Confessions

I had watched him for days from the terrace, pretending I wasn’t. That hot afternoon I decided to stop pretending and went down with a glass of lemonade in my hand.

It was six in the morning, I was still in my wedding dress, and my husband was snoring unconscious upstairs. The waiter hadn’t left yet, and I was no longer thinking about sleep.

She came home every dawn smelling of American tobacco and new perfume. I said nothing and kept my suspicions, until the night I decided to follow her and find out who she spent those hours with.

At forty-nine, I thought I’d seen it all—until that soaked stranger took off his shirt in my yard and I knew the afternoon wouldn’t end with gardening.

No one in the supermarket, the pharmacy, or the bakery imagined what I had hidden under my clothes. And that was exactly the part that excited me most.

You texted me “I’m hungry,” and I knew exactly what you wanted. We’re not a couple, not even my type, but there’s something between us no one would understand.

In the dark, a few meters from my building, his cock shone under the only streetlamp on the street. And I already knew I was going to lower my head again.

I never told anyone, but the moment he leaves, there’s a name and a body that take over my whole imagination.

When the four guys came into the apartment at five in the morning, I knew I was about to live through something I’ve never told anyone.

I was late to dinner, but not because of traffic. It was because of the detour we took to that vacant lot fifty meters from the restaurant.

It was after eleven, everyone was asleep, and the rain was falling hard. I thought I’d just go get wet in the patio for a while. I had no idea how far I was going to dare to go that night.

I put on the smallest bikini I had and went down to the garden just to see his face. I knew exactly what I was doing, and I wasn’t going to stop.

There was only one guy at the back, washing his hands. He looked at me in the mirror and, without saying a word, we both knew the wait was over.

I came out of the water shivering with cold and saw her adjusting her bikini in the sun. Neither of us knew that morning would change everything between us.

I took off my bikini in the jacuzzi knowing he was watching me from the roof. What I came to forget became the only thing I remember from the trip.

Renata always hid behind Camila and Marisol. That night, on the warm sand and far from home, she decided she didn’t want to watch from the shore anymore.

We had never gone beyond a polite greeting, but that soaked afternoon, trapped by the rain in his shop, everything changed with a single message on my phone.

I didn’t find him attractive, but feeling desired turned me on. When he climbed onto the stool to check the fan, I knew exactly how I’d repay him.

I opened his bedroom door expecting to find him asleep. What I saw brought back memories I thought were buried, and I couldn’t bring myself to turn away.

He came up behind my son with Bruno pressed against my back, holding my breath. I knew it was wrong, and that was exactly why I couldn’t stop.