Strangers

My wife always fantasized about another man having her in front of me. That afternoon, at a lonely stop on the highway, a stranger asked for a light and everything stopped being a game.

The phrase we always whispered in bed was spoken in a low voice in front of a real man. And this time I wasn’t going to let it stay a fantasy.

When the shop shutter locked, I knew there was no turning back: the three of us were alone, and my husband was looking at me with that complicit smile.

Every time I got up for the lighter he caught me looking, and my boyfriend smiled like he already knew how that night was going to end.

Ramiro texted me that he’d decide in the moment whether he wanted the happy ending. Neither of us imagined how far we’d go that Thursday afternoon.

Three months alone with her daughter and a cold bed. When a message offered her a summer away from everything, she never imagined two men would be waiting.

I thought it was just a routine cleaning. But when he summoned me to his house that night, I discovered he had a surprise waiting on the sofa.

“If you stay, you stay to play,” he said, looking at my friend. I only wanted him for myself, but a dark part of me wanted to see how far she’d go.

I always fell in love; she only wanted to have fun. But that night, behind a club door, I discovered something about myself I never imagined.

I work alone on the night shift and nothing ever happens. Until a red sports car stopped at the pump and out stepped the longest legs I’d ever seen.

Five minutes trapped between a wall and a throne bearer who smelled of rosemary and wood. I didn’t know his name, but I knew I’d look for him again that night.

I went up to his landing in jeans that showed everything and my heart in my throat. No one answered. When I gave up, the elevator doors opened and there he was.

For years I’d convinced myself I knew what I wanted from a woman. That night, at the bar of a nearly empty place, a stranger showed me how wrong I was.

Behind each of the three holes there could have been anyone. I couldn’t see a thing. I only felt hands, mouths, and a familiar gaze watching me from the other side.

I wore the red dress with nothing underneath. He walked behind me with his phone on, and every stare that lingered on me ended up saved in his gallery.

I handed him the folded note and a condom without saying a word. He read it, looked me over, and only said: come with me. I wasn’t thinking clearly again for hours.

I sent a photo of my open pussy from the café bathroom. What happened next, in front of that picture window, still makes my legs shake.

For twenty years I pretended I was satisfied. The night I stopped, I discovered that an experienced woman can be far more frightening than a young girl.

I went downstairs thinking I was in control. Three hours later, I was just a spectator to something that no longer belonged to me.

When lockdown was lifted, I’d been holding out for too long. I went out determined to find what I needed, never imagining it would be three at once.