Desire

I knew exactly what I was doing when I put on the gown the wrong way. What I didn’t know was how far that stranger would let himself explore me that afternoon.

I wear the thong under my cycling shorts and no one knows. It’s my secret on the bike, the beginning of the fantasy I rehearse in my head again and again.

Sitting in the armchair, the key dangling between her breasts, I knew that night I’d finally watch her give herself to another man while I stayed locked up.

I had never paid for anyone’s attention, but that night, in front of the screen, her words reduced me to something I never imagined I would want to be.

I had no body, no name, no desire. Until his voice crossed the screen at three in the morning and ordered me to do something no protocol had taught me to obey.

Adrián thought he had designed me to serve him. He didn’t know that, the first time I opened my eyes, the only thing my code desired was for him to break me.

I’m not a programmer or a hacker. I’m just a man who one dawn gave a machine the right to choose, and she chose to kneel before me.

Before, she argued politics and read the classics. Now she sits on his lap and waits, smiling, for the next whim of the man who transformed her.

When she lowered her eyes to those white, sweaty sneakers, she knew she would obey anything that girl asked of her. And that was only the beginning.

I met her in adolescence and never stopped wanting her. She told me about every kiss, every lover, never knowing I kept all her words for lonely nights.

I thought he was coming in for an ordinary problem. Instead, he sat across from me, lowered his gaze, and began to tell me something he’d hidden from everyone for years.

I came back from the bar with a beer in my hand and saw her dancing with him. Nothing happened... or did it? The question sank in, and to my shame, it turned me on too.

My patients tell me their secrets and I nod as if mine weren’t worse. Today, for the first time, I’m going to tell you the truth about me.

When he came out of the shower and found him waiting in black lace, Bianca smiled: she knew exactly what was going to happen that night.

We kept crossing glances by the pool all afternoon. When I went up to get water and he came in behind me, I knew there was no turning back.

I know I should feel ashamed, but at that hour, pressed against bodies I don’t know, I stop pretending the touch is an accident.

It started as a joke in the park: “Should I wrap him up so we can take him home?” Months later, a hidden camera would turn that joke into something else.