Masturbation

I shut the bathroom door, let the uniform fall to the floor, and knew I wouldn’t be able to think about anything else that afternoon but his hands.

No man ever made me finish. I found that out late, after years of other people’s hands and faked orgasms: the only body that knew exactly what mine wanted was my own.

I promised myself I wouldn’t touch myself until I got home, but between work, the gym, and one way-too-hot stranger, my body had other plans.

I was bored, stressed, and horny when a lavender-haired girl popped into my private chat and asked if I wanted more than a simple game chat.

On the other side of the wall, his mother’s moans kept him awake. And when she called him to her room the next day, Bruno knew nothing would ever be the same.

For days I’d had my eyes covered and only recognized people by their perfume and their voice. That night, her hands were nothing like a nurse’s.

I saw his silhouette outlined against the fridge light, barefoot on the cold tile, and I knew that night I hadn’t come down for a glass of milk.

I went into his room to tidy up like any mother. I came out knowing my own son desired me, and that part of me had been waiting for exactly that for months.

I knew him when he was shy and fragile, when his name was Tomás. Ten years later he came back through the door in a miniskirt, with a smile that promised to ruin my summer.

We asked for two singles and split the beds without thinking. By eleven everyone was asleep; in ours, Mom started asking questions no mother should ask.

The moment the elevator closes, my sister kisses me like she’s been waiting all week for it. And the truth is, we both have.

She wore a tiny black bikini, two triangles tied with strings, and looked at me over her shoulder as if she already knew what was about to happen between us.

I opened the door thinking the house was empty. The noise was coming from Marina’s room, and what I saw when I peeked in froze me in the doorway.

I turned off the light, and as I settled in, I felt a lump under the sheets: it was the shorts I had lent her. I brought them to my face without thinking, and my body understood before my mind did.

Andrés was always the strong brother, the one who brought food home and slept with his girlfriends. Until one night of withdrawal he came looking for me in the dark.

I thought the whole house was mine that night. Then the lock turned, he looked at me from the doorway, and I was still naked on the sofa.

I only meant to tell him to turn the porn volume down. I never imagined that argument would end with the two of us on his bed, with nothing between us.

When Greta opened the bathroom door and found us like that, I knew the lockdown was only just beginning to drag all our secrets into the light.

I called my psychologist because I’d been burning all day. Her voice convinced me that no desire was a sin, not even what I felt for Diego.

I turned off the TV when she went upstairs to bed, but the scene kept replaying in my head with my sister’s face instead of the actress’s.