Hotel

I never planned to cheat on Esteban. But Diego had something that undid me with every conversation, and by the time he put his hand on my knee while driving, it was too late.

Marcos introduced her with a knowing smile. I looked her up and down and knew at once that behind that prim façade was something dying to be set free.

Valeria was 26 when we went on vacation together. I’d spent days unable to stop looking at her, and neither of us knew what was about to happen.

I brought wine to his room at eleven at night under the pretense that I couldn’t sleep. We both knew it was a lie, but neither of us said it out loud.

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 didn’t realize what kind of neighborhood I’d wandered into until Valeria stopped in front of the hostel. Then I understood everything—and went in anyway.

We’d spent months talking about that fantasy: being watched. That night at the motel, we turned it into a game with rules and no turning back.

The girls from the team had gone out to see the city. I was alone in the room when someone knocked. It was him, with the smile that had made me nervous since the first Wednesday.

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.

When she came up to the pool that afternoon and asked if I had ever been with a woman, I knew that summer was going to be different.

We arrived at the hotel as mother and son, pretending to be lovers. By Sunday, there was no pretending left.

We were left alone in the hotel under the excuse of choosing shoes. When I knelt to put them on her, everything changed. It shouldn’t have happened, but neither of us stopped it.

I had never gone into a place like that. But those legs, that mischievous smile, that metal door... something told me I had to follow this time.

It took me two seconds to recognize him on the other side of the bar. He was wearing a tight skirt and fishnets, and letting a stranger touch him.

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.

Natalia had never slept in the same room with me. That night in Cartagena I discovered she didn’t mind being naked in front of me either.

We went from client and prostitute to something with no name. On that beach vacation, she broke the taboos she had carried all her life.

Natalia and I shared a room. That was all. But when we turned out the light and our bodies were inches apart, the plan changed.

I was wearing my boldest lingerie and hoping someone would notice me. When he appeared among the gardens and saw me cross my legs, I knew the week would be different.