Seduced by my Bosses
I’m average height, with curves that refuse to be tamed and breasts too full for most of my blouses.
So I stay silent. I pretend not to care.
Instead, I come home, peel off my clothes, and lie in bed with one hand between my thighs and the other gripping a toy—pretending it’s him. I close my eyes and imagine his voice growling my name, his mouth on my skin, his fingers replacing mine. I thrust, moan, and shudder, chasing the orgasm like it’s his mouth driving me over the edge.
I know it’s wrong. But in the dark, with my fantasies wrapped tight around me, he’s mine. Even if only in my dreams.
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