Desire

We were alone in the mountains, or so I thought, until I felt eyes on us from the cabin next door and I didn’t want them to stop.

Since Tomás’s death, I embraced my lust without restraint, but the package wrapped in black velvet that arrived that night hid something my fantasies never imagined.

I’d spent three weeks swallowing dust and loneliness when the driver looked at me fixedly, without smiling, and said: “Come, my house.” It wasn’t an invitation: it was an order, and I followed him.

That night she would perform the ritual for the first time: naked, bound to the stallion, with a veteran warrior ready to wrench from her the pleasure that belonged to the goddess.

They wound an antique watch, and by dawn his body was no longer his. A week of stolen pleasure with a price that only gets collected on the last night.

When I walked into the café and recognized him, I knew that photo session wouldn’t stay just a photo session. His gaze had already undressed me before I said a word.

I left the sheer babydoll hanging where he’d see it, planned every move, and waited to see how far the guy in 4B would dare go.

It was two in the morning, we were alone on the 25th floor, and her back was stiff. What started as a favor ended up becoming something else.

He only had to come too close for the heat we had denied for months to give us both away. That night there was no way to keep pretending.

That witching night, he wasn’t expecting company. But something cold materialized at the foot of his bed and whispered his name as if it knew all death.

If we ordered beer, we’d say goodbye. If we ordered wine, we’d stay. I never imagined where that glass she chose without hesitation would take us.

We went into the shower just to wash off the day’s fatigue. We came out with a very different idea in mind and a challenge neither of us planned to lose.

Tomás gave me a massage, but he didn’t tell me he’d learn to do it alongside the masseuse. What happened in that room went beyond anything we had fantasized about.

“I knew you’d come today,” she said, and then he understood that this chance reunion was anything but chance.

Confessing how many partners we’d each had was only the beginning. What she proposed that night, with my taste still in her mouth, was unlike anything we’d ever discussed before.

I sent him a photo of a little box and four words: “tonight I’ll play with you.” I didn’t know the new toy wasn’t for me, but for him.

I went upstairs to lock myself away, thinking no one had seen me. I had my fingers between my legs and my eyes closed when I felt the door give way slowly behind me.

They humiliated him every day at school until an unmarked bottle promised him strength. What he took that night turned him into someone unrecognizable.

I never told my partner. But when I close my eyes, I’m not the one who decides: someone comes in, holds me down, and my body stops obeying me.

No one knew why I always parked on the same deserted stretch. That afternoon, a runner turned his head toward my window and realized everything.