First Time

When I was left alone with Marcos, the lifelong neighbor, something shifted between us. He came closer slowly and kissed me without asking permission or forgiveness.

Daniela slipped a condom into my pocket before she left. I knew I was a virgin, and Marco was too. That afternoon was going to change all that.

I had never done it. Never let anyone in there before. That afternoon in the booths, a stranger with hand cream changed everything.

We slept badly that entire week. We knew what awaited us on Saturday, and that certainty turned every night into an anticipation of something neither of us dared name aloud.

The first time I saw her, her husband was in the next room. The second, her lips were on me. I couldn’t think about another woman for weeks.

I’d known her since I was seventeen. I had told her everything. And that afternoon, while I was zipping up her dress, I realized I wanted to kiss her too.

The first time I went to his place alone, my heart was pounding when I rang the bell. I didn’t know what to say. He opened the door in a wet robe and smiled.

We’d spent years avoiding those childhood games, until one winter afternoon I asked him to take me on his bike and my hand landed where it shouldn’t.

For twenty years I thought I knew my own desires. It took ten minutes in an elevator with a nervous twenty-something to realize I knew nothing.

We pulled down our pants in front of the other four and, when he bent over me, I knew I wasn’t leaving that classroom the same man.

I never imagined that crossing the threshold of a discreet bar in my wife's underwear would end with me in a hotel room with a stranger.

On the trip to the apartment, the driver handed me his phone with some videos. What happened next wasn’t in my plans, and I had never done it with another man.

We’d been kissing in secret for months without anything else happening; that afternoon, with the bottle nearly empty, it was she who dragged me to the motel window.

He was the neighborhood kid who came on as a substitute when someone was missing. It took me a whole year to realize he was looking at me too.

My wife wanted to watch me get fucked, not the other way around. What I discovered that night in the hotel suite still leaves me with questions I don’t dare answer.

I went into the doctor's office because of abdominal pain. I left with a number saved in my phone and a question I'd avoided answering for years.

At three in the morning, with the icy wind battering the tent, I slid under his blanket without asking. Mauri didn’t move, but I knew he wasn’t asleep.

I’d been thinking about it for months. That night, in a hotel far from home, I opened the app and let the first man who appeared one meter away come up to my room.

We’d watched weird videos on his computer at the office that time. What I didn’t expect was that months later, that same curiosity would end up on the couch, under the blanket.

I looked at myself in the mirror wearing her lingerie, heels, and painted lips, and knew I couldn’t stay home. It was two in the morning.