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Secretly, I wished that were me.
As I started my double for the day, right at the seven o’clock hour, the store was still empty. It would be filling up soon with people rushing to buy gum, cigarettes, and lunch for their work day.
I stood alone, my legs and back aching, checking myself out in a small mirror I kept on the side of my register. I was exhausted, but I didn’t look so bad. My eyes were slightly red but my reddish hair was still pulled back into a tight ponytail. My lipstick needed a little touch up on my next break.
Beyond the stuff I could fix, I thought my face was pretty cute. My cheeks were a little bit chubby but I knew a lot of the guys at work thought I was attractive. One of the young baggers called me a MILF once when he thought I wasn’t listening.
A MILF. A Mom I’d Like To Fuck. Nice. I’ll take that.
Thinking about it made me kind of excited. I sat down on my swivel chair and thought about the kid. He wasn’t a kid really. Maybe eighteen. Okay, a kid but why is it okay for my husband to fuck a girl a year older than that and I can’t even fantasize about it?
Exactly.
He was a strong kid with a big powerful chest, short hair, and a wisecracking grin. He was the store clown but he was quite good looking.
How would it happen? How would it be possible?
To me, that’s the key to fantasy. Just imagining it is not enough. I have to envision how it would possibly happen. It can’t be the fake porn kind of scenario.
You know, where the guy shows up to fix the girl’s sink and she says, “But I don’t even have a sink” and then lets him in anyway. Suddenly he’s giving her that gigantic plumber’s pipe.
So how would Jimmy the bag boy make it work? Let’s say he offered to give me a ride home from work. Then, while in his car, he tells me that my shirt must’ve gotten dirty at work and offers to have his mom clean it for me back at his place…
See? No, that’s where the fantasy has to stop. It’s not real. How could I imagine a guy bending me over his washing machine if he just mentioned he could have his mom, his MOM wash my shirt.
These are the kind of internal arguments I have with myself all the time. In reality, Jimmy didn’t say any of this, but I’ve already ruled him out as a potential fuck.
How do men do it? How do they set themselves up for a one-night-stand or just a quick lunchtime fuck at the office? I can’t even make it through a damned fantasy of my own.
Let’s stop the sneak peek there. Just know that Gina does figure out how to have a proper fantasy…and then her fantasy becomes a reality.
Keep your eyes open for Checking Him Out (A Single Mom’s Erotic Fantasy) by Chris Genovese.
Thanks again for reading,
