Office

I told him to strip too. It was only fair: he’d already seen me naked on the screen and I’d spent the whole afternoon pretending to be technically curious.

I’d spent months seeing her in a sweater and glasses behind the monitor. That night, in a wine-colored dress and with one drink too many, she looked at me in a way that changed everything.

She took the job to run from a dead relationship. What she didn’t expect was that the arrogant boss would hide a man capable of stealing her breath.

She had spent months imagining his hands, his cologne, his voice. She never thought a storm would be enough to make them stop pretending they didn’t want each other.

The cock that had left her trembling on Saturday belonged to the man who would sign her evaluations on Monday. And neither of them planned to stop.

When he stayed to practice a few poses, I could feel him looking at me. I hadn’t had a partner in months, and my body had decided for me long before my head did.

She had never been in a sex shop, she told me. We went into a booth together, and amid the moans on the screen, she asked me for something I never imagined hearing from her lips.

Mateo had just thrown his wife out of the restaurant when someone knocked on the office door. It was the tattooed waitress, and she hadn’t come to talk about the day’s accounts.

A guy rummaging through a dumpster whistled at me in the street, and when he told me why, I wanted to disappear. What I never imagined was how I’d end up thanking him.

I thought it was just a game of late-night messages until one afternoon he shut my office door, turned off the light, and stopped asking permission.

I dressed to impress, but when I walked into that office, I realized I wasn’t going to use my résumé to get the job.

I stopped to fix a bike chain and went on to my office not knowing that stranger would cost me my job... and give me far more than a bad day.

I arrived alone at a freshly moved-into floor, wearing tight leggings and a thin sweater. The mover looked at me differently when he closed the door, and I knew I wouldn’t be leaving unsatisfied.

They had traveled to close a contract, not for this. But in the elevator of that hotel, Lucía realized they’d been pretending not to want each other for months.

I went in to sort out some boring paperwork and came out trembling. What that man did to me with his hands behind his desk still keeps me up at night.

It was only supposed to be the excuse his wife wouldn’t question. I never imagined I’d end up sitting across from them, unable to look away.

I’d gone almost two months without hearing from him. Then the message came: “Tomorrow come to work wearing women’s underwear.” And I knew I wouldn’t be able to say no.

He lowered his voice to a rough whisper on the other side of the partition, and I knew I’d never sit across from him in a meeting again without remembering it.

I agreed to the game: the door left unlatched, the lights off, and a man I’d never see face-to-face. What I never imagined was running into him at the office on Monday.

I went up to deliver some papers and came down with a stranger who smelled like expensive cologne. Then the elevator stopped, the lights died, and everything changed between us.