What Happened at the Wet T-Shirt Contest
She went up on the stage fully dressed while the others were already nearly naked, and I knew that night she was going to lose all her shame in front of everyone.
She went up on the stage fully dressed while the others were already nearly naked, and I knew that night she was going to lose all her shame in front of everyone.
She hiked up her dress, smiled at me, and started touching herself for the trucker driving alongside us. It was only the beginning of a trip I would never forget.
Our bedroom window faced his rooftop exactly. That night I realized the idea of being watched aroused me more than I’d ever admit.
You didn’t know us from Adam, but you spent the whole afternoon with your hand in your swimsuit, watching us play. And we knew it from the start.
I dialed her number when I figured he’d have her down by then. I wanted to hear her moan while another man paid for her, never knowing I was part of the plan.
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 went out to smoke in the dark and saw him: crouched behind the palm tree, eyes fixed on the window where she was undressing, unaware she was being watched by two.
We’d been drinking beer around the pool for hours. When I went into the house looking for ice, the moans were coming from inside—and they weren’t hers alone.
The beds squeaked in sync. If she moaned, my girlfriend got louder. It was a silent competition between four people separated by a few inches of drywall.
I went upstairs with a stranger and, when the door closed, I knew my neighbor was already posted behind the curtain, ready to watch every detail.
She was my best friend’s girlfriend, and she knew exactly what effect she had on me. Every skirt, every neckline was a message meant only for me.
The whole village closed its eyes. Rodrigo bored a pea-sized hole in the shutter and pressed his eye to it. He had to see her.
When he suggested we go to the bathroom together, I’d been waiting for him to say it for hours. Rome could wait. What came after couldn’t.