Oral

We crossed the park in the dark and, before I knew it, she was on her knees in front of me with a smile I still can’t get out of my head.

She wore absolutely nothing beneath her long coat, and as soon as the doors closed, I sent the elevator to the top floor to have her all to myself.

I ran into her in the communal showers and, without thinking too much, decided to provoke the situation. What followed turned a boring trip into something I still can’t get out of my head.

I locked the stall, knelt on the cold tiles, and knew I was going to obey him to the end, even if anyone could walk into the next bathroom.

He was new, shy, and polite. He never imagined that that afternoon, after everyone left the office, a single command from me would be enough to put him on his knees.

Three months became nine, and among waterfalls and orchids I discovered that my different body was no curse, but the heart of a desire the village celebrated.

She was leaning against the wall, looking at her phone, in a black dress that suited her far too well. She wasn’t smoking. She was just waiting, and I still didn’t know for whom.

The theater was almost empty when she chose the seat one place away. She wasn’t watching the screen—she was watching me, and wanted me to notice.

I arrived at his door with a backpack, no family, and no way back. He got home from work at five-thirty, and all I wanted was to be the woman I had always known I was.

Her mother went to mass on Wednesday afternoons, and that half hour became the office’s best-kept secret.

He hadn’t seen me in years, but when I opened the door at midnight and felt his firm hands on my waist, I knew my godfather was looking at me differently now.

I let him in thinking he just wanted a glass of water. Ten minutes later I was on my knees in front of the sofa and didn’t want it to stop.

I worked while the city slept locked away, and the only time that was mine was that empty train car. Until he stopped asking for the permit and started asking for something else.

When she opened the door in that red housecoat, I knew summer wasn’t over yet: we still had unfinished business between the sheets.

The three of us lived under the same roof, and at first the only strange thing was the silence. Then came the drinks, the dancing, and a trust that should never have crossed any door.

When Sofía whispered in my ear that we wouldn’t be alone that night, I felt a shiver I couldn’t tell was fear or desire. The stranger was already on his way up the stairs.

We’d been teasing each other with our eyes in the courthouse for months. That fair afternoon, between two cars and far from everyone, we stopped pretending nothing was happening.

Ten minutes before six, I put away the papers, touched up my red lipstick, and drove to the motel where he was waiting with a very precise order from my husband.

I posted the ad expecting little, but the next morning there was one message unlike all the others: direct, no detours, with the voice of a man who knew what he wanted.

We were always the last ones to turn off the lights. That night I walked in without warning, and what I saw changed every shift after that.