Voyeur

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 client asked me for something that wasn’t in my contract. When I went 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.

I knew the exact time she’d be back. I left the door half open, turned off the light, and waited to hear her footsteps in the hallway before I started.

My wife thought the game was over when the technician left. She didn’t know the hidden camera had recorded everything, and that my excitement had only just begun as I watched from the office.

I went upstairs to use the bathroom and he was waiting for me with his fly open. What I didn’t count on was someone opening the door just when we were on all fours.

Turning off the light would have been the sensible thing. But that night, on the ninth floor of an empty hotel, the last thing I wanted was to go unnoticed.

I knew him when he was shy and fragile, when his name was Tomás. Ten years later he came back through the door in a miniskirt, with a smile that promised to ruin my summer.

I asked her to put on the shortest shorts she owned. I wanted to see how the workers looked at her as she walked by, and how she endured the whole day in that outfit.

She was sipping her gin and tonic when two men sat beside her and told her about a film. By the time she finished her drink, she had already signed.

I’d booked the place for our anniversary, but she beat me to it: the hostel was the headquarters of a private club, and that night the red button was beside the bed.

At eighteen, I had never been with a woman. The last thing I expected was for my first time to come with the housekeeper who walked into my room to clean.

The salsa was playing louder than usual. I pressed myself against the wall, found the gap between the curtains, and what I saw on the other side erased my idea of family forever.

I opened my eyes in the middle of the dark living room, and she was standing in the doorway, biting her lip and looking at exactly what I couldn’t hide.

All he had to do was watch. No touching, no talking. But when she slid her panties to the floor of the carriage, he no longer knew where to look.

Behind each of the three holes there could have been anyone. I couldn’t see a thing. I only felt hands, mouths, and a familiar gaze watching me from the other side.