Threesomes & Orgies

They arrived at midnight in short dresses, fishnet stockings, and a perfume that hit me like a punch. In three weeks, my house turned into something else.

I knocked a thousand times and nobody opened. When reception let me in, I found suitcases that weren’t mine under the bed and an unmistakable smell.

Anyone would have thought we’d be sated after the banquet the night before. In this house, desire never rests, and that Sunday was about to overflow.

I woke with my body burning and my hand between my legs. I never imagined my sister would open the door that morning… or what would happen next.

My mother thought it was another man pounding her against the headboard. Beside her, my sister blew me kisses while my father punished her without mercy.

There are things I never said out loud. This is one of them: what my cousin planned with me that January, before I realized it was too late.

I came out of the shower soft and soapy, not suspecting that that afternoon a muscular stranger would turn the three of us into his obedient servants, ready for anything.

The rule was simple: keep the mask on, no talking. What Marcos didn’t know was who he was touching on his knees in my living room.

I dress like a man, but beneath my pants I wear lace. That morning, in the last subway car, someone noticed and couldn’t take his eyes off me.

At three in the morning, I pretended the blanket was covering my eyes. What I saw in my own living room I should never have seen, and yet I never looked away.

She dressed me just like her: black corset, fishnet stockings, and the same wig. That night we were going to work together for the first time, and I had no idea how far it would go.

The elevator stopped on the eighth and he got in. I had the last cash in my pocket and the certainty that something was going to happen between us that morning.

I went downstairs for water at midnight and found her awake, ready to give my wife the one lesson I had never managed to teach her.

Marina left the phone book open to the letter C. I was only going to talk about my bedroom problem, but that first appointment didn’t end as anyone would have imagined.

For a whole year I lived two lives: the perfect professional beside my partner, and the insatiable lover who returned to the hotel each night. Until television announced his death.

He came home in tears because his girlfriend had dumped him that very day. His mother only wanted to comfort him. Neither of them imagined how far it would go.

When Adrián closed his hand around her wrist and asked her to sit between them, Marisol knew she was no longer in charge of anything in that house.