Fantasies

No man ever made me finish. I found that out late, after years of other people’s hands and faked orgasms: the only body that knew exactly what mine wanted was my own.

I promised myself I wouldn’t touch myself until I got home, but between work, the gym, and one way-too-hot stranger, my body had other plans.

I was bored, stressed, and horny when a lavender-haired girl popped into my private chat and asked if I wanted more than a simple game chat.

I asked her to put on the shortest shorts she owned. I wanted to see how the workers looked at her as she walked by, and how she endured the whole day in that outfit.

I turned off the TV when she went upstairs to bed, but the scene kept replaying in my head with my sister’s face instead of the actress’s.

I thought it would just be a few more photos in exchange for a few dollars. But when I got on all fours in front of the camera, I knew tonight the desire would be mine alone.

At four in the morning, alone in the bakery, he discovered that the divorce had awakened not his usual desires, but new ones, with a neighbor’s name.

I imagine a woman like me: same soft skin, same mouth. We caress each other slowly until there’s no turning back and I finally live out what I’ve dreamed of alone for so many nights.

When I opened the box and found the black lace and the feathered mask, I thought it was just one of Andrés’s whims. It would be months before I understood who had really chosen it.

I’d spent the whole morning imagining being caught. I didn’t expect it to be the professor I’d been thinking forbidden things about for months.

I went to the office with the plug in and stockings under my clothes, dreaming of what my wife would do when I got home. That night, onstage, everything changed.

There are mornings when I wake up wet, my nipples hard, with one fixed thought. Another of my heat weeks has begun and no one at home suspects what I’m hiding.

I accepted the dare without suspecting that the fifth photo would lead me to a deserted cove, facing a stranger stretched out under the last ray of sunlight.

She reread the message four times, and her heart beat like it had when she was twenty. She was fifty-nine, and a stranger had just awakened something she thought was lost forever.

I touched up my makeup, smiled, and went back to the kitchen with a plan none of them could imagine. That night, I chose the menu.

At ten sharp I walk into the boardroom and, while the boss talks numbers, my head goes to a place where she and I don’t obey any rules.

She sits two chairs to my left and, while the family talks, my head already has her astride my lap. No one knows. Not even her. Not yet.

He only wanted a decent shirt. But then she looked up from behind the counter, and Andrés’s head started inventing what would never happen.

I’d kept that desire locked away for years. That dawn, drunk and defenseless, I let it slip in front of the one person who could make it real.

I thought she was telling me those stories to make me jealous. It took me a while to understand that what was turning me on was something far darker and harder to admit.