Taboo

He knew exactly what he was doing beneath that blanket. And I chose not to pull away. What came after changed our dynamic forever.

She came into the office in an old T-shirt with nothing underneath, biting an olive and looking at me like she’d spent months waiting for me to give in first.

I was seventeen, and the heat wouldn’t let me sleep. I went into his room looking for water and found something I’d never forget.

Claudia showed up at her son’s place not knowing we were waiting. Work uniform, tired eyes. No one prepared her for what was coming.

I went into the confessional with shame and came out knowing that what my son felt for me was not so different from what I was beginning to feel for him.

She didn’t teach me out of love. She taught me because no one else was going to, and because, deep down, it was what we both needed.

His hand was where it shouldn’t have been, and my voice was whispering things no son should hear. But neither of us wanted to stop.

When he hugged me from behind and I felt his body against mine, we both knew it had a name no one dared to say aloud.

Valeria was twenty-five, my father’s wife, and she looked at me as if she didn’t know whether to hate me or devour me. I didn’t know either.

She showed him the photos with a nervous smile. It took him three seconds to understand what he was looking at, and three more to decide he wasn’t going to stop.

We had spent three months coordinating every detail. When Diego opened the door and I saw his mother behind him, I knew there was no turning back for any of us four.

I came home from university exhausted and flopped onto the bed without even taking off my shoes. I don’t know how long I slept. When I opened my eyes, he was already sitting beside me.

I subscribed without thinking. It was her face, her body, her voice. And I, her father, couldn’t look away from the screen.

Nadia arrived that morning with a bag of soft drinks and very short jeans. We hadn’t been alone together in years. I didn’t know that was about to change.

It was late, we were alone at home, and Mom began talking about something she never should have told us. By the time I wanted to stop her, I no longer wanted her to stop.

We lived in the same apartment, naked, unable to touch each other. He looked at me as if he meant to devour me. A month of abstinence before he earned it.

Marcos was crying with rage in that adjustable bed, convinced he would never feel a woman again. I locked the door and took off my clothes.

We’d been locked up for days when the conversation turned dangerous. His confession in the dark ended with my hands on him.

At three in the morning I went to the bathroom with her smell still on my skin, and when I came back to bed I saw a slit of light under the door across the hall. Someone was watching us.

When my mother called to say she’d be alone that weekend, I had no idea what she had planned for me that night.