Peeping

The wall was thin, my bed creaked against it, and one morning I found a note slipped under my door. Someone had been listening to everything.

I closed my eyes to imagine a stranger, but when I opened them I found half the site watching me from the scaffolding. And I didn’t want to stop.

By thirty, no one had ever kissed me. The night I spied on my roommate through the crack in his door, something inside me finally woke up.

That afternoon I didn’t need a video. I only had to close my eyes to drift to a balcony where someone watched me come, and everything else stopped mattering.

“Put on the song I told you to and start undressing slowly. Don’t rush: tonight I’m in charge, even if we’re hundreds of kilometers apart.”

It’s two in the morning, I can’t sleep, and I’m alone. The heat is brutal, the bed is burning me, and my mind starts drifting to names and bodies I thought I’d forgotten.

That night I thought of no one. I turned off the light, looked at myself naked in the half-dark, and understood that the body I had given so often to others could belong only to me.

I was going to wait for him on my knees wearing the new set. What I didn’t imagine was how far I’d go on my own, in front of the mirror, before he arrived.

I parked behind the trees, spread the towel over the back seat, and thought I was completely alone. I had no idea what I’d see when I switched on the headlights.

I’m naked on the rug, facing the mirror, still trembling from the last orgasm. And then I decide to play back what I just filmed of myself.

I closed my eyes thinking I was alone. When I felt the shadow at the door, it was already too late to pretend I wasn’t thinking about him.

I hesitated for a couple of seconds, but the drinks had already spoken for me. I took off my dress, sat on the sofa, and let the others settle on the floor to watch.

It was nine in the morning, I was wearing a dress easy to slip aside, and a secret was vibrating between my legs. No driver beside me had any idea what I was doing.

I went upstairs furious to scold her for the noise, but when I opened the door and saw her like that, I was the one left speechless and powerless.

On the other side of the wall, his mother’s moans kept him awake. And when she called him to her room the next day, Bruno knew nothing would ever be the same.

When the study door creaked behind me, I knew we were not alone, and that the woman hidden in the shadows did not plan to leave.

I put my finger where no father should ever touch and felt him tremble. He said no, that he was my father. But that night I learned what a man becomes when he denies what he wants most.

I saw his silhouette outlined against the fridge light, barefoot on the cold tile, and I knew that night I hadn’t come down for a glass of milk.

I went into his room to tidy up like any mother. I came out knowing my own son desired me, and that part of me had been waiting for exactly that for months.