Strangers

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.

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.

One summer night, a bottle game among strangers on the beach and no intention of stopping. What happened next was far more than expected.

The neighborhood boy looked me over shamelessly while I tried to keep my voice from trembling. I was forty-six, and I had a son to save.

That afternoon I decided I was going to fuck him somehow, even if I had to dress for him and come on to him without a shred of subtlety. What happened next left me shaking.

When I told my flatmate on the balcony what that stranger had done to me a month earlier, I never expected her to ask to come with me next time.

I saw him at the coast café at midday. That night he was at the club door with his security badge, and I knew I wasn’t leaving without trying him.

We had spent two years sitting across from each other without knowing we were both keeping the same secret: a parallel life full of desires no one would have guessed.

I told myself I only cut past the lot because it was the shortest way. But when his eyes followed me and his hand brushed my hip, I couldn’t lie anymore.

The club queue smelled of weed and sweat. My flatmate squeezed my hand, not really knowing what she was doing there. I just kept thinking about finding him again.

She took another sip of wine, looked at me with that smile that means a confession is coming, and started telling me what really happened that night in the rented house.

I crossed my legs, undid three buttons, and held his gaze in the rearview mirror. There was half an hour left, and I already knew we weren’t going to the hotel straight.

I went in alone, undressed slowly, and pressed the button. On the other side of the door, eight men were waiting for my signal. I had never felt so afraid and so aroused at once.

There was something about the man sleeping under the bridge that had kept me thinking for weeks. I went back that night not knowing what I hoped to find.

I’d been going to the same boring gym for weeks when the owner showed up: mid-forties, defined arms, and a calm that’s more intimidating than any gesture.