I take a sip of my ginger ale. The residue from my gulp drips off my lip down the glass. My painted black thumbnail catches the bottom of the drip. I’m holding my phone with my left hand, scrolling through a new work crush on Instagram.
He has a girlfriend. She’s a redhead, like me. He’s clearly a good boyfriend. Truth be told, I’ve been fantasizing about grabbing his collar and whispering into his ear at the staff holiday party, “fuck me.” He would turn to me with shock and panic filled eyes. Poor boy.
I want to ruin him. I want him to join me in the dark side of love and sex. The side where rules don’t apply and you act with your body. Consensual urges, of course. I want him to have some fun. Meet a girl in a hotel room on a whim and do things in bed that his girlfriend never bothered to introduce him to. Wait… should I just be a prostitute? That’s kind of their whole profession, isn’t it? Damnit.
I realize this doesn’t make me sound like the best person to be around your boyfriend. But I can assure you I don’t get crushes often. I’m not going to go around stealing all your boyfriends… Just a few.
Hi. My name is Ally, and I want to fuck your boyfriend. I have a problem because the very notion of fucking your boyfriend… turns me on. My panties are wet just typing this. I’d always be game for a threesome, but something tells me she’s not into that.
He works weekends. The office gets quiet then. We often meet at the photocopier to banter about the latest office gossip. I want to do something surprising. Something shocking for him. I want to pin him against the machine with one hand on his belt. Cupping his package tightly with my left hand.
I want him to know I’m here to fuck him and that I want his body.
He keeps his hands off me because he’s still not sure if he should touch me. He doesn’t want to be held accountable. I’m fine with taking the blame.
I crouch down in my high heels as I unzip his pants. I lick the tip of his cock gently. As I look up at him I whisper, “take this cock and fuck me.”
I want men to get so into the moment they don’t think about anything. No consequences. No moral questions. Nothing. There’s a part of me that feels evil fantasizing about these things; and worse, acting on them. To all the men reading this, wishing that one woman in their office would do this to them…that’s who I do it for.
The inner desires you don’t say out loud.