I knew it was wrong. I knew it, but that didn’t stop me.
My dad’s best friend Mark has known me since I was a kid. He’s always been around, family BBQs, holidays, casual visits. But something changed when I turned 18. The way he looked at me was different. I noticed.
Now, at 20, I really noticed.
Last weekend, my parents had a get-together and Mark was there, looking too good in a tight black shirt. We flirted subtly, lingering touches, stolen glances. When I went to grab something from the garage fridge, he followed me. You shouldn’t tease me like that, he murmured, stepping closer.I should have walked away. Instead, I let him press me against the wall, his hands sliding up my thighs. It was fast, reckless, his hand over my mouth, my legs wrapped around his waist, both of us trying not to make a sound.
After, I fixed my dress and walked back inside like nothing happened. But the way he smirked at me from across the room, I know it’s going to happen again. 🙂
