In Public

I booked the empty time slot and wore the tightest T-shirt I owned. What I didn’t expect was to find two men waiting for me on the tatami.

We had exchanged hundreds of photos, but nothing had ever happened in person. Until that March afternoon when I picked her up and she already had a plan.

The first time he kissed me in that parking lot, I ran away. The second time, I didn’t make excuses: I let him corner me against the same block wall.

Having one cock in my ass and another in my mouth wasn’t my plan for Saturday. But I walked into the sauna, exchanged two looks, and everything changed.

That night I put on the flesh-colored tights, the golden little jacket, and the long-haired wig. I had no idea the costume would unleash what it did.

I woke up hard, decided not to jerk off the usual way, and went cruising. What I didn’t expect was to end up kneeling with three cocks around my face.

Kneeling in the park, blindfolded and barefoot on the grass, I understood that I no longer made any decisions: he had the key, and I had stopped looking for it.

He asked me not to wash before I went. I thought it would be just another whim, but that night I found out how far my own shame could go.

“Don’t move from there,” she ordered in a low voice, pressing her heel against me. And I, a stranger, obeyed without a second thought.

Her feet were swollen from the match and she had a smile that knew everything. I only wanted to kneel and show her how far I was willing to go.

I couldn’t stop staring at her boots. When she caught me, instead of pulling away, she asked if I was one of those who die to kiss soles.

I touched up my makeup, smiled, and went back to the kitchen with a plan none of them could imagine. That night, I chose the menu.

At ten sharp I walk into the boardroom and, while the boss talks numbers, my head goes to a place where she and I don’t obey any rules.

She sits two chairs to my left and, while the family talks, my head already has her astride my lap. No one knows. Not even her. Not yet.

When my husband got up to go to the bathroom, I knew the man at the next table would come over. I still hadn’t told him I was afraid to go back to something like that.

We’d been living in routine for fifteen years until a toy forgotten in a drawer sparked something neither of us knew how to control. And that was only the beginning.

When he told me, “Take off your blouse in the parking lot,” I thought it was a joke. Ten minutes later, his wife was watching us from her bed on a video call.

I’d spent years dressing in secret, but that night I put on the boots, the fishnets, and the velvet dress, and walked out the door as her.

I recognized him on the platform after twenty years, and we boarded the same carriage. By the time we reached the third station, his hand was already where it shouldn’t be.

Half past three in the afternoon, no knickers, and a very clear plan in my head. What I didn’t account for was who would end up speaking to me through the door.