Voyeur

When I went up to his room to see why he hadn’t come down for lunch, my son asked me to close the door. He had something to show me on his cellphone.

I caught her naked in bed, with two fingers buried in her cunt. What I didn’t expect was for my own mother to show up and join the game without asking.

I loved her more than I had ever loved anyone, but I couldn’t stop imagining another man inside her, moaning louder than she ever moaned for me.

I handed my husband the laptop with the folder open. Twenty-odd emails from men who never imagined their director would send them something like that.

I thought everyone was asleep when I got naked in the pool. Then I heard the kitchen door and saw her silhouette approaching, not hurrying to look away.

We’d been in a comfortable rut for months. That afternoon in the pine grove, with another couple three meters away, my girlfriend decided she was done waiting for me to do everything.

The sun burned our naked skin while Damián split me open without mercy, and in the water, a few meters away, my mother discovered that she was hungry too.

I pulled a dildo from the drawer that still smelled of her and found her with her gaze lowered, biting her lip as if I’d caught her in something more intimate than a secret.

When I looked out the window of my new room and saw them naked in the pool, I knew that year would teach me far more than biochemistry.

It started like any other night in front of the screen, but when I hit send on that message, I knew there was no turning back.

She’d been dimmed for years by a deep pain, until that grave voice filled the room and I saw her eyes shine again like when I first met her.

When I opened my eyes that morning, I wasn’t in my room. I was completely naked in a bed that smelled like someone I should never have spent the night with.

She opened the door in a white nightgown, barefoot. My girlfriend was asleep in the other room and my best friend was still on the terrace. I didn’t know how to move.

When he took off his T-shirt in my living room, I recognized the tattoo my wife zoomed in on every night. The anonymous single was there, sweaty and smiling.

Carla came out from between Lucía’s thighs with shining lips, looked at me from the sand, and I knew my quiet afternoon was over for good.

Mateo promised he’d watch everything from his table, but when two strangers started touching me at once, his silence scared me as much as their hands.

When I walked into her room I thought we were just going to talk. Ten minutes later I was in my boxers, trembling, and I heard the door open again behind me.

I closed my eyes on the wall and spread my legs a little farther. The wind did the rest. I knew they were watching me, and that was exactly what I wanted.

In that narrow stall, with the stranger’s footsteps echoing just beyond the partition, I learned that silence can be a desperate kind of orgasm.