Party

I’d spent years imagining him from the other side of the wall. That night, alone in my aunt’s house, he was the one who rang the bell.

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.

When I was down to just my bra and thong, my friend climbed onto the stage and asked for the music to start over. She didn’t want to leave me alone up there.

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.

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.

I’d dressed up a thousand times in front of my bedroom mirror, but that night, for the first time, it wasn’t just for me. Someone was waiting for me on the other side of the door.

She went up on the stage fully dressed while the others were already nearly naked, and I knew that night she was going to lose all her shame in front of everyone.

I hadn’t set foot in a club in years, but that night my son’s friend looked at me in a way no man had in a long time.

I lost my friends, lost my way, and somehow ended up on my knees between two women I had just met. This really happened.

I’d spent the whole night with three men and I still felt insatiable. So I picked up my phone and wrote: “Are you ready not to let me sleep all weekend?”

I only wanted to breathe away from the smoke and the jokes. I never imagined I’d watch, from the back seat of my own car, what that stranger dared to do to my wife.

Maximiliano strutted around as the alpha of the room until she walked in. One whisper and her perfume were enough to bring his smoke-and-mirrors empire crashing down in front of everyone.

When the most elegant woman in the room took my hand and whispered, “Come with me,” I knew that night would be unlike any other.

When I climbed into the pickup with my unconscious boyfriend in the back seat, his father already had that smile of someone who knows exactly what’s about to happen.

I crossed half of Spain to leave that afternoon by the pool behind, but music and a stranger dragged me into repeating what I swore I’d never feel again.

I’d been at the company barely a month when my director put her hand on my thigh and ordered me upstairs for a drink. I wasn’t about to disobey her.

She was forty-two, newly buried in a marriage, and desperate to feel desired again. That night, at the bar, someone was watching her.

We had climbed over the fence into an empty property. He set the pace with his hand on my neck, and I let myself go without thinking of anything else.

In the dark, a few meters from my building, his cock shone under the only streetlamp on the street. And I already knew I was going to lower my head again.

When the four guys came into the apartment at five in the morning, I knew I was about to live through something I’ve never told anyone.