Voyeur

When she finally opened her eyes, she discovered that the four armchairs around the bed were no longer empty. And then she understood what he was playing at.

They left the club at two in the morning. Renata had no idea the real show that night was playing on a screen at the foot of the bed.

“I started thinking and came up with a few ideas,” he wrote. Three hours later, a stranger was ringing our doorbell.

I’d been bathing naked in that creek for years, believing it was mine alone. That afternoon, among the brush, two young eyes watched me without shame.

For years I exposed myself in the window while no one mattered, until the night I crossed the street barefoot to kneel before the only man who dared to truly look at me.

I go naked at home because nobody can see me. Or so I thought, until the neighbor across the way greeted me with a smile that already knew everything about me.

That night I went down for a glass of water and he was awake on the sofa. What happened next in my bed, with my stepfather breathing on the other side of the door, still burns me.

For fifteen years I’d greeted him on the beach without imagining what that man saw every night through the bathroom glass while I thought I was alone.

Our bedroom window faced his rooftop exactly. That night I realized the idea of being watched aroused me more than I’d ever admit.

I opened the curtain just enough to confirm my suspicion: he was outside, with his hand inside his pants, waiting to see something he shouldn’t have seen.

I left the curtains open on purpose and pretended not to see him. He, standing on his rooftop, didn’t miss a single detail of my naked body.

I’ve spent thirty years pretending to be the modest wife my husband thinks he set free. What he doesn’t know is that on this cruise, I’m the one pulling the strings.

I turned on the system from the office just to keep an eye on the tools. What came up on the screen was my wife taking off her bikini in front of him.

—Marina, you won’t believe this: I went in to clean the room and there was a couple in the bed. And I just stood there watching from the doorway, unable to move.

You didn’t know us from Adam, but you spent the whole afternoon with your hand in your swimsuit, watching us play. And we knew it from the start.

When I felt his gaze pinned to my back from the window across the way, I knew that afternoon I wasn’t going to buy bread—I was going to give him something much better.

I never thought that seeing another man look at my naked girlfriend, legs spread open on the sand, would be the most arousing thing I’d ever feel.

We had spent months fantasizing about it. That night, as she followed the waitress up the stairs, I knew I’d be watching everything from the next room.

I’d been imagining it for weeks. That dawn I opened the gate, stepped onto the asphalt, and knew I wouldn’t stop until someone saw me.

I thought the spa was empty until I heard the laughter. Five young voices, five gazes that never left the wet white bikini against my skin.