Ximena87

We’d worked together for months, texting until dawn. But that night, for the first time, she knocked on my door with a bag in her hand.

She was 37, had a stunning body, and nearly a year of loneliness built up inside her. When she chose me at the gym, I knew some nights aren’t planned.

Rodrigo went pale and pulled the phone away. I knew exactly what had happened before he even opened his mouth to explain.

The first time I went to his place alone, my heart was pounding when I rang the bell. I didn’t know what to say. He opened the door in a wet robe and smiled.

I’d wanted to do it for a long time: pick up a man in a public place and take him to bed. That afternoon in the café, I finally dared.

When Sofía walked through the door of my apartment, she didn’t know exactly what was waiting for her. Her mother had planned everything weeks in advance.

I’d only gone to say hello, but Matías couldn’t take his eyes off me. When his father left, the boy proved he had more initiative than he appeared to.

I needed diapers for my daughter and didn’t have a peso. When the American offered me money, I told myself it would be just once. I had no idea what would come next.

When I opened my eyes that morning, I wasn’t in my room. I was completely naked in a bed that smelled like someone I should never have spent the night with.

When he showed up at my door thinking he was coming to help me, I already had everything planned. He was twenty and as naive as someone who doesn’t know what’s waiting for him.

I crossed the park with my pulse racing, knowing that tonight the bully wouldn't settle for my panties—or the money I no longer had.

Five thirty. The dark hallway. I went to wake her, and what I heard behind that door left me breathless for fifteen minutes.

Ernesto hadn’t looked at me like that in years. Then the neighbors moved in, and one dinner lit something we thought had been asleep forever.

The door opened in the middle of the storm and the woman looked us over before making her offer. It was direct: five hundred for everything, paid in advance.

I was warned she was bitter, that she hated men. What no one said is that behind that armor she’d gone years without anyone truly touching her.

When I went downstairs to the kitchen it was three in the morning. He was sitting there with a cup in his hand, bare-chested, looking at me as if he’d been waiting for me.