Exhibitionism

The first afternoon, I still hadn’t unpacked, and I already knew no one there would take their eyes off us. And the worst part was this: I was starting to like it.

I knew he spied on me every afternoon from his balcony. What I didn’t know was how much I liked him doing it—or how far I was willing to go.

I’d gone weeks without going out and the fire was eating me alive. That night I put on the wig, opened my coat at the fence, and let the street decide for me.

The walls were paper-thin. We heard her moaning in the next room and realized she’d been listening to us the whole time, waiting for an invitation.

The first morning I found her in the kitchen almost naked, moving as if I didn’t exist. That’s when I understood her husband’s game had only just begun.

Uploading the video was only the beginning. That Saturday dawn I understood that watching was no longer enough: I wanted a stranger to touch me for real.

Marcos thought he was in charge of the game. His wife looked at me over her shoulder, let the towel fall, and I understood that she set the only rule.

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.

I’d spent years making sure no one looked at her too long. That afternoon, hidden among the tall weeds, I couldn’t stop looking myself.

I never thought being watched by complete strangers would turn me on so much. That night, behind glass, I discovered what I really liked.

I arrived at her place an hour before dinner and found her naked in front of the mirror, torn between two dresses and about to change everything.

He asked me to hold some tools while squatting down. I knew perfectly well what he was doing, and still I didn’t get up.

I cut the engine in the darkest corner of the service area, touched up my lips in the rearview mirror, and knew I wouldn’t be leaving alone that night.

We thought we were sneaking around in the sand, until a stranger came over and confessed he’d been watching us for hours. And he had a proposition.

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.

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.

I went up to that flat for a haircut. She opened the door with the promise that she’d stay in a thong in front of a complete stranger.

That night the dare was simple and insane at the same time: cross the property naked, on all fours, right past the window where anyone could see me.

She knew that every Thursday she hung the laundry at the same time. That morning I decided to step out wearing nothing at all, just to see her face. I didn’t expect her to smile like that.