After my freshman year, I worked at a pizza place for the summer, and that’s where I met Jake. He was a local guy in his late 20s, charming, funny, and… engaged. We’d chat during shifts, laughing a lot, and it was pretty obvious there was something unspoken between us. Every time I walked by, I’d feel his eyes following me, and of course, I played into it. I’d “accidentally” brush against him or bend over just a little too slowly whenever I needed something.

One night after closing, I casually asked him for a ride home. I could see the hesitation in his eyes, but he agreed. The drive started off quiet, the air between us almost suffocating with tension. When we pulled up in front of my place, I thanked him for the ride, and as he looked at me, something in the moment just clicked. I couldn’t help myself, I leaned over and kissed him. For a second, I thought he might stop me. But he didn’t. Instead, he kissed me back, and the passion that had been building all summer finally came pouring out. We were making out in the driveway, I slid my hand down and felt how ready he was. I unzipped his pants and leaned down on him. His breathing grew heavier as I worked him over, finishing him off, and I swallowed every drop.

With a soft smile, I said goodnight and slipped out of the car. He didn’t come inside that night; it was too risky for him, and we both knew it. The next day at work, we didn’t say a word about what happened, but there was this smirk on his face whenever our eyes met. It was like a silent agreement, we both knew it was a one time thing, something just between us.