SirenaFogosa

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.

Two years had passed. He came in holding his nephew’s hand, sat three tables from mine, and without saying a word started reminding me of everything we were.

She had spent eight comfortable, empty years of marriage when that man smiled at her between the aisles. She never imagined that smile would leave her without a husband, without a lover, and finally face to face with herself.

I wore my cowgirl hat with no intention of going home alone. I never imagined a stranger would suggest something I’d never dared to try.

He’s always so serious in front of everyone else. No one imagines that one look from him is enough to make me lower my gaze, approach, and kneel without being asked.

I asked for help getting to the restroom in that impossible suit. What she did after she closed the door behind us wasn’t in my contract.

I knew his eyes were fixed on my back as I undressed by the wardrobe. I left the bathroom door ajar on purpose: the invitation had been served.

Three friends, a dance floor, and one decision that changed the night. This is what happened when I stopped looking for Renata and found her exactly where I shouldn’t have been looking.

The bus was packed and I could barely move. When I felt the first touch on my thigh, I thought it was an accident. But it wasn’t.

She had a boyfriend. She said she was straight. And yet that afternoon at the hotel pool, her foot found mine under the water and I didn’t pull away.

At three in the morning, with the icy wind battering the tent, I slid under his blanket without asking. Mauri didn’t move, but I knew he wasn’t asleep.

Marcos arrived on time in his dark suit, smelling of expensive cologne. When I closed the apartment door, I knew we were both about to cross a line.

I put on the shortest skirt I owned and went to the garage to deliver an envelope. The owner wasn’t there. They sent me upstairs to his son’s office.

When she adjusted his posture for the third time and he felt the pressure under his shorts, he decided that morning’s session was going to be very different from the others.

I had been fantasizing about her for weeks, but the snowstorm and that couples’ motel finally broke down the barriers between us.

When I opened my eyes in that black marble suite, she was there, naked, looking at me like she’d known me forever. And maybe death was my best accident.

When the two of us knelt on the rug, it was no longer about the bet. That was the first time I knew what I wanted to do with my body.