First Time

When she hung up the phone, I knew I’d be at her place the next day. Her husband was away. And my daughter would never look at me the same way again.

I got there at seven in the evening to look after her. At midnight I carried her to bed. At dawn I passed her half-open door and knew my life had just changed.

I’d never done it with anyone. And the first person who entered me wasn’t my boyfriend, but his father, one afternoon when the house was empty and I couldn’t say no.

He came out of the shower with the towel at his waist, as always that afternoon. But that neighbor’s look wasn’t the usual one, and he knew it before he even opened his mouth.

She knocked on my door at midnight with red eyes and a broken voice. I didn’t expect the last night of the trip to end with my student in my bed.

We’d spent months fucking under the rule that he was straight. That night, with my plan on hold, he looked at me in silence and I knew something was about to break.

When I stepped through the curtain marked “only studs,” I had no idea I’d end up holding a cock while its owner got fucked in front of me.

Her hand slid up my thigh and beneath my underwear. I expected to find what I had imagined so many times, but what I touched left me breathless.

I touched it for only a moment, and the softness of the lace awakened something dormant. That night I dreamed of wearing it, and knew I would return for it sooner or later.

I’d always fantasized about being with another woman, but I’d never done it. That night, in her apartment, she put her hands on my hips and I knew we weren’t going to sleep.

The first time barely hurt; this time I climbed on top and set the pace, determined to show him everything I had learned to feel.

Every Sunday, when she left, I opened her wardrobe and became someone else in front of the mirror. That afternoon she forgot her keys and came back early.

She showed up in my rest room at three in the morning, married and dangerous, and I knew that night was going to wreck my whole life, one look after another.

I’d never looked at another woman that way until she pressed against my back during squats and I stopped counting the reps.

My husband gave me a spa massage for our seventh anniversary. What he never imagined was that another woman would teach me how much I still had to discover.

I walked into the locker room without thinking and walked out trembling, looking at naked women as I had never looked at anyone in my life.

In the mirror I stopped being Sebastián. I put on her stockings, her skirt, her perfume, and became the woman nobody knew I carried inside.

I grew up between prayers and prohibitions, convinced that pleasure was sin. Until the woman next door sat beside me on the bus and everything began to change.

When she walked into the gym, I knew I recognized her—but from where? An hour later, she was naked with me in the shower, and my life was about to split in two.

He knew me when I was a shy boy. Years later I opened the door to him dressed and made up, and in his eyes I saw there was nothing left of the friend he thought he knew.