I’ve only ever been with one person, and I’ve faked it every time.
You are an amazing person, so amazing that I think everyone else notices as well. But that’s okay, because I only want you for one thing. You’re a genuinely nice guy, and so successful in life. I think the fact that you’re a catch makes it easier for me to accept the dirty things I want to do to you.
Everyone thinks I’m pure. I’m quiet, conservative, and repressed.
I don’t have to be your girl, even though I’d love to be. I just want you to touch me. I want to touch you. I fantasize about tricking you into following me into a public bathroom – maybe at a fancy restaurant so that it’s even less expected – and demanding you to drop your pants. I’d go on my knees, finish you, and leave. I picture you leaning against the wall, bewildered yet ecstatic. We’d finish dinner, with our friends, and go back to your place. You’d reward me for my brazenness.
It’s summer, and finally warm. I want to be on top of you while you lay on the grass. In front of you, on the hood of your car. You’re still confused, but too thrilled to ask me anything more. But still, I think you’d wonder how someone like me could want to do things like that to you.
You seem discrete, and would keep our adventures to yourself. I have a reputation I’d like to maintain, and honestly, the halo above my head that everyone else sees just makes it all the more fun.
When I find the courage to break up with him, I’ll try to find the courage to be more forward with you. In the end, I don’t want to fake it.