Voyeur

It was one in the morning and your hand was on my thigh as if the taxi driver didn’t exist. What happened next still keeps me awake.

Sandra and I found them in the jacuzzi. Pablo was fucking my girl, Lucía, without realizing we had an audience. The night had barely begun.

The chat was burning with lingerie photos and promises of fire. Six people, three couples, one cabin. What happened that weekend stayed between us.

The couples' game began as an innocent bet by the pool. By nightfall, none of them could quite remember where one body ended and the next began.

I saw him for the first time across the pool while Marcos signed papers. Something in the way he looked at me told me that night would not end like the others.

The gym owner asked her to take all her clothes off. I nodded calmly and waited. What happened next was better than any fantasy.

We arrived not knowing what awaited us. We left changed. An estate, seven men, and a stranger who decided I would be his that night.

He heard her go into the bathroom at the same hour three nights in a row. On the fourth, he stopped in the hallway. Just to look once, he told himself.

Natalia had never slept in the same room with me. That night in Cartagena I discovered she didn’t mind being naked in front of me either.

The man put his hand on Lucía’s skirt and she didn’t move. I was crushed among bodies and what I felt was not what I expected from myself.

When I asked her to open her legs a little and the guy in the back couldn’t stop staring, I knew that fantasy was only the beginning.

The door to his office was ajar. What I saw when I peeked in did not make me jealous. It made me want something I hadn't expected.

I asked her to wear the shortest skirt she owned and wait for the delivery driver. I hid behind the sofa. What happened went beyond anything we'd imagined.

We’d been trading looks and brushing against each other at the gym for weeks when Bruno invited me to dinner. I didn’t expect what he’d ask me sitting across from him, with Nadia waiting in the other room.

I asked him to meet me outside the clinic as if we were going to have a quiet talk. I didn’t tell him I wouldn’t be alone—or that the sidewalk was perfectly visible from the second floor.

She was 59, blonde, with curves that made no apologies. I was her favorite nephew, and for days I’d been glancing at her sideways, unable to stop.

I thought the house next door had been empty for months. When the study light came on one night, I discovered I had been someone’s show for weeks.

Rebeca started dancing in the middle of the living room and I stopped thinking about dinner. Marcos watched us from the sofa, his eyes burning.

I knew them from when I dated their daughter. Years later I ran into them on the coast, and something in Valeria’s eyes told me that summer would be different.

Every time she squeezed my hand, I understood it: she was crossing and uncrossing her legs so he could see everything.