God he’s so hot… I’m supposed to be a straight man…
Half of me wants to flirt with him, half of me wants to run away and vomit… or run away and do my makeup again… ugh how could I let him see me looking like this?
What! I look great! Wait—it doesn’t even matter. Who cares what Mark thinks? I’m supposed to be a straight guy, not this nervous simpering girl! To run off an re-do my makeup just because he looked at me and I had a crush on him would be a ridiculous, over-the-top response… so why did I really, really want to?
As Mark confidently chats with our friends, I imagine him glancing over at me with a sly smile, his eyes sparkling with intrigue. In my fantasy, he takes my hand, his touch sending a thrill through my body, and whispers in my ear with a mischievous grin.
"Let's sneak away for a moment," he suggests, his voice low and enticing.
Heart pounding, I follow Mark as he leads me up the stairs, the world around us fading into a blur of anticipation. We reach his bedroom, and he closes the door behind us.
Time slows as Mark's gaze meets mine, a magnetic pull drawing us closer. His lips brush against mine in a tantalizing kiss, igniting a fire within me. The room fills with a heady mix of desire, passion and longing.
I lose myself in the moment. As his kiss deepens, sending a surge of electricity through my body, I feel a rush of anticipation as his hand starts to trace along the strap of my dress.
In a moment of uninhibited consent, I let out a soft moan, my body language speaking volumes…
“Amelia!” a voice snaps me out of my fantasy. I look around, embarrassed. Had I moaned out loud? I feel my nether regions, aroused and my nipples feel stiff. The foreign sensations of a woman.
“Can I have a word inside?” it was Chloe talking. My face flushed with embarrassment.
I glance around. Nobody else was looking at us. I sighed in relief. Nobody had noticed ME and my fantasising. Mark was chatting to his friends.
