Mature

I arrived seeking silence and untouched coves; at reception they told me only one suite remained—with a huge bed, and him to share it.

I arrived at the party determined to misbehave. I never imagined my lover’s older brother would be waiting—or that he knew exactly what I was hiding.

When she entered the apartment that afternoon, she never expected to find another man on the sofa—or to discover how much being watched excited her.

I watched her move through yoga class with a grace that undid me. I never imagined that a chance encounter on the platform would end in her bedroom.

He expected a voluptuous, experienced lady; instead, he got a petite, quiet wife. That night, she decided to show him how badly he had misjudged her.

I was twenty-four and thought I knew what I liked, until that mature man looked at me from across the kitchen and everything fell apart.

Fifteen years ago, we shared more than shifts and photocopies. When she took my arm on the way out, I knew the night wouldn’t end at the hall’s door.

She was sixty-two, had a shameless smile and two beers in the fridge. I’d only gone to reorder her TV channels.

I met her at the hotel bar: elegant, short blond hair, and a smile that had already decided what would happen to me. I never imagined why she had chosen me.

When I found out what the forfeit was, I was struck dumb. Not because I couldn’t, but because it exposed me with a man who knew half the city. And yet I arrived on time that first day.

She wrote one line: «Story or fantasy?». I never imagined that question would end with her naked on my massage table, waiting for me to prove it.

I'd seen the way he looked at me whenever I went to his house. That week at the beach, away from everyone, I decided to find out how far my boyfriend's father would go.

I thought the house next door was empty. When I looked up from my book and saw him on the balcony, I knew exactly what I was going to do with him.

The three of them went away alone, with suitcases full of tiny bikinis and a single intention. My wife said she’d tell me when she got back. And she certainly did.

At six, her friend's message came with three kisses, and Amparo knew before answering that this call would not end like all the others.

They got into my car thinking they were only going to take a bath and eat a hot meal. I had already decided that afternoon wouldn’t end with them dressed.

He was obsessed with one idea, and I played with fire every time I slipped away to meet him where no one could see us.

I thought my future would be decided by the owner of the coast’s most expensive club. I never imagined the final test would be given by his right hand, a woman seasoned by years in the trade.

I had spent years faking it in my husband’s bed. That night, a man half my age whispered a bolero in my ear, and everything I thought was asleep inside me suddenly woke up.