Forbidden

When he opened the bag, he found a burgundy bra and a note: “Get familiar with the sensations. Tomorrow we begin in earnest.” There was no turning back.

I thought the bathroom would be empty. Carolina was standing at the mirror, and her gaze wasn’t surprised: it was the gaze of someone who knew exactly what I had just done.

I thought I’d put her in her place. That afternoon, as I came out of the bathroom, I heard a zipper coming down behind the half-open office door.

I never thought a game scene would ignite something between us, or that by that same afternoon I’d have his taste in my mouth and his name looping in my head.

Caro was six years older than me, had a life that looked perfect, and a secret she thought she’d take to the grave. That night she decided she couldn’t hide anymore.

I went downstairs for water at midnight and found her awake, ready to give my wife the one lesson I had never managed to teach her.

Marina left the phone book open to the letter C. I was only going to talk about my bedroom problem, but that first appointment didn’t end as anyone would have imagined.

Only one name was left on his patient list, and when he called it, he had no idea who would walk through his consulting room door that afternoon.

Every first Tuesday of the month he rang the bell with the water drum on his shoulder. I greeted him each time wearing less and less, hoping he’d stay longer than necessary.

The theater was almost empty. My husband got up for the drinks and, before leaving, had pulled up my skirt and sweater just enough for his friend to be unable to look away.

I got to her place an hour before my girlfriend. My mother-in-law opened the door in a short robe, a poured whiskey, and a smile that was anything but innocent.

When three knocks sounded on the bathroom door, I assumed it was Carla. But he was the one who came in, without waiting for an answer, barefoot and bare-chested.

When I opened the door to breathe the wet air, someone jumped the wall. He was naked, he wouldn’t give me his name, and my husband was still sleeping inside the house, knowing nothing.

The son of a bitch had used her own body as inspiration, and now she was trembling in front of the screen, not knowing whether what she felt was anger or desire.

I had never touched myself. That afternoon, behind a poorly closed door, I understood why my body had spent years asking for something I was afraid to give it.

Nora had always admired her older sister more than she should have. What she didn’t know was that the woman she secretly desired was, in fact, her own mother.

I knew the exact time she’d be back. I left the door half open, turned off the light, and waited to hear her footsteps in the hallway before I started.

Every so often I’d type her name to see if I could find her. She never showed up. Until that morning, when the first result was her, exact, unmistakable.

The rain was hitting the window and the house was silent. I had the whole afternoon to myself, and for the first time I decided to stop imagining it and feel it for real.

She imagined herself in the dark, with her robe open and unknown hands moving over her without asking permission. And for the first time, she didn’t want them to stop.