Forbidden

I stopped my bike in front of Andrés’s house not knowing his mother was waiting for me in the doorway, and that that empty afternoon would change everything between us.

He unzipped her dress in front of the entryway mirror, and when she saw herself wrapped in his arms, she knew there was no going back that night.

From below, while she pushed the guide wire at the top of the ladder, her top lifted from her body and Adrián realized that summer would not be like the others.

I asked her to dress to provoke, and on the fourth day she came home with a trembling voice and a story she couldn’t tell me with her clothes on.

I learned very early that my body was worth more than any degree. What none of them knew is that I never felt a thing while they paid me.

When she stepped off the plane in those shorts and with that smile, I knew the rule about not touching a friend’s sister was going to cost me dearly.

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.

I’d been imagining it for weeks. That dawn I opened the gate, stepped onto the asphalt, and knew I wouldn’t stop until someone saw me.

I promised myself it would only be a quick visit to the neighborhood. When I woke in the middle of the night, she was still beside me, immaculate, but something had changed forever.

I thought the family weekend would be like any other. Until she walked through the gate and I realized the past had never really been buried.

My tutor had just fallen asleep when I discovered the half-open drawer of her bedside table. Inside, something was shining that was about to change everything between us.

I accepted the room he rented me without suspecting a thing. Three weeks later I was already planning my new life with him, while my husband still called me every night.

I pulled the curtain aside in fear, thinking they were burglars. What I saw in the patio left me breathless and trembling between my legs.

When she came out of the bathroom with her robe tied carelessly and her nipples pressing against the fabric, I knew I could never look at her as just the cousin from summer beach trips again.

When he pulled down his boxer briefs without asking me to leave the room, I knew the afternoon had stopped being about sportswear.

When I opened my eyes, her arm was resting on my chest and the makeshift bed still smelled like the night before. I was going to leave soon; I’d promised my husband.

She was the only woman at the club who charged to dominate men. Until a rich client sat beside her and, instead of stripping her, only wanted to listen to her until dawn.

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.

When I moved to the capital I thought I was only looking for work. My roommate taught me something else: that men look at what they shouldn’t, and one gesture is enough to prove it.

My ad was always for men. But that afternoon, when I read her message, I knew I was about to break my own rule and complicate my life.