Voyeur

I wore my new trainers on a Saturday morning, never imagining I’d come home with my leggings wet for reasons that had nothing to do with running.

I only wanted to sleep, but the crack in the bedroom door let the light through, and my mother’s low laugh stopped me dead before I reached my room.

I confessed the fantasy at eleven thirty at night. By two in the morning, the date was locked in and I was more scared than she was.

We thought we were alone in the hidden cove, until I noticed those three wouldn’t take their eyes off us. And we didn’t mind looking back.

Tied under the lights with his gaze fixed on my back, I understood that tonight the real show was him: forced to watch everything he refused to give me.

I got on the most crowded car to escape hands I didn’t want, never imagining I’d end up wanting other hands in full view of the platform.

Two strangers filmed me from under the table while he ordered me to stay still. The worst part was that I loved being the show everyone was watching.

She was cleaning the terrace in a thong and little else, not knowing two men were spying on her from across the building. And me, seeing her desired, drove me insane.

My owner planted the idea like a seed: money for my body and a stranger watching every detail. That Tuesday afternoon I went to fulfill it, not knowing how it would end.

She slowly spread her knees until I understood that little show under the table was for me, and for no one else in the whole café.

From the darkness I watched her move on top of him, and I understood I no longer knew whether it hurt more to watch or to want to keep watching.

I’d entered her tower to settle an old debt. What I hadn’t expected was to stand frozen behind the curtain, holding my breath, unable to look away.

We went to Formentera so people could watch her. I never imagined how far she’d be willing to go when that foreigner spread his towel just a few meters from us.

She chose the shortest skirt and left without underwear. At that hour the stranger on the platform was always there, and this time she wasn’t going to move away.

I went into the third fitting room, left the curtain exactly how I like it, and when I looked up I caught her looking inside. One of mine, I thought.

I knew he went around the house without a bra. What I didn’t know was that he counted every time, and kept a wet souvenir under his pillow.

She came out of the water slowly, knowing the sheer fabric no longer hid a thing, and wrung the hair from her face in front of us as if she had all the time in the world.

When the pearl-gray Audi stopped in front of the booth and I saw those parted legs in the passenger seat, I knew my shift was about to change forever.

I turned off the laundry-room light and looked toward the picture window of C. It was quarter past three in the morning. The girl opposite had come back. And she hadn't come back alone.

The seat beside him was occupied by her, with those crossed legs in the dim light. She said it was better to talk it through with me than with strangers. I had no idea where it would lead us.