Gay

The first time I saw him at that dinner, I knew that man was unlike the others. Months later, I was the one asking him for more.

I was at the end of my rope. Out of money and out of options, I dialed Rodrigo’s number knowing exactly what it meant to see him again.

That morning the shower lasted nearly an hour. It began with soap and ended with something I had never quite dared to discover before.

I’d spent years hiding that side of myself, but with her it was different. When she told me she wanted to watch, I knew there was no way I could say no.

I was forty-six, married, with lovers and a perfectly ordered life. Then I saw him come out of the bathroom, and I couldn’t look away. That was the beginning.

I was forty-eight, had a wife, three children, and no doubt about who I was. Then a young man asked me for a ride to the metro.

He had introduced himself as the active one in the chat. But when I put my hands on his shoulders and felt him relax, I knew the rules were going to change that afternoon.

Ride-share drivers who came in as tops and ended up asking me to fuck them. Employees who kissed like madmen. Every trade was a different world.

I finished my shift, the platform was brutally cold, and the driver told me I could stay in his bus to warm up. I had no idea what was coming.

I’d gone weeks without breathing properly because of work. That night I wanted to celebrate alone. I walked into the first bar I saw and left as someone else.

When Rodrigo opened the door for me, I knew there was no turning back. My life was about to change in a way I never imagined.

We made a game under the blanket to see if he could guess what underwear I was wearing. I never imagined that bet would end with him on top of me in the hotel room.

I had been in love with Andrés for months when he told me his ex was coming to dinner. I never imagined that night would end with the two of us proclaiming him our king.

When I came back from the kitchen and saw Marco’s hand on Rodrigo’s thigh, I felt a jealousy I couldn’t tell whether I wanted to smother or feed.

I was twenty and had never been with a man. That night, while closing the gym, the only member left walked into the showers at the same time I did.

We had spent months building something unnamed. The afternoon I finally dared to ask him, I knew there was no turning back.

He ran a stone down my back, murmured something I couldn’t understand, and suddenly I wanted only one thing: for that man to take me. I don’t know if it was witchcraft. I know I didn’t resist.

I’d carried that nameless curiosity for years. When Diego appeared in the cove, alone and with time to spare, something changed before the day was over.

When I arrived at his apartment that Saturday afternoon, I had shaved everything and I wasn’t wearing underwear. I knew exactly what I was going for. Or so I thought.

Marcos arrived on time in his dark suit, smelling of expensive cologne. When I closed the apartment door, I knew we were both about to cross a line.