Oral

He was in his chair, oblivious to everything, wearing his headphones. And I was on his bed, with a silly idea I finally dared to act on that afternoon.

I woke up certain it had only been a steamy nightmare. Then I saw the box on the living-room table, just like in the dream, and the coffee slipped from my hands.

I poured him tea to help him relax, but I knew work wasn’t the only thing making him tense. That night, I decided to do something about it.

I put on my shortest miniskirt just to see if I could make him nervous. I never imagined that night he’d show up again, this time inside my head.

The steam erased faces and names. Only the heat remained, his fixed gaze on mine, and the certainty that neither of us was going to stop.

She stood up from the table, turned around, and looked at me in a way that left no room for doubt. I followed her without thinking, my heart pounding in my chest.

We’d spent years brushing our hands against each other without saying a word. That night, in my dim living room, looks were no longer enough—and none of us wanted to pretend anymore.

We were alone in the mountains, or so I thought, until I felt eyes on us from the cabin next door and I didn’t want them to stop.

Since Tomás’s death, I embraced my lust without restraint, but the package wrapped in black velvet that arrived that night hid something my fantasies never imagined.

That night she would perform the ritual for the first time: naked, bound to the stallion, with a veteran warrior ready to wrench from her the pleasure that belonged to the goddess.

When I walked into the café and recognized him, I knew that photo session wouldn’t stay just a photo session. His gaze had already undressed me before I said a word.

I left the sheer babydoll hanging where he’d see it, planned every move, and waited to see how far the guy in 4B would dare go.

I thought it was the receptionist coming back for something she’d forgotten. It was her, with that smile that never meant anything innocent, and the lock turning behind her.

He only had to come too close for the heat we had denied for months to give us both away. That night there was no way to keep pretending.

That witching night, he wasn’t expecting company. But something cold materialized at the foot of his bed and whispered his name as if it knew all death.

We went into the shower just to wash off the day’s fatigue. We came out with a very different idea in mind and a challenge neither of us planned to lose.

Tomás gave me a massage, but he didn’t tell me he’d learn to do it alongside the masseuse. What happened in that room went beyond anything we had fantasized about.

Confessing how many partners we’d each had was only the beginning. What she proposed that night, with my taste still in her mouth, was unlike anything we’d ever discussed before.

When he walked in and lingered half a second too long on her feet, I knew something inside me had cracked. And to my surprise, jealousy wasn’t the first thing I felt.

I was pregnant, alone, and hotter than I’d ever been; when those two men offered to walk me home, I already knew what I was going to let happen between the three of us.