First Time

The whole house silent, the keys still in my hand, and an idea crossing my mind as I looked at the fruit bowl on the kitchen table.

I’m naked on the rug, facing the mirror, still trembling from the last orgasm. And then I decide to play back what I just filmed of myself.

I had the house to myself, two toys in the drawer, and an idea that had been haunting me for weeks. That night I was finally going to dare.

In the school showers I always looked on the sly. That afternoon, on my way back from training, Mateo asked me the question I’d been waiting for for years.

My mind told me never to go back. My body remembered those lips and wouldn’t let me sleep. On the third day, I dialed his number.

Her mother saw us playing around in bed and, instead of yelling, smiled at me. That same night I understood that nothing in that house was innocent—and I didn’t want to be innocent either.

I thought it would be a quiet afternoon in front of the TV, until my stepsister’s bare foot started climbing my thigh and one question changed everything.

I had spent years practicing with my fingers and toys, but none of them prepared me for the first time I felt another man breathing on my neck and pushing in patiently.

The first time I saw him naked it was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to ignite a forbidden curiosity I no longer knew how to extinguish.

We’d been talking every day for a year. On that fifth night in Seville, playing on her phone while sitting on her couch, I touched her hand by accident. Neither of us had ever been with a woman.

When everyone else went to sleep, she came to the sofa, looked me straight in the eye, and said something I never expected to hear from a friend.

When I opened the door wearing the dress and my hair freshly done, he was left speechless. That night I stopped hiding and gave myself completely.

I built the pool for the family, not for this: so my son’s girlfriend would spy on me from the window while I pretended not to notice her trembling hands.

We bought the harness saying it was to practice so we could teach them. What we didn’t expect was to end up trembling against each other.

At ten, my mother understood who I was before I did. Twenty years later, I finally recognize the woman I’ve always been.

I reached the entrance not knowing if I’d have the courage to go up. My name is Esteban, I’m 48, and upstairs a couple I only knew by messages was waiting for me.

I slept in his bed when I was scared. The night I found him crying over me, I understood what I felt for my brother was beyond return.

The bathtub was ready, I closed my eyes, and when I opened them she was already naked in the doorway, offering me a massage that didn’t end at my shoulders.

We had been fleeing for four days when they caught us. My grandmother stripped naked in the mud and the night, and I knew that madness was our only way out alive.

I got off the train with one idea in my head, and when I crossed the door of his apartment I knew neither of us was going to pretend this was a family visit.