.

He came to my room to confront me about what happened on Saturday, but what he confessed afterward left me breathless: he had seen everything, and he liked it.

He crossed the city with nothing but his desire. When the door opened, he knew that man wasn’t going to ask permission for anything that happened.

Baltasar smelled the tension the moment the boy asked for a ride. He wasn’t looking for conversation: he wanted the same thing Baltasar did, and they both knew it without a word.

No one imagined that an empty vodka bottle spinning on a living-room rug would be enough to erase every line separating three couples.

My sex life had become predictable, so that night I texted my fuck buddy a proposal neither of us could have imagined where it would lead.

I asked for the phone and started recording. I wanted them to remember that night every time they looked at the screen, far more than their wedding video.

I drove two hours to a stone house in the middle of nowhere. I didn’t know that night I’d stop being just a guest and become their fantasy.

I arrived as a colleague’s guest, without an invitation of my own. Three hours later, I was locked in the penthouse with two porn stars and no intention of leaving.

Yesterday I slept with my ex-wife, and it was by far the sanest thing I did all week. What happened the other four days is not something I should be telling you, but here I am.

There were no waves, no breeze, no reason to move from the towel. Until she sat up, looked at both of them, and said what neither dared to say out loud.

Iván rented the house by the sea to surprise Marina. What he didn’t tell her is that that night his best-kept secret would sit down on the sofa between them.