Seduction

The villa was perfect for an affair: four bedrooms, husbands fishing offshore, and two men due at seven. Until the gate rang at six.

She looked him up and down and said, “You walk like you’re asking permission to exist.” She was right. And that was exactly what she wanted from him.

The water poured over us and I was on my knees. Those three days taught me that there are pleasures you can’t repress no matter how hard you try.

I’d gone months without anyone touching me. That night I started the car with no destination, but my body already knew exactly where it was going.

I’d been watching him in the locker room for months without daring to act. That afternoon, when he asked if I wanted to go up to his place, I knew it was now or never.

We went to the nude beach to relax. What began with furtive glances ended with her moaning among strangers while I couldn’t stop watching.

I’d been ignoring his looks for weeks. That night at the hotel, after the pool and dancing with strangers, I couldn’t keep doing it.

I saw him walk through that door and my heart started racing. I wore the reddest dress I owned. I wanted the first thing he saw to be me.

When I went down to the garage, Valeria was waiting for me in leather pants and a smile that was anything but maternal.

He’d come in looking for the bathroom and stayed standing in the doorway, staring at me. Twenty years old, nervous as hell, and asking me something I hadn’t expected.

She got on my bike in that tight leather outfit and told me to go slow. But neither of us wanted to go slow that night.

When I stepped out of the elevator with my thong already soaked and my dress clinging to my sweat, I knew that tequila wasn’t going to stay just tequila.

When I went into the truck to check the pallets, he climbed in behind me. No one else was in the warehouse. And we both knew exactly what was about to happen.

Seven in the morning, my husband still asleep, and I already feel that heat settling between my legs without asking permission. Another day like this. Or worse.

She came out of the bathroom in a white blazer that barely covered anything, a red pacifier on her lips and that smile of hers. I knew that night would be different.

I’d been under the same roof as my father’s wife for four days when she left her bedroom door ajar and told me, without words, to come upstairs.

When my roommate told me, “Take me with you,” I knew that night was going to cost her more than her shyness. What I didn’t imagine was that he’d show up.

I’d spent a month dreaming of seeing him again when my roommate confessed she was jealous of me. That same night I took her with me to the rave.

Marcelo watched from the couch while Rodrigo undressed me slowly. Then my husband wanted to know something I had never told him.

Sofía told me that night her boyfriend was too much for her. I just smiled. For me, that wasn’t a problem—it was an invitation.