Seduction

Marina left the phone book open at the letter C. I only meant to talk about my bedroom blockage, but that first session didn’t end the way anyone would imagine.

When I took off my bikini top in front of Carolina, her face changed. And then I knew I wasn’t leaving the beach that afternoon as just her friend.

I pressed her shirt open against the wall in the vestibule, kissed her neck, and knew I wasn’t going to ask her to stay, even though I was dying to.

Only one name was left on his patient list, and when he called it, he had no idea who would walk through his consulting room door that afternoon.

Every first Tuesday of the month he rang the bell with the water drum on his shoulder. I greeted him each time wearing less and less, hoping he’d stay longer than necessary.

The theater was almost empty. My husband got up for the drinks and, before leaving, had pulled up my skirt and sweater just enough for his friend to be unable to look away.

I got to her place an hour before my girlfriend. My mother-in-law opened the door in a short robe, a poured whiskey, and a smile that was anything but innocent.

I crossed that door convinced women weren’t my thing. I left two hours later knowing that was the biggest lie I’d ever told myself.

I shaved everything off and wore stockings and garters in secret. I never imagined a company convention would end with me surrendering to another man.

When the three knocks sounded at the bathroom door, I assumed it was Carla. But the one who came in was him, without waiting for an answer, barefoot and bare-chested.

When I opened the door to breathe the wet air, someone jumped the wall. He was naked, he wouldn’t give me his name, and my husband was still sleeping inside the house, knowing nothing.

I had never taken my blouse off outdoors. My pulse was racing and my hands were trembling, but something in me needed to know what it felt like for a stranger to be able to look at me.

That morning there was no one at home to hear me. Only the mirror, my heels, and the voice of a man living inside my head.

I adore the nap when I’m alone at home. Today the chill of the storm raised my skin, and without realizing it, all I could think about was the way you’d look at me.

He lived right across from me and had never looked at me twice. That afternoon I decided that was going to change, even if I had to cross the hallway without a bra.

In the drinks line she asked to smell my perfume. When she leaned in against my neck, I understood that night’s concert would end somewhere other than my home.

It was ten in the morning, I was alone at home, and I could only think about his hands. Today, at last, we’d be alone, and I needed to calm what he’d awakened in me.

The son of a bitch had used her own body as inspiration, and now she was trembling in front of the screen, not knowing whether what she felt was anger or desire.

At fifty-one, after many women, I wrote to a stranger on a gay website not knowing that message would force me to accept what I had always denied.

I’d spent the whole day with my underwear damp just thinking about what was waiting for me at home. The box was still closed on the bed, and I couldn’t take it anymore.