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“You can’t laugh at me if I tell you. You asked,” I say as I turn a little red, laughing into my glass of wine. We’re seated across from each other at our dining room table, already nearly done with the bottle.
It’s been a long couple of weeks, and we’ve decided to have our usual date night at home. Make a nice dinner, get a little tipsy, and then fool around before falling asleep on the couch— maybe a little ordinary, but it works for us.
I roll up the sleeves of my white button down, trying to put the words together in my brain before I say them.
“My biggest fantasy? We order a pizza, the guy comes to the door, and you’re wearing something, you know, slutty. And then maybe I watch you guys fool around, or something.”
I laugh as I say it. I try to walk it back, and make it clear that it’s just a dumb fantasy— something I think about when you’re out of town. It’s not something I’d ever expect or ask for in a million years.
Across town, Griffin is pulling his car into the parking lot of the little family pizza joint he delivers for. It’s just a temporary job, of course— he’s back home from college for the Summer, and just needs to make a couple of bucks.
He groans as he grabs his stupid hat and makes his way into the building, no clue that he’s about to have a great night.
—
Shoot me a message if you’re interested! Would love to see what directions this could go.
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