Masturbation

Her cold hands moved slowly over a place no hand should have gone. I didn’t make a sound. But something broke that afternoon, and nothing was ever quite the same.

Andrés thought he was alone in the sports center showers. When he looked up and saw the coach watching him from the door, it was already too late to stop.

I had him drunk in my hands. Months of fantasies about my roommate, and now only his wet underwear stood between us.

She was telling him about her breakup when the couple below started kissing. They looked before they meant to. Then they couldn’t stop.

The doctor was clear: seven days of treatment. My mother, a nurse by profession, said she’d take care of it herself. I had no idea what that meant.

We put the TV on mute so we could hear them better. We didn’t know they were hearing us from the other side of the ceiling too.

When my friend took her by the waist to guide her into the kitchen, something ignited in me. It wasn’t jealousy. It was something darker that I chose not to put out.

It was my first day settling into the house when I heard splashing in the pool. I looked out and saw them naked, kissing, completely unaware of me.

When Sandra came out of the shop with that smile I knew so well, I knew that night there was no turning back. I had given her permission. Now I just had to watch.

Every afternoon I put the dildo in the chair and kept working. I was preparing to give Marcos what he’d been asking me for for months.

I arrived at the gym with damp hair, no underwear, and trembling. He was waiting at the door. When he locked it behind me, I knew there was no turning back.

In the restaurant I told her to act like my girlfriend. She switched chairs slowly. Neither of us said what that meant.

We’d been friends since our teens, both married, both sure of who we were. Until he sent me that video and something in me stopped being so certain.

While Marina was fucking me with the harness, she asked if I would take her as my wife. I said yes between moans. I never thought a proposal could feel like that.

Daniela had told me what turned her on was giving an experience like that to someone who would never expect it. That night in the desert, a trucker was chosen.

I followed him on Instagram out of curiosity and ended up reading his texts at midnight, heart racing. Just text. Just words. Just him.

When I saw the photo of his body, I knew I was in unknown territory. I didn’t close it. I saved it. And that decision changed everything.

He adjusted the binoculars toward the lit fourth-floor window and found something that hadn’t been meant for him.

I was watching her on camera when I called her. She didn’t know I could see her. And yet the two of us ended up doing the same thing at the same time.

When I told him it was my first time, he paused for a second and looked at me. Not with doubt, but with something that looked far too much like satisfaction.