Voyeur

She thought she was alone in her private cove. Hidden behind the dunes, I memorized every curve of her body before the waves dressed her again.

I showed up unannounced, dressed to provoke. What I didn't expect was that my boyfriend's brother would make the most of every second we spent alone.

When I went down the bar’s stairs, I knew that man was staring at me openly. And the worst part was that with every step, I wanted him to look more.

I’m fascinated by watching and being watched. That night on the sand, as Ingrid undressed before me beneath the moon, I finally understood it completely.

I pressed myself against the hallway wall, holding my breath. On the other side of the door, the two voices I least expected to hear together sought each other in the darkness.

He didn’t ask me to stop. He asked for a place behind the half-open door, in silence, to watch what he no longer knew how to give his own wife.

It was eleven at night, the street was empty, and I decided to take my clothes off right there. I had no idea someone staggering on the corner was watching me.

For months, we played at letting others watch her without her knowing. That night, with two friends on the sofa, I discovered she had controlled the game from the start.

I had never kissed a woman. In the mirror of her foyer, I understood that afternoon would involve far more than watching.

The two towels on the rack told me I wasn’t alone. The smart thing would have been to leave. Instead, I stayed pressed against the glass.