SKYLER
The rich scentof fresh coffee wafts around me as I sit down at my usual table in the corner of my favorite café on campus, The Tea Nook.
I place my large iced coffee and breakfast sandwich on the table before pulling out my laptop. As I wait for it to boot up, I take a large bite of my egg-and-cheese sandwich and hold back a moan. It’s the first thing I’ve had to eat today, so it tastes like absolute heaven.
I log onto my webhost’s dashboard and pull up the draft of my latest blog post. I started a blog a little under two years ago, and even though it’s not viral by any means, I post consistently enough to attract a small but dedicated readership. I mostly focus on body-positive photos and concepts, different ways to help my small following break through their own biases and mental barriers.
A few months ago, I started occasionally posting nude photos of myself doing yoga. Nothing too scandalous and I never show my face in any of them. It was an idea I’d been toying around with for a while, a radical step toward getting over my own personal body hang-ups. I decided to pull the trigger after a reader left a heartbreaking comment on one of my posts saying she felt “too big to do yoga.”
I wanted to show her that yoga can be versatile and beneficial, no matter your size or range of motion. I firmly believe that everyone should feel comfortable in their own skin, especially while working out. So I stripped off my clothes and snapped a few photos of myself in beginner poses. I wanted to show the world that curvy girls deserve representation in the exercise world, too.
The results were better than I could have predicted: my dedicated followers told me how happy they were to see someone who looks like them be at ease while exercising. I picked up more readers over the following months, many of whom shared their experiences of attending their first yoga classes in the comments. What’s been most affirming is the level of support my readers have shown to each other; it’s a beautiful thing to witness.
I read and respond to a few new comments on old posts before uploading a picture I took during my workout this morning. It’s a photo of me in the downward-facing dog position, with my long hair covering my face and the sunlight shimmering on my skin. Today will be the third day in a row that I’ve posted a nude photo. Normally, I only post one or two a month, but I’ve been feeling myself more than usual lately.
Ever since Ben drove me home a few days ago, I’ve felt confident and desirable in a way that no one has ever made me feel before.
The intensity in his gaze when I returned his jacket has been seared into my brain. Whenever I think about those heavy, hooded eyes tracing my facial features, my internal temperature rises, and I feel my panties dampen.
And although it was totally inappropriate, I couldn’t resist touching myself to the thought of his hands and mouth on my body.
I ran back to my apartment, soaked in more ways than one. My skin felt extra sensitive as I peeled off the wet layers of clothing and drew myself a bath. I tried to ignore the ache in my pussy. I promise, I really did. But as I basked in the warm water, I couldn’t stop my hand from gingerly brushing down my stomach to rest between my thighs. I imagined Ben’s fingertips rubbing my clit, his thick fingers pumping inside me. When I brought my other hand up to caress my chest, I pictured his mouth closing around my breast and his tongue teasing my hardened nipples.
Ben’s body would feel so good pressed against me; I just know it. I imagined his hips slotting between my thighs as he rocked into me, the rasp in his voice as he told me how good I felt around him. I’ve never had penetrative sex with another person, but I’ve used toys. I couldn’t stop my hips from bucking in the bathtub, spilling water over the edge.
Afterward, I told myself that was the only time I was going to masturbate while fantasizing about my boss.
That was a lie.
The next morning, my hand slid into my sleep shorts unbidden as I laid in bed. Shifting onto my stomach, I saw Ben in my mind’s eye, his usually serious features softened by a smirk. I imagined him grabbing onto my hips and shoving his cock into me, hard and fast. I started panting within minutes, and I came just like I’d come the day before, hard, with Ben’s name on my lips.
It doesn’t matter how many times I scold myself or promise myself that I won’t think about Ben that way. I can’t stop. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal if I only saw him occasionally, but I work with this man. In fact, I’m pretty much guaranteed to see him tonight since I have a class to teach.
I don’t know what I’ll do when I see him. Part of me desperately wants to talk to him again so I can bask in his attention like a cat napping in the sun. But another part of me wants to avoid him at all costs, knowing how strongly my body will react to his presence.
Simply thinking about Ben makes my pulse race and my pussy throb. What’s going to happen when he’s standing in front of me?
Even now, as I sip on my coffee, I have to cross my legs to relieve some of the pressure my thoughts have built up.
I sigh and prop my head on my hand. I’m so totally fucked, and I know it.
Turning back to my laptop, I type the caption, “You deserve to feel beautiful every morning,” beneath my most recent nude-yoga photo, and then publish the post to my blog.
I’m just about done with my breakfast sandwich when a familiar sparkly bag catches my eye. The person holding it shifts it higher on her shoulder, and I confirm that it is in fact Crystal waiting in line to order. She has her head down, her gaze aimed at her phone.
And, of course, Nate is with her...
He slides his hands into his pockets as our eyes lock. He flashes me a wolfish sneer that sends a chill down my back, then wraps his arm around Crystal’s small waist, pulling her against him. The gesture causes her to look up and notice me. Her expression hardens as she turns toward Nate, tucking herself against his chest.
My hands ball into fists on the table as anger rises within me.
Nate’s cruel smirk remains frozen on his face. He stares me down, pressing his lips to the top of Crystal’s head before finally turning away to place his order with the barista.
I actively work to keep my breathing under control so I don’t fly across the café and slap him. Nate stares at me with a look of smug triumph on his face, like he’s won. Not only has he turned Crystal against me, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s managed to isolate her from her other friends and family. I never see her out with anyone besides Nate anymore. He’s taken control of her life, and he has the audacity to throw his personal victory in my face every time I see him.
With more force than is necessary, I slam my laptop closed. The chair screeches as I slide back from the table, pack up my things, and storm out of the café, purposefully taking the exit farthest from Crystal and Nate.
This isn’t over, asshole. Someday, Crystal’s going to see right through your bullshit.
I just hope that day comes sooner rather than later, for her sake.