Lingerie

That Friday he got into the car with a suitcase and some boxes I didn’t understand. Inside wasn’t work: it was the gift that would finally let me be who I’d always been.

I never imagined that the elegant, composed woman who raised me was hiding someone entirely different on the living-room armchair at two in the morning.

When the red collar tightened around my neck, I understood it was the only thing separating me from all the fangs watching me from the warehouse’s gloom.

One phrase was enough for her to climb onto the bed, rest her heel on his chest, and tell him that tonight he’d have to earn every touch.

I was the one who encouraged her to accept her lover’s proposal. I never imagined she’d come back that dawn surrounded by the memory of strangers.

We gave her red lingerie and the promise of a night without rules. That very night, among strangers’ bodies, my shy Camila stopped asking permission.

I thought I’d pay up with a kiss or a joke. Instead, my friend dared me to show up as an escort at his best friend’s bachelor party.

When we crossed the door of that dimly lit club, I knew that night we would share something neither of us would ever forget.

I walk in wearing the shortest skirt I own and high heels. They’re already on the sofa, waiting for me with their hands ready. And I, nervous, sit right in the middle.

When she told me she’d been on her period for three days, I didn’t pull my hand away: I drew her closer, because her honesty was the beginning of everything that came after.

The owner insisted she take off her bra to try on the strapless dress. What Mariana didn’t expect was to see her mother nod in approval at every order.

I thought the steam room was mine alone, along with my toys. Then the door opened and a very tall stranger looked at me without any hurry to cover herself.

I rested my feet on her lap without thinking, like so many other nights. But that time Daniela looked at me differently, and I knew there was no turning back.

She sat down across from me in a nearly empty bar, took my hands, and told me I looked sad. Three hours later I was naked in her bed, and I didn’t want to leave.

I only wanted a phone to call a tow truck. I ended up between two strangers who decided that quiet night included me.

When I pinned her head between my thighs, I expected her to resist. Instead, I felt her hot breath against my panties and heard a low moan.

It had been more than ten years since I’d seen her. I found her by the dildo shelf and, without thinking, gave her my number.

In front of the camera, the sexologist promised a simple anatomy lesson. But when the host slipped a hand under her thong, both knew there was no turning back.

The age gap should have been a problem, not an invitation. But when she kicked off her shoes and looked at me from the sofa, I knew I’d obey every order.

When winter leaves me trembling and alone, I close my eyes and imagine her entering with firm steps, ready to undress me slowly and finally make me completely hers.