Fantasy

On the last night before becoming mortal, she curled up between her two divine mothers, knowing that at dawn she would have to bury everything she was under layers of plain cloth.

She descended from the plane of pleasure into a Ruzafa apartment, and when the street’s desire brushed her skin, she knew no loose clothing could contain her.

I promised myself I wouldn’t give up until I made it happen. What I didn’t know was how long my body would take to give me what I’d been begging it for all night.

I lay down naked thinking I only wanted to sleep. Three hours later, I was still discovering how much pleasure I could give myself.

I lowered the blinds, turned off my phone, and for once I stopped thinking about what was right. I just followed what my body had wanted for weeks.

I turned on the vibrator, opened a bingo game, and promised myself one rule for every ball. What happened next took me weeks to tell anyone.

It started as a solitary game at midnight. By the time I was done, I had discovered something about my own pleasure I could no longer pretend not to know.

I waited for the house to go silent so I could turn off the light, open the drawer, and find out how far I could go on my own.

I was nineteen and had never dared explore myself. That afternoon, with the house silent, I decided to imitate what I saw on the screen.

That morning there was no one at home to hear me. Only the mirror, my heels, and the voice of a man living inside my head.

I adore the nap when I’m alone at home. Today the chill of the storm raised my skin, and without realizing it, all I could think about was the way you’d look at me.

It’s raining, no one’s home, and the show I put on to fall asleep turns into something else. Then I remember where I keep my red toy.

She thought about him all day. Now, under the sheets and with rain tapping at the glass, her hand begins to explore what her imagination had already promised.

I stepped into the shower to wash away the day’s exhaustion and ended up sitting on the floor, the stream between my legs, whispering your name.

I had been walking for half an hour when the heat between my legs stopped being a thought and became urgency. The concrete wall was cold; I was burning.

He doesn’t know that when he closes his chat window, I turn off the light and let my hands do what his hands could never do to me from so far away.

The rain was hitting the window and the house was silent. I had the whole afternoon to myself, and for the first time I decided to stop imagining it and feel it for real.

I never thought something as stupid as a comb could leave me trembling, alone in my room, biting my lip so I wouldn’t scream.

There was no one home, no plans, and no excuse. Just me, the sofa facing the window, and the dangerous idea of leaving everything on display.

I closed my eyes to imagine a stranger, but when I opened them I found half the site watching me from the scaffolding. And I didn’t want to stop.