Nymph

Months after the first encounter, Rafaela and I met again. This time I would discover she had a boyfriend — and that maybe, after all, she really was a professional.

It was around 2016, maybe 2017. Back then swingers’ social networks still had some innocence to them, and it was on one of those sites that I stumbled onto Rafaela’s profile. The cover photo said everything: skinny thing, ass disproportionate to the rest of her body, a look that knew you’d click. And I clicked.

We traded messages. First the usual internet banter, then things got more direct. She opened up fast: she liked getting gifts. I returned the honesty: I liked being dominated, the whole cuckold thing, that grey zone between submission and voyeurism I was still learning to name. Neither of us seemed scared. If anything, that sealed the deal faster than any pickup line could.