Lovers

Her husband only had eyes for the other woman’s cleavage. Marina and I looked at each other from the far end of the living room and, without saying a word, we’d already said everything.

It began as a game of words in bed. It ended with me climbing into another man’s car while my husband waited inside the casino knowing everything.

I came to that dinner expecting a glass of wine and an escape to the countryside afterward. I ended up kneeling in front of a stranger while my lover watched.

I accepted the dinner knowing how it would end. What he didn’t know was that every touch in the dim light was part of a plan I made before I took my clothes off.

He’d spent months sleeping beside a woman who prayed instead of touching him. Then he walked into the veterinarian’s office, and she locked the door.

They had never met in person, only photos and messages charged with desire. But she was coming to his city, and this time fantasy threatened to become real.

She’d gone months without her husband touching her. That night, at the nightclub, I saw a small red ribbon hanging from her blouse and knew exactly what it meant.

I was waiting for him with my bags packed, ready to leave him. But when he began telling me what happened with her, I discovered my body was reacting differently from my pride.

I finished getting dressed on the edge of that bed and understood there was no turning back: the dutiful wife was dead, and I wanted more, much more.

Her husband came home tired and fell asleep in front of the TV. Her boss, on the other hand, looked at her as if he knew exactly what she imagined in the shower.

Two months pregnant, I opened my phone and saw my husband with a coworker. I didn’t cry as much as I expected: I started counting how many fucks he owed me.

He texted me at ten in the morning, and I knew that afternoon, with the house empty, I’d give him exactly what his girlfriend would never allow.

When Damián slid his fingers along her hips, Marina understood that her husband was not watching her with jealousy, but with a desire she had never known in him.

My wife left for work and I was left alone with my reports. Then I heard the key in the lock and she came in, unannounced, in that red miniskirt.

When he brushed her forearm as he left the restaurant, Marina knew it hadn’t ended at the table. He was her husband’s best friend.

She crosses the street, thighs clenched, careful not to lose a single drop of what he asked her to bring home. Her husband waits awake.

I went down to the pool thinking I was only looking for the gym and some sun. I had no idea they’d already decided what they’d do with me once the husbands closed their eyes.

I came out of the shower dripping, thinking it was my mother at the door. But when I opened it, there she was—the only woman I could never get out of my head.

When the dressing room door opened, I knew it wasn’t my assistant. It was him, and he had that look that made me choose between desire and guilt.

Three days without thinking about anything except the smell of hot rubber and his hands on me. And my husband, without knowing it, gave me the perfect excuse to go back.