Office

By day I signed as Tomás and no one suspected a thing. That folder accidentally opened on my boss’s tablet was going to shatter eighteen months of silence in one blow.

He had a meeting and left me alone all afternoon. Bored, I opened a folder on his computer I had no business opening… and couldn’t stop looking.

Under that loose, demure clothing, you could sense a woman with her desire intact. I only had to wait for her to stop pretending in front of her husband.

I never told him about my tastes. A WhatsApp notification on his sofa was enough to change everything between us that night at his house.

The elevator stopped on the eighth and he got in. I had the last cash in my pocket and the certainty that something was going to happen between us that morning.

I served her the four o’clock coffee as always. Only this time, I’d added something that wasn’t on any schedule.

I crossed the parking lot, hungry and harboring a refined hatred of humanity, and then I saw her fall to the pavement from a punch. She was my boss.

The white leggings were see-through under my sweatshirt, and I knew that night, in the empty van, the driver was going to look at me differently.

I started with mirrors on the floor and ended up discovering my neighbor naked from my terrace. Every fleeting glimpse became a drug.

When she sat on my couch with smeared mascara and a trembling voice, I knew a whiskey and a few comforting words wouldn’t be enough.

I thought I’d put her in her place. That afternoon, as I came out of the bathroom, I heard a zipper coming down behind the half-open office door.

Adrián walked into that office as a senior analyst and knew, from the director’s smile, that he would leave as something else: something pretty, docile, and nameless.

His hug sent a rush of heat through my whole body that I couldn’t explain. I only knew that, as soon as I was alone, I’d have to finish what he had started.

It all started with a picture on my phone. Ten days later I can’t get out of bed without thinking about when I’ll get to touch myself again.

I’d stuffed it in my purse in a hurry, but that afternoon I took it out for another reason: I was alone, bored, and far too horny to hold back.

I had finished all my work, no one was left on the floor, and the heat had me restless. That afternoon I decided to play with fire on the desk.

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.