I Touched Myself in the Theater Bathroom Thinking of Her
I saw her legs cross the stage and knew I wouldn’t make it through the whole day. Desire carried me to the last bathroom stall, alone with my own need.
I saw her legs cross the stage and knew I wouldn’t make it through the whole day. Desire carried me to the last bathroom stall, alone with my own need.
The wall was thin, my bed creaked against it, and one morning I found a note slipped beneath my door. Someone had been listening to everything.
I closed my eyes to imagine a stranger, but when I opened them I found half the site watching me from the scaffolding. And I didn’t want to stop.
I was hanging laundry at dawn, cold and bored, when something in the patio’s silence lit me up inside—and I didn’t want to stop.
I was doing homework when the heat between my legs distracted me. What I did next with that glass of ice changed the way I saw myself.
I closed my eyes looking for sleep and what I found were unknown hands holding me in the dark and not letting me escape.
At thirty, no one had ever kissed me. The night I spied on my roommate through the crack in his door, something inside me finally awakened.
The video came without warning: him in his car, the light red and one hand not on the wheel. I knew I wouldn’t make it home in time.
She had never masturbated at work. But that morning, with her phone full of pictures of her neighbor and the door unlocked, she discovered how much risk turned her on.
I knew no one could see me in that dark storeroom. Only the naked mannequin in the corner witnessed what I did while thinking of her, the seamstress in the shortest skirt.
I bought that toy out of sheer boredom. What I didn’t calculate was that the building manager would end up holding it in his hands, looking me in the eyes.
I stripped off because of the heat, closed my eyes, and suddenly there she was, in black lace lingerie, straddling me in my empty bed.
It’s been five weeks since you showed up, and tonight, with the house all to myself, I decided I wasn’t going to wait any longer to finish what you left half-done.
That afternoon I didn’t need a video. I only had to close my eyes to drift to a balcony where someone watched me come, and everything else stopped mattering.
“Lock the door and take off your clothes,” was the first thing you heard from my voice that night. The rest depended on how much you were willing to obey me.
For nearly a year we had been stripping in front of the camera without knowing each other. When I walked into the café and sat beside him, we both lost our breath.
It took forty-eight hours to arrive. Forty-eight hours in which every brush of fabric against my skin reminded me what was on its way.
“Put on the song I told you to and start undressing slowly. Don’t rush: tonight I’m in charge, even if we’re hundreds of kilometers apart.”
It took me years to understand what my body was asking for. And once I finally did, there was no going back or settling for less.
He’d been thinking about it for weeks. The box arrived on an ordinary Tuesday, with no sender, and Adrián hid it in the closet until the house fell silent.