Whispers After Class

Wed, 13 May 2026 17:43:29 +0000

"You know this is wrong."
"Then stop looking at me like you want me to ruin you."

I wrote a story about wanting him--about tangled sheets, locked doors, and a mouth that ruined me in the best way.
He returned it with red ink and a warning:
"Be careful. This fantasy is dangerous."

But fantasies don't burn like this.
They don’t watch me like I’m already undressed.
And they sure as hell don’t whisper my name like it’s a sin and a prayer in the same breath.