Voyeur

At three in the morning Andrés knocked on our door. What happened after that in the lower bunk was watched by my twin from the one above.

I’d spent the whole morning in my robe, in front of the computer, until something moved behind the window of the block across the way and I knew that day would be different.

I had been lying in my hammock for weeks, rubbing myself with oil and closing my eyes, until one afternoon I felt someone watching me through the cypresses.

The bathroom mirror was directly across from the bunk beds. That night I found out why my roommate had moved it without saying a word.

That morning I opened the curtains intending to watch the maids. I never imagined a stranger in the opposite window would be the one who couldn’t take her eyes off me.

I peeked without thinking and saw the three of them bathing naked in the neighbor’s pool. That same night I understood that watching from hiding could also be a way of touching.

That morning she thought she was alone. I shut my office door, asked not to be disturbed, and opened the app just as she walked into the bedroom.

I never thought watching a stranger touch herself at dawn would ignite such a strong desire in me that I’d end up in a park that same night, losing all shame.

I started with mirrors on the floor and ended up discovering my naked neighbor from my terrace. Each fleeting glimpse became a drug.

I whispered my fantasy in her ear in the middle of the packed train car. She was startled, then bit my lip, and I knew that night we were heading to a hotel.

When I knelt in the sand with the sun beating on my back, I never imagined someone was watching every move from the other side of the crag.

The first customer asked for something that wasn’t in my contract. When I got back to the room, Salvador was breathing like he’d been awake for hours.

Her boyfriend played with his phone a meter away while she left the fitting-room curtain half open and, every time she undressed, checked that I was still there.

I thought I’d put her in her place. That afternoon, as I came out of the bathroom, I heard a zipper coming down behind the half-open office door.

The theater was almost empty. My husband got up for the drinks and, before leaving, had pulled up my skirt and sweater just enough for his friend to be unable to look away.

I never saw them. I only heard every word, every blow of the headboard against the wall, and suddenly their pleasure was mine too.