Deceit

I went down to the lobby wearing my jersey and came back up with a man who intended to fuck me in front of my husband.

I’d had three whiskeys and no reason to go home when the amber-eyed redhead asked me to insure her night.

I went to confront my ex’s mistress and ended up staring at her body for far too long, imagining everything I shouldn’t have wanted.

When my boyfriend showed me the woman he’d cheated with, I was already too wet to pretend I wanted to leave.

I was only going to look and satisfy my curiosity, but when I saw his cock, I knew I wouldn't be going home the same man.

When Diego lowered his gaze and nodded for the second time, I knew the business dinner was over and the real transaction was about to begin.

She went down to take out the garbage in a sheer nightgown with no bra and took ten minutes to return. When I heard her in the shower, I knew something had broken forever.

She came in while I was still hurting from the blows, sat on my lap, and made it clear she hadn’t come to congratulate me.

During the week I needed another cock, and that Saturday I turned a fight with my husband into the perfect excuse to fulfill my dirtiest fantasy.

When she came home with tousled hair and a smile that wasn’t meant for me, I knew our kitchen pact had passed the point of no return.

She led me from the porch to the bathroom without letting go of my hand, locked the door, and looked at me in the mirror as if she already knew how it would end.

When he answered the video call from his office, I was already naked in the hotel—and had another man waiting off-camera.

I invited him to our table to help my husband, but when he closed the door, I knew I had let the enemy into our bed.

I entered the room convinced it would be a quick fuck for revenge. I left at dawn without remembering my own name.

I opened her phone to confirm a suspicion and ended up seeing something that left me frozen: my wife with two men from my own family.

After two years without touching her, I had her beside me on the plane, trembling, asking my forgiveness and looking at me as if I were still her man.

I went into the garage in the tightest dress I owned, with no panties underneath, determined to make that son of a bitch return every last peso he’d stolen from my husband.

The message arrived at noon: that night I had to take my wife to the hotel and wait in the adjoining room, facing a switched-on screen.

When I entered the bar and saw him at the back table with no Camila between us, I knew the beer was an excuse—and I’d end up with his mouth on mine.

I thought we were going to have dinner and talk, but my neighbor took me somewhere everyone seemed to know her—and I ended up crossing a line.