Boy overseas

There’s a scribbled reminder┬áto myself on my notepad at work. It says ‘Print boarding pass.’

In my 4pm meeting I draw a border round it, then another, then another. I’m running rings around it the way the boy runs rings around me.

In twelve hours time, there’ll be no more sleeps. Already, I’m no longer thinking about deadlines. I’m thinking about sucking his cock.

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Chemistry

I snuck out of the office to fuck the boy on my lunch hour the other day, which, while I could write about it at length (there’s nothing quite like returning to your desk with a guilty secret and tits streaked with dried come), isn’t the main focus of this post. It is, however, related.

I once had an argument with my mum because I’m a massive defender of the need for chemistry in any relationship. She sees no reason why you wouldn’t ultimately settle down with your best friend if your best friend is romantically interested in you, you like them, and your life goals ultimately include things like a steady, monogamous relationship and children. I think there’s no way you should settle down with your best friend unless, in addition to all of the above, they also give you the horn.

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