Oral

When she leaned in to say goodbye at the door, her mouth found mine and everything I’d buried for years came rushing back.

He’d asked that no one in the building see him. When she locked the door and pressed her back to the wood, she was already trembling in his hands.

We hadn’t seen each other in nine months. When Renata opened the door and hugged me, I felt something different against my chest—something I wouldn’t understand until that afternoon.

The fireplace was lit, the champagne had gone flat, and I was in my panties in front of the fire. I was waiting for Helena, fresh from the shower, smelling of perfume and promises.

I slipped into the hallway without making a sound. The whispers were coming from the kitchen, and they weren’t from the person I expected. What I saw after that I never told anyone.

Diego was asleep when he felt the mattress dip beside him. It was her, barefoot, whispering that she’d only come down to get her pajamas. His brother was snoring next door.

When he told me to lower my pants and lie face down, I could hear in his voice that this exam wasn’t going to be routine.

She told me a thousand times that she liked me; that night she came down with wine, turned off the TV, and said what she’d been wanting to tell me for two years.

I thought she was just flirting with me, until she took me to her apartment without asking and I understood the night would not end with one drink.

When I put my hand on his chest and didn’t take it away, I knew that afternoon wouldn’t end like the others. He was twice my age and smelled of cold beer.

I wanted people to watch her. To devour her with their eyes. What I didn’t expect was that one of the strangers in the back would dare to chase her into the showers.

At eighteen I thought I’d seen everything, until my cousin pulled the blinds, put on that movie, and started touching herself without taking her eyes off me.

When I looked through the keyhole and saw her on her knees in front of him, I knew lust had defeated pride long before that night.

I had the house to myself, four drinks in me, and the certainty that four men were watching me from the scaffolding. I wasn't going to waste the morning.

Camila whispered in the elevator that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. When Diego opened the door, I knew the afternoon was about to get out of hand.

I thought nothing could be worse than letting him drive me home. Until he shut the apartment door and I put my bag on the couch.

I told her she could bathe on her own now. She lowered her head and whispered she was still scared. I never imagined how far that shower would go.

I set the cup on the bedside table, knelt beside the bed, and understood that that morning nothing in this house would ever be the same again.

My mother had sent me to ask her for a couple of eggs. Doña Marisol opened the door in her robe, her hair still wet, and looked at me in a way I would never forget.