Seduction

I had gotten used to being looked at, but that afternoon, alone at the waterfall, I decided I wouldn’t cover up this time when I found him hiding among the trees.

I’d watched her for years in ways I shouldn’t have. That night, after catching her with another man, she got into my car not knowing I had secrets of my own.

We had arranged to exchange some photos. What neither of us said out loud was that this reunion had been waiting months to happen.

I’d spent months imagining it and couldn’t bring myself to admit it. That afternoon, an ordinary conversation was enough to send everything out of control.

She was fifteen years older than me, drove a red convertible, and knew exactly what she wanted that night. All I had to do was obey and enjoy it.

Every time she touched herself, liquid stars and new flowers burst from her body. That night the eons had been fulfilled and she was about to burn like never before.

I came to Buenos Aires to save up a little money for my family. I never imagined the nicest house in the neighborhood would change my life the way it did.

For fifteen years I’d greeted him on the beach without imagining what that man saw every night through the bathroom glass while I thought I was alone.

That afternoon the massage left me burning. I never imagined I’d end up on my knees in front of a stranger in my own living room, or who would catch me there.

I’d spent weeks avoiding her, convinced what we had was over. Then the phone rang and her voice was enough to tell me I’d fall again.

I was sweaty and breathless when his voice reached me from behind. He didn’t want to take me to dinner: he wanted to buy my whole night, and I wanted to be bought.

At eighteen I entered medical school with the country’s highest score. At twenty-four I still didn’t know what an orgasm was. This is my story.

She slipped into bed naked except for her thong and whispered in my ear: don’t turn around, don’t say anything, just listen. Then she started telling me about that night.

When she slipped her hand under my desk, I knew that morning wasn’t going to solve a single incident. I could only think of her and what she had just left me.

He kept saying it was wrong, that he shouldn’t touch me. But his hand was already seeking my waist, and we both knew nothing would stop us for those five days.

She was old enough to be my mother and married to a man who barely looked at her. I only wanted to go back to that kitchen every afternoon.

I was nineteen and impossibly horny. He noticed it the moment he opened his apartment door, and there was no way to hide what we both wanted.

We’d spent three years obeying one rule between partners. That cold night, in her green dress and a dark office, we knew we were about to break it.

She was her father’s wife, but that dawn, sitting in the sand and pressed against his chest, I no longer knew where affection ended and something else began.

I agreed to go up to a room with twelve mattresses on the floor, never imagining that by morning I’d leave with more than one man marked on my skin.