Oral

I had a week to decide whether to leave everything behind. That night, four men set out to make me forget the decision, even if only for a few hours.

I went in with a glass of water and found him changing his pants. From that second on, I knew everything I thought I knew about myself was a lie.

His hand slid from my knee to my thigh without haste, as if he already knew I wasn’t going to push it away. And I didn’t.

He hadn’t slept in two days, but footsteps in the dark aisle woke him: someone was going into the bathroom where another boy was already waiting, and no one else knew.

The ad said “free erotic session for young guys.” What it didn’t say, and what I understood perfectly, was how he planned to charge me that night.

Matías opened the door barefoot, wearing a half-smile that hid nothing. Behind Andrés, Esteban was already breathing against his neck. All three knew why they had come.

He stepped down from the podium trembling with rage. He didn’t want to be alone: he crossed the apartment hallway and pushed open the door to the suite where his two men were already waiting awake for him.

It started as a game in the back row of a theater and became an addiction: finding the city’s most impossible corner to lose control.

I was twenty, home alone, and chatting online. I never imagined that stranger would show up at my door twenty minutes later—or what he would leave burned into me forever.

He’d spent days only seeing him through a screen. When the door finally shut behind us, I knew that night we’d make up for every stolen hour.

He lost his keys in front of the door of the only neighbor everyone had warned him about, and that summer afternoon he decided to find out why there was so much mystery.

He stayed on my sofa for a couple of weeks, polite and distant, until one Sunday afternoon he dropped the line that woke everything we’d buried in those summers.

That night Eneko broke down, so Unai did the only thing he knew would calm him: he took him to the bed where Mikel and Asier were already waiting awake.

I’d gone two weeks without cumming and my imagination played a dirty trick on me in the middle of my shift. What I didn’t expect was for someone to notice before I did.

We were late to the academy every morning, but we never skipped that ritual between the sheets. Today, for the first time in weeks, he was the one spreading my legs.

I thought I was imagining it, until I found a number written on the wrapper of the wet wipe he handed me when I got off the plane.

I’m thirty-four and I never doubted what I was. Until that seed started growing inside me, silent and persistent, and I could no longer ignore it.

The carriage was empty that late at night. When that man sat almost across from me and started looking at me without hiding it, I knew the ride would be different.

It was 9:30 a.m., a half-corrected Excel sheet, and suddenly his naked boyfriend’s body was brushing the back of his neck. Working was going to be impossible.

I’d been at the company three weeks when he leaned over the table and told me I had something that caught the eye. That afternoon I followed him.