The Weekend I Seduced My Uncle’s Wife
When she took her feet in her hands and started massaging them, she knew that night, with enough wine, her uncle’s wife would end up surrendering to her.
When she took her feet in her hands and started massaging them, she knew that night, with enough wine, her uncle’s wife would end up surrendering to her.
The club closed at two and none of us wanted to go home. We booked a jacuzzi room, got two more bottles, and threw out an idea that changed everything.
I never told her I liked women, or that she kept me up at night. But that midnight, alone by the pool, I was the one who dared to say what I felt.
She had trained for five years and never competed. On that last afternoon, when her coach straddled her, she knew it wasn’t nerves making her shake.
When she told me the total and I counted my bills, I knew I was four thousand short. I leaned on the counter and whispered a proposition in her ear.
I went downstairs wearing the dress Mom had worn on her last vacation. When my father lifted his eyes, I knew something in him had broken forever.
When Sofía opened that closet box, I knew the night wouldn’t end like the others. And yet I didn’t move.
I pressed my ear to my sisters’ closed door and understood, too late, that in my family no rule was discussed: only obeyed.
When I opened the door wrapped in a towel, she came in without letting me speak. She wasn’t the guy my friend was expecting, or the plan my head had imagined.
I got off the plane not knowing that trip would end with his hand gripping my waist in the sand, and me wishing morning would never come.
Two weeks had passed since the defeat, and she still couldn’t figure out how a skinny, provocative rival had brought her to her knees. Her sister did want to find out.
I fell asleep in my underwear thinking how fun the party had been. Renata got under the sheets, and her hand didn’t seek my waist: it sought something else.
She stood in front of her bedroom door, holding her breath. One step more and reason would have burned away between us.
I ordered a whiskey to forget the day and got served a pair of green eyes with my drink. Forty minutes later, the barmaid’s fingers covered my eyes from behind.
I arrived at the square expecting a polite coffee with the woman who taught me to read poems at seventeen. What happened next wasn’t in any book.
I reached down without thinking, phone in the other hand and her photo filling the screen. I’d never wanted a woman like that before, and she didn’t even know I existed.
Rodrigo kept watching me every time I crossed the living room. I’d known for months, and that afternoon I decided it was time to collect a debt.
I was cleaning the offices in the hallway when I found her alone, with an open neckline and a tense neck. I offered her a massage. Neither of us thought we’d go that far.
His parents had an open marriage and a reputation for being perverts. When he asked for help with his final project, he never imagined they’d make him part of the script.
She arrived at my apartment with her cheek still bruised. That same night she stepped into the bathroom wrapped in a towel and dropped it when she saw me.