Exhibitionism

I told her to bring the most outrageous outfits she had. I wanted to parade her through the city and, back at the hotel, lose myself between her feet for hours.

At one in the morning she slipped off her heels to provoke, as always. She had no idea that night someone would turn her whim into an order.

I turned my back to the camera, moved my hips slowly, and waited. I only wanted a stranger to tell me what to do with my own body.

We counted to three and took off our swimsuits in front of everyone. What I didn’t know was that she’d kept a key on her necklace for the rest of the day.

I thought I was going to spend a quiet afternoon at Renata’s villa. I never imagined I’d end up holding my breath while she ordered Ximena around.

She boarded the bus barefoot, sneakers in hand, and at the back a stranger couldn’t tear his eyes from her bare feet on the seat.

He decided when I undressed, when he tied me up, and in front of whom. I only had to obey—and I learned obedience turned me on more than I ever admitted.

For years I exposed myself in the window while no one mattered, until the night I crossed the street barefoot to kneel before the only man who dared to truly look at me.

Each step made the hidden metal beneath her skirt ring out. Vera had learned to live wet, on the edge, waiting for the next needle he would drive into her flesh.

I was half-naked in the car of a man I didn’t know, in a crowded parking garage, and he told me to relax because my checkup was only just beginning.

She’d been in all afternoon when she walked in. I knelt to fit her with a heel, and with her bare foot in my hands, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop.

We spent weeks looking for an audience on Telegram with no luck. That night, in a dark pine grove, someone parked beside us and kept watching what my girlfriend wanted me to do to her.

I go naked at home because nobody can see me. Or so I thought, until the neighbor across the way greeted me with a smile that already knew everything about me.

No one would imagine those giant, ridiculous sneakers were keeping my secrets. That night on the road, with everyone asleep, I finally dared to do what I’d been fantasizing about.

No one in the office imagined what my boots were hiding that rainy morning, or why I wouldn’t take them off all day.

I chose the spot closest to the water, dropped my bikini, and before lying down, searched for the one who hadn’t been able to take his eyes off me.

No one dared move, but she knew that one gesture from her would be enough to make the whole beach hold its breath and the circle cease to be only sand.

Neither said it out loud, but both knew it: every gesture under the sun was a challenge, an invitation no one on the beach could ignore that afternoon.

Two gleaming bodies, a circle of men watching, and one unanswered question: would they fight for attention or split it like accomplices?

No one dared move, until she lifted the bottle of oil toward the strangers and, without saying a word, invited them into the game.