Cheating

She kept the card for weeks, telling herself she would never go. One Friday afternoon, for reasons she couldn’t explain, she put on her best dress and walked through that door.

I crossed the hotel door knowing that night I would stop being me. Three strangers were waiting with a poured drink and no intention of handling me gently.

My husband slept through the afternoon while I walked the sand searching for the three men I’d been imagining for two days. I wasn’t coming back without them.

The phone rang after midnight. It was her, but she didn’t say a word: she just turned the camera so I could see, in the dim light of that car, what she was doing.

I dressed in my plainest clothes so I wouldn’t give anything away. What I didn’t count on was that I wouldn’t be alone in that apartment—and that I was still the same girl as before.

At forty-five, after eight years without touching a man, Inés thought she’d seen it all. Until her two most prudish friends arrived in tears with the truth.

I went down to the garden ready to call the police. I never imagined I’d end up on my knees, yielding to the three strangers hiding in the guest house.

I’d been married and bored for years when those four guys surrounded me on the dance floor. None of them guessed that, under the costume, I was more than ready to play along.

My husband didn’t even look at me when I left in that tight skirt that night. He didn’t know I was going to a hotel to watch, from an armchair, what I’d wanted for years.

I only wanted to sleep off the booze. But when the door opened and the three of them came in, I decided to keep my eyes closed and see how far they’d dare go.

I thought it would just be another photo shoot. I had no idea the three of them would end up touching me at once—or that I’d let myself go without thinking of my husband.

I’d known her since we were children: sweet, quiet, the perfect wife. Until I walked into that club in the city and saw her stretched out on the table, surrounded by men.

She told her husband she’d sleep at a friend’s house. In reality, she was naked in the bed of a truck, listening to the line forming outside.

I met her on the excursions, exotic and self-assured. I never imagined that one comment from her by the pool would end with me naked in my husband’s room.

I hadn’t felt anything for months. Then she came in behind me in the stall, locked the door, and everything I thought I knew about myself came crashing down.

I had spent ten years resigned to the lukewarm sex of my marriage. Then Lorena locked the shower door from inside and kissed me without asking.

She had been with her boyfriend for five years and had never doubted. Until that black-eyed woman stared at her on the platform and something broke inside.

I followed her on social media to get revenge on my ex, but ended up wanting her instead. Months later I saw her in the crowd and knew I wouldn't let her go.

The bridegroom’s sister waited for me every night, but the real surprise came when my friend asked me for a favor neither of us would ever forget.

She slipped into the black dress, kissed me, and said “don’t wait up.” I knew exactly who she was spending the night with, and that was precisely what turned me on.