Desire

The steam erased faces and names. All that remained was the heat, his gaze fixed on mine, and the certainty that neither of us would stop.

I placed my hands on the cold wall, took a deep breath, and understood that on the other side someone was waiting for the invisible permission to start touching me.

We had a pact and one word to stop everything. But as she slept face down, I knew that morning I wasn’t going to say it.

We’d spent years brushing our hands against each other without saying a word. That night, in my dim living room, looks were no longer enough—and none of us wanted to pretend anymore.

I saw her among hundreds of people and knew I was going to look for her. What happened next, by the sea, was the most vivid dream I’ve ever had.

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.

He wound an antique watch and, by dawn, his body was no longer his own. A week of stolen pleasure with a price collected only 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 said goodbye. If we ordered wine, we stayed. I never imagined how far that glass she chose without hesitation would take us.

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

Tomás gave me a massage as a gift, but he didn’t tell me he’d be learning to give it alongside the masseuse. What happened in that room surpassed anything we’d fantasized about.

“I was expecting you today,” she said, and Tomás realized their chance reunion was anything but accidental.

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