Strangers

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.

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.

I thought the steam room was mine alone, along with my toys. Then the door opened and a very tall stranger looked at me without any hurry to cover herself.

She had spent years going to that club alone, waiting for a glance that would stay on her. That night, unknown fingers took her hand and dragged her into the dark.

She sat down across from me in a nearly empty bar, took my hands, and told me I looked sad. Three hours later I was naked in her bed, and I didn’t want to leave.

I only wanted a phone to call a tow truck. I ended up between two strangers who decided that quiet night included me.

She arrived on my friend’s arm, with that mouth and those full lips, and I knew right away that on my birthday she was going to be mine, even if she was another man’s girlfriend.

She accepted the invitation to pay her cheating boyfriend back in kind and chose the fine-featured zombie, not imagining what she would discover when she took off the costume.

We arrived revving the bike so everyone would look. But I only had eyes for the girl in the next tent and for what we were going to share that night.

I was wearing a too-tight red dress and had just turned forty-two when that blonde woman put her hand on my waist and pulled me against her.

I hadn’t felt anything for months. Then she came in behind me in the stall, locked the door, and everything I thought I knew about myself came crashing down.

It wasn’t sale season and the store was empty. The blonde saleswoman followed me into the fitting room with an excuse, and I left the curtain open on purpose.

All it took was for her to tilt her head toward the back door for me to set my glass on the bar and follow her without thinking twice.

I arrived single and bored, planning to leave early. Then the lambada started, and firm hands took my waist from behind.

She showed up twenty minutes late on purpose so we wouldn’t have time to go to the theater. Only then did I realize she’d already decided how the night would end.

She carried a pistol hidden in her stocking and an impossible mission: get close to the most dangerous woman in the room without desire betraying her too soon.

When she sat at the bar and smiled at me, I thought we’d only share a drink. I never imagined that a few hours later I’d be naked, waiting for her next order.

When I got to the bar, my wife was no longer alone: a stranger was caressing her waist, and the only thing I didn’t want was for her to stop.

High heels, rebellious hair, and a black dress worth more than my whole wardrobe. I showed up in ripped jeans and military boots. Neither of us had come to chat.

She pushed me against the wall with a slow kiss, lowered her voice to a whisper, and told me I’d be a good girl. I never knew her name, but I obeyed her.