Seduction

My wife went down to the airplane bathroom behind the flight attendant and came back tousled, with a confession that left me hard and wanting more.

I went down to the kitchen practically naked, with three strangers kneeling in my living room and my partner on the other side of the wall. What I didn’t know was that he was recording everything.

When the whole town slept its siesta, Camila stood in the middle of the empty street, bit her lip, and asked which of the five would go first.

I thought it would just be another photo shoot. I had no idea the three of them would end up touching me at once—or that I’d let myself go without thinking of my husband.

I knocked on the wooden door expecting my father, but the foreman opened it instead—with a different smile. Then he told me my dad wasn’t there.

You didn’t plan to work that day, but the message sounded like an order. What you didn’t know was that your coworkers had been waiting weeks to see you walk in like that.

—Just to watch —she whispered at the club door. But strangers’ hands were already seeking her skin, and I was unable to look away or stop it.

When the van pulled up behind me in the dead of night, I knew that night wasn’t going to end like any other. And to my surprise, I didn’t want it to.

No one had ever given me a massage focused only on my breasts, much less with my four friends watching from the pool edge, waiting their turn.

In the car, the only light came from a distant streetlamp and a stranger who grabbed my ass the second I closed the door. The night had barely begun.

I went downstairs naked, smiled at them, and only set one rule: come up without clothes. There were eleven, sweaty and needy; I’d been widowed far too long.

I was only there as company, I swear. But when the two of them came onto the terrace, identical and smiling the same way, I knew I wasn’t going to behave that night.

She came to buy my book and sat on my lap with her back to me. “Read it slowly, out loud,” I asked, as my fingers began moving down her belly.

One look in the supermarket was enough for me to drop my bags and follow her upstairs. I didn’t know her name, but I already wanted her.

Every time Noa looked away, Marina watched her in silence, convincing herself that staring at her best friend’s legs meant nothing.

When she told me she’d been on her period for three days, I didn’t pull my hand away: I drew her closer, because her honesty was the beginning of everything that came after.

“Be careful what you wish for,” they say. I wanted it so badly that one night, in the darkness of an empty theater, a stranger showed me what I’d pretended for years not to want.

She agreed to follow her in the car without really knowing why. She only knew that, while driving behind her, something inside her body was stirring to life.

When Mariela took the microphone and said the bar was closed for just the women there, I knew none of us was going home the same.

When she moved into the apartment across from mine, I never imagined that one afternoon, while her son slept, her hand would climb up my thigh and I’d spread my legs without thinking.