I’d been talking to you at work for a while and could tell we were feeling eachother, and we danced around it for months. Finally, we were texting one Sunday afternoon and I told you I was doing laundry. You said you love doing laundry, I said I hated it, and you volunteered to come over and do it for me. I obviously loved the idea and you arrived about an hour later.
I was folding clothes in my bedroom when you rang the doorbell, and you looked great. Jean skirt with a tank top, with a little SoCal glisten that happens in late summer from the heat. We walked to my room and you started folding as we began to chat.
I told you that you were doing a great job, and that you were never allowed to leave! You smiled and shook your head without saying a word:
“What is it?” I asked.
“I kind of feel weird saying this but I have a fantasy where I’m trapped somewhere by a man and I can’t escape. He has his way with me and I try to get away but can’t.”