First Time

For years I told myself I was the typical straight guy. I was lying. My hand jobs were for the guys in the locker room, and it took me too long to admit it.

I came to Buenos Aires to save up a little money for my family. I never imagined the nicest house in the neighborhood would change my life the way it did.

At eighteen I entered medical school with the country’s highest score. At twenty-four I still didn’t know what an orgasm was. This is my story.

That afternoon, in the silence of the house, an accidental brush revealed a language my body spoke and I still didn’t know how to read.

She was coming of age, and the entire sanctuary held its breath as she walked naked to the altar where her two mothers waited, ready to initiate her.

All my classmates sighed over him, but none of them knew what I hid beneath the masculine uniform the world forced me to wear.

I was married, I was straight, and I was sure of who I was. That dawn, in a car parked by the beach, I stopped being so sure.

They went up to the second floor carrying a tray of pastries. None of them imagined they’d learn that afternoon how much desire had been sleeping between the three of them.

We woke up naked, all three of us, and laughing, I remembered the exact moment everything changed: when I learned what Mariela was hiding under her skirt.

When he put my hand on his crotch while driving, I knew there was no going back. That night I stopped pretending and gave myself to him completely.

I wanted her from the very first day, with her perfect body squeezed into those leggings. What I didn’t imagine was what she was hiding underneath, or how far I was willing to go.

I stopped at the light out of curiosity. An hour later I was on my back, asking her to take it slow, discovering a side of myself I’d spent years pretending didn’t exist.

It was the first time I saw her appear in a nightdress at three in the morning, barefoot and with that smile that asked permission without asking.

When she poured the fourth shot and held my gaze a second too long, I knew that night we were going to cross the line we’d been avoiding for months.

It was almost eleven when the elevator dropped me at the empty parking garage. I had no idea those keys would cost me so much, and so little, at the same time.

When she told me the total and I counted the bills, I knew I was short by four thousand. I looked at her, leaned on the counter, and whispered something in her ear.

I rented the room and turned off the lights, letting myself be spoiled like never before. Until my hand moved between her legs and found something I’d never imagined.

The call came on a Saturday at dusk. Her parents were away, and her voice on the phone trembled a little. I knew then the night wasn’t going to end early.

Downstairs our parents were toasting twenty years together. Upstairs, in his room, I had his cock in my hand and he wanted me to finally make a move.

Marisol was sitting on the edge of the bed with the baby at her breast, completely naked, when I pushed the door open. The milk was running down on its own and she didn’t ask me to leave.