Seduction

When she opened the hidden folder on her phone and turned the screen toward me, I realized the shy girl had finally dared to tell it all.

She was twenty, had a date in three days, and had never touched a man. She asked me for help—and I knew someone willing to be her first lesson.

I never thought kneeling in front of him, silently and in secret, would become my favorite pleasure. But that free hour changed everything.

When the last coworker closed the door, I knew that night I wouldn’t go home as the same woman. He looked at me and I was already trembling.

I always thought it was something for easy girls. Then I knelt in front of him, looked into the antique mirror, and realized I’d been wrong for years.

I’m not looking for love or promises. That afternoon I saw him cross the square and knew exactly what I wanted to ask, though I’d never dared go that far before.

She got the mechanic she’d been watching from the queue. When he slipped her his phone number “in case the car had problems,” they both knew the car was the least of it.

When I saw my sister crossing the restaurant with that new sway, I knew the game I'd invented to arouse my lover had stopped being a game for me.

I opened the cabin door expecting an empty bunk and found five half-dressed strangers. That same night I understood why I travel alone.

I asked for help getting to the restroom in that impossible suit. What she did after she closed the door behind us wasn’t in my contract.

I got on the most crowded car to escape hands I didn’t want, never imagining I’d end up wanting other hands in full view of the platform.

I accepted the date dressed as a woman, not knowing that afternoon in his car I would decide everything that came after. He just looked at me and said: “You’re going to have clients.”

She was cleaning the terrace in a thong and little else, not knowing two men were spying on her from across the building. And me, seeing her desired, drove me insane.

When she came into the bathroom to leave me a clean towel, I knew something was about to happen. What I didn’t expect was for me to be the one to make the first move that night.

She slowly spread her knees until I understood that little show under the table was for me, and for no one else in the whole café.

She chose the shortest skirt and left without underwear. At that hour the stranger on the platform was always there, and this time she wasn’t going to move away.

I went into the third fitting room, left the curtain exactly how I like it, and when I looked up I caught her looking inside. One of mine, I thought.

I went down to a remote Andean village to close a deal. That night I discovered why nobody there asked about kinship.

When the pearl-gray Audi stopped in front of the booth and I saw those parted legs in the passenger seat, I knew my shift was about to change forever.

“Not a sound,” she warned him before kneeling on the cold tiles. Her son was still upstairs, and the shower water didn’t cover everything.