Lingerie

He was almost forty, lived door to door, and one day invited me for a drink. That night I stopped being the girl on the landing and became his desire.

I sent my secretary home, turned up the heat, and left only my blazer over my sheer bra. I wanted Mariela to see everything I’d been craving for weeks.

When she told me the total and I counted the bills, I knew I was short by four thousand. I looked at her, leaned on the counter, and whispered something in her ear.

I kept my women’s clothes under lock and key, sure no one would ever see them. Until that man found the suitcase and asked me to dress for him.

They came home at midnight in short dresses, fishnet stockings, and a perfume that hit me like a punch. In three weeks, my house became something else.

I started by filling balloons with warm water so I’d feel like I had breasts. I ended up gluing them to my nipples and finding a pleasure I didn’t know I was looking for.

I locked the door and became someone else in the mirror. I didn’t count on him having a copy of the key.

Mariana asked me whether I’d ever been curious about kissing another woman. I answered with an impulse that changed what we were forever.

I had never gone out into the street dressed like that. That morning, with the house all to myself, I decided it was the day to fulfill the fantasy that had been keeping me awake.

When I went into the bathroom and found the flowers and that card, I knew that summer would mark me forever, though I still didn’t know how it would end.

“Don’t rush,” she murmured against the wall. “I want to feel everything you do, slowly, until the whole night feels too short.”

I walked into that apartment with my bag full of lingerie and walked out transformed into something else: the obedient little puppy of two men.

We invited him thinking he’d back out when he saw us in person. We didn’t count on that short guy, almost our age, taking control the moment he walked through the door.

She came in wearing her white uniform and her usual smile. What neither of them saw coming was that the other woman was on the sofa, three meters from the game.

When she gave me the keys to her apartment and left for work, I already knew that night we were going to debut much more than the bottle of wine I had packed in my suitcase.

I never told him about my tastes. A WhatsApp notification on his sofa was enough to change everything between us that night at his house.

When she came through the salon door, I knew that session was going to break something inside me. And I wasn’t wrong.

That woman looked me up and down, smiled, and said the line that would change my life: with a little makeup, I could pass for a real little girl.

My mouth and body were ready, my heart pounding in my chest. All that was left was for him to walk through the door and look at me the way I needed him to.