Strangers

You didn’t know us from Adam, but you spent the whole afternoon with your hand in your swimsuit, watching us play. And we knew it from the start.

She was crying drunk on my shoulder, saying nobody wanted her anymore. She had no idea that that very night, on the sand, I was going to prove exactly the opposite.

I never thought that seeing another man look at my naked girlfriend, legs spread open on the sand, would be the most arousing thing I’d ever feel.

We had spent months fantasizing about it. That night, as she followed the waitress up the stairs, I knew I’d be watching everything from the next room.

I had just come out of the shower when I saw her message on the screen. She wasn’t what I was looking for, but her photo changed my plans that very afternoon.

I thought the spa was empty until I heard the laughter. Five young voices, five gazes that never left the wet white bikini against my skin.

I stopped at the light out of curiosity. An hour later I was on my back, asking her to take it slow, discovering a side of myself I’d spent years pretending didn’t exist.

I went downstairs in the middle of the night for a glass of water. The back bedroom door was half open, and from inside came a faint light and two conspiratorial laughs.

My ad was always for men. But that afternoon, when I read her message, I knew I was about to break my own rule and complicate my life.

The gym stud who humiliated me in front of half the gym wrote me from a dating app fifty meters from my place. Fifteen minutes later, he was ringing my doorbell.

It was almost eleven when the elevator dropped me at the empty parking garage. I had no idea those keys would cost me so much, and so little, at the same time.

That afternoon I turned the telescope expecting nothing new, and I saw her: kneeling on the chair, oblivious to the fact that a stranger thirty meters away was watching her in silence.

When she told me the total and I counted the bills, I knew I was short by four thousand. I looked at her, leaned on the counter, and whispered something in her ear.

I rented the room and turned off the lights, letting myself be spoiled like never before. Until my hand moved between her legs and found something I’d never imagined.

He spent years with his ear pressed to the walls of cheap motels. One night he found a forum promising more: booths with a view of other people’s pleasure.

I climbed the stairs barely able to walk, my dress reeking of the whole night. I had no idea my mom was awake, waiting for me in the hallway.

I had never gone out into the street dressed like that. That morning, with the house all to myself, I decided it was the day to fulfill the fantasy that had been keeping me awake.

Her nickname said “active transvestite,” and I’d only had one experience so far. That afternoon, in a hotel near the subway, I learned what it was to be truly dominated.

I got off the bus with my head full of class and my body full of something else. Twenty minutes later I was in a stranger’s car, learning what I’d never dared to ask.

For days I had felt eyes fixed on the back of my neck while I played. That Friday I locked the doors and came down from the stage determined to find her.