Oral

Marcos let me go in first, like a gentleman with a crooked smile. Inside, on some planks, two strangers were looking at me, their hands already at their zippers.

I thought I had the situation under control. I thought an old man with no strength couldn’t do anything to me. That was my first mistake of the morning.

I had tried it before and only felt pain. That night, in a hotel room with a stranger, I discovered how wrong I was.

I watched her fold sheets in those light-colored leggings and prayed she wouldn’t notice the bulge in my shorts. Then one day she turned and asked why I was looking at her like that.

The shutter was half lowered and the key turned twice behind me. I came without my ring and with twelve years of silence on my tongue.

I followed her out into the street convinced it would be just another night. I had no idea what she was hiding under that tight dress or how far she would take me.

He called me as evening fell to warn me he’d be late. By then I’d already started getting ready: the wig, the makeup, the plug. Only him was missing.

Rubén filled the coffee maker while, on the other side of the window, our women stopped pretending. Neither of us looked away, and then his hand found mine.

I only wanted sun and silence. I wasn’t looking for anyone, least of all a man who waited for me on the shore just to tell me he wasn’t letting me go.

I went up for air because I couldn’t stand the heat. I heard his footsteps on the stairs and knew, before I even turned around, that I wouldn’t sleep that night.

I dreamed of both of them when I felt the weight of a body climb onto the bed. A warm hand ran down my back, and before I opened my eyes I knew it wasn’t Mateo who had returned.

It was six forty. She checked her watch, asked me to stop beside the alley, and before I could ask anything, she was already kissing me.

I opened my eyes in the middle of the pleasure and saw her leaning against the doorframe, watching us. She said nothing. She just slid a hand inside her shorts.

We were newbies and nervous, but that couple sitting at the back of the club looked at us like they already knew exactly what we’d come for.

I was seventeen and had a girlfriend who was crazy about another guy. It took me a year to realize that betrayal didn’t hurt me —it excited me.

When Mateo took off his swim trunks, I saw my wife stop moving her eyes. I was too drunk to stop what that look had just begun to promise.

With days left before my trip, she called me for an innocent favor. Neither of us imagined we'd end up locked inside, in the dark, without clothes.

I rolled down the window, exchanged a few words with her, and invited her in. I had no idea that the dark-haired girl on the unlit corner was waiting for me with a surprise between her legs.

Less than a hundred meters from the music and champagne, she spread her legs in the sun, not knowing someone was coming down the path. When she saw him, it was already too late to close them.

I was twenty-two and had never been with another man. When I pushed open the ajar door to 5B, I knew I wouldn’t leave that night the same man I’d been when I walked in.