ZorraDescarada

When Marcos told me about the man who bathed naked by the riverbank, I couldn’t get him out of my head. That night I went to see for myself.

He was the boss’s son: proper, shy, well-mannered. I never imagined what he did on Friday nights when he disappeared.

Until that night, I thought I already knew all my limits. One look, one gesture from him, and everything I thought I knew about my desire silently came crashing down.

I never thought getting waxed would change anything. But when he ran the wax over my buttocks and told me to get on all fours, something in me lit up.

I’d spent days with that fantasy spinning in my head. When Héctor showed up at the empty court, I knew the night would end differently.

Monday morning. Adrián’s suitcase disappeared through the door and, before the coffee was even done, we already knew that week was going to be different.

Marina was already dripping when she demanded the second round: both men at once, with no barriers, while the action movie still played in the background.

We’d been eyeing each other at the gym for weeks without saying a word. When we finally talked, we both knew exactly where it was headed.

I arrived at the hotel alone and told myself that week would be different. I had no idea the woman at the bar would teach me things I'd never felt before.

It started like any other night in front of the screen, but when I hit send on that message, I knew there was no turning back.

She’d been dimmed for years by a deep pain, until that grave voice filled the room and I saw her eyes shine again like when I first met her.

We had gone to that apartment telling ourselves we were just going to have a drink. By the time the poker deck came out, it was already too late to be honest with myself.

The message said: “How about sharing you with a couple?” I laughed. But something in those words sparked a curiosity I didn’t know I had.

Under the shower, her fingers finished what he had started in that room. And she knew three days would not be enough.

When I saw her name on the screen, I knew what was coming. Her husband would work a double shift, the girls would be with her friend, and she’d be available all day.

He asked what the other men had been like. What he didn’t expect was that every answer brought him closer to the edge—and me too.

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.

The kids were sleeping just ten feet away. I couldn’t make a sound. But when his hands slid under my pajamas, I knew we weren’t sleeping anytime soon.

I recognized her at the top of the hill. Seven years had passed, and she looked at me like she knew I’d be there that Saturday. What happened after that should never have happened.