Mature

There were five of us and only one of him, but none of us left that house without screaming his name at least twice that hot weekend.

I thought I’d just have something typical to eat before bed. I never imagined those two guys from the bar would lead me into the most uninhibited night of my life.

I went downstairs naked, smiled at them, and only set one rule: come up without clothes. There were eleven, sweaty and needy; I’d been widowed far too long.

They left the club at two in the morning. Renata had no idea the real show that night was playing on a screen at the foot of the bed.

When she took her feet in her hands and started massaging them, she knew that night, with enough wine, her uncle’s wife would end up surrendering to her.

It was her first coven and she was the youngest in the circle. Everyone wanted to touch her, but she only sought the blonde watching her across the fire.

I had just moved in and didn’t know anyone. Bruna was the first to talk to me; I never imagined she and her partner had a plan for me that night.

It was two in the morning, the bottle was nearly empty, and she was still laughing on my sofa. I knew that was the moment I had been waiting for.

I was in my forties, married, with two children, and I had never once looked at another woman. That night, leaning on the bar in a pub, everything I thought I knew about myself came undone.

The cove was almost empty when Carla stripped off her dress without a trace of shame, and Lucía realized that this summer wasn’t going to be about work alone.

I remember her at the door of her bookstore, with her almost white hair and those impossible eyes. Ten years passed before I had her near me again, and this time I wasn’t going to let her go.

Renata called me to ask for a favor, but the one who left me breathless that afternoon was the woman who finished cleaning and waited for me by the elevator.

I opened my eyes in the middle of the action and saw her leaning in the doorway, one hand inside her shorts. She wasn’t angry. She was looking at me.

For months I’d noticed her searching for me in the crowd during the sermon. That Sunday I decided to follow her home and find out what that look was hiding.

She caught me with my hand inside my pants, staring at her through the crack in the door. Instead of shouting, she smiled and told me she had a lot to teach me.

She agreed to stay the night for her favorite aunt’s birthday. She had no idea that two women had planned every caress with precision for that night.

I spent half my life believing I had everything, until I saw her on the production line and knew I wouldn’t stop until I had her in my bed.

Twenty years separated Mariana from her teacher, but when that hand stopped at her hip during rehearsal, she knew the look in her eyes had changed.

We’d been writing to each other every morning and every night for a month and a half. When I finally saw her sitting at that table, I knew neither of us would sleep alone.

She had spent months greeting her in the entrance hall, holding back her desire. That afternoon, the shopping bags spilled, and at last I had an excuse to go upstairs.