Anal

For months, he had stared at the dark corner of his bedroom. The wrong doll they sent him was the closest thing to companionship he’d had in years.

We’d been going out together for years without anything ever happening. That night at the club something changed: his body pressed to mine on the dance floor, and neither of us tried to stop it.

That afternoon I decided I was going to fuck him somehow, even if I had to dress for him and come on to him without a shred of subtlety. What happened next left me shaking.

I saw her on all fours over the dry grass, with the fluffy tail swaying between her cheeks, and I knew that Sunday afternoon was going to be unlike any other.

When Valeria put her hand on the back of my neck and pushed me down, I understood that night would cross a line with no way back.

The night Camila said she’d never done any of that, we all smiled. A few hours later, she was the one asking for more.

I was eighteen, and my body wanted more than it could give. That night I walked into the living room in a nightgown and told my father exactly what I needed.

I saw him at the coast café at midday. That night he was at the club door with his security badge, and I knew I wasn’t leaving without trying him.

My friends never understood why I spent three months in a dead village. I never told them the truth: my grandfather was waiting for me with more than dinner.

What that SUV carried after that trip could never be itemized on an upholstery bill. But someone would have to pay for it, and it wasn’t going to be him.

When she whispered in bed what she wanted for her birthday, I knew that night would change everything. The private casino was only the beginning.

I closed my eyes beneath the blindfold and my father’s voice built every detail. I wasn’t in my room anymore: I was with Rodrigo, and he was doing exactly what I’d dreamed.

I’d seen him on the app half an hour earlier: fifty-something, active, with a photo that promised. By midnight I was in his elevator and there was no turning back.

I’d spent seven days waiting for him. When he got off the plane, my body was screaming something he still didn’t know: I was on my period, and that night I didn’t care at all.

We were in her room with wine when she burst out laughing. “I never told you everything about Búzios.” I knew what was coming would shake me.

When I walked into the empty club room that afternoon, I already knew we weren’t going to talk about books. What I didn’t know was how long I’d been waiting for this—or how completely I’d lose myself.

When his message lit up my phone, I’d been burning with desire for hours. I dressed in lingerie, slipped on heels, and waited. That night, I wasn’t sleeping alone.

I’d spent a full week counting the hours. When I saw him come through the airport doors, I knew that night wouldn’t be like any other.

I crossed the dark hallway expecting to give him a hug and ended up pressed to the crack of his bedroom door, watching what two mature women had arranged.

She took another sip of wine, looked at me with that smile that means a confession is coming, and started telling me what really happened that night in the rented house.