Exhibitionism

When we crossed the door of that dimly lit club, I knew that night we would share something neither of us would ever forget.

Amid the smoke and the crowd’s screams, Soledad no longer knew where she ended and her daughter began. She only knew she didn’t want the night to end.

I only wanted to sleep off the booze. But when the door opened and the three of them came in, I decided to keep my eyes closed and see how far they’d dare go.

I went back to the chalet thinking it was all over, and found the pool full of bodies, cups on the ground, and the panther waiting for me in the water with a smile that said it all.

I’d been lying on the towel for hours, the sun sinking, and every time I thought it was over someone new knelt beside me with another idea in mind.

Four women, nine men, and a cabin with a pool. I got in the van knowing something was going to happen, but not that I’d give myself to all of them without thinking twice.

I left my phone at the entrance, set up my decks, and when night fell I understood why: half the garden was fucking without shame, and the hostess came straight for me.

I went down to the kitchen practically naked, with three strangers kneeling in my living room and my partner on the other side of the wall. What I didn’t know was that he was recording everything.

When the whole town was asleep for siesta, Camila stood in the middle of the empty street, bit her lip, and asked which of the five wanted her first.

I thought it would just be another photo shoot. I had no idea the three of them would end up touching me at once—or that I’d let myself go without thinking of my husband.

When he blindfolded me in the doorway, all I felt was a drop slowly running between my thighs and my heart about to burst out of my chest.

When she moved into the apartment across from mine, I never imagined that one afternoon, while her son slept, her hand would climb up my thigh and I’d spread my legs without thinking.

Before the camera, the sexologist promised a simple anatomy lesson. But when the host slid her hand under her thong, both women knew there was no going back.

It wasn’t sale season and the store was empty. The blonde saleswoman followed me into the fitting room with an excuse, and I left the curtain open on purpose.

I was only serving drinks. She was looking at me from the other side of the bar as if she already knew, before I did, how that night would end.

When she took off her blouse in front of the open window, I knew she wasn’t going to stop even if half the neighborhood was watching. And I didn’t want her to stop either.

She chose her clothes thinking of him, not her husband. That night she would stop being a faithful wife and become, for an entire weekend, another man’s woman.

Nadia knelt in front of the glass wall knowing the neighbors in the garden next door wouldn’t miss a thing. And that was only the first afternoon.

Bianca placed three thongs in the center of the table and announced that the prize for the game would be collected as dessert. None of us imagined where she meant to serve it.

I woke up naked beside a man who wasn’t my husband and, for the first time in years, I felt completely desired. He still wasn’t done with me.