"Come here," he says, pulling my arm and attempting to draw me away from the crowd. I stand still but make to attempt to get him to let go of my arm. I cast a fleeting glance over my shoulder; assessing the likelihodd that anyone will see me walk away with him. I'm thinking "I should just say no. I shouldn't be considering it. I shouldn't even be talking to him. He is not my man, not the one I should be doing this with". But I look at his face, glance back at the crowd one more time. And I go.
The details of what happens next don’t matter, it’s the illicit nature of the act that thrills. Knowing that he shouldn’t be touching me there, I shouldn’t be whispering that. We shouldn’t be this close to each other. The sexual charge of knowing that what I’m doing is wrong is what makes it feel so fucking right.
What could be more exhilarating than sitting at a table with a group of friends and family, nodding and smiling at the discussion of the day as a hand beneath the table slides up your thigh, gently stroking your pussy? Or sitting on a crowded bus, your phone against your ear listening to a man tell you exactly what he wants to do to you, struggling to remain quiet while you play with yourself? Sinking to your knees in a darkened movie theatre; hoping the sound effects of the film will drown out his groans as you take him in your mouth, he takes you by the hair, and you suck him to the promised land?
Nothing gets your motor running like doing what you’re not supposed to be doing in a place you’re not supposed to be doing it. Except doing it with someone you shouldn’t be touching.
Your homegirl’s man stroking your clit in a crowded room. Your friend’s girl whispering hot talks in your ear; her mouth so close that the heat of her breath sends shock waves to your dick. A jolt of electricity when your boss gently grazes your nipples as he hands you a file. The epic, mind-blowing nut that follows fucking the ex you swore you’d never fuck again.
It’s that moment. The moment when you decide to do something you know you shouldn’t do, when you decide to fuck the person you’re not supposed to fuck, that makes the allure of the forbidden so hard to resist. The inner conflict when you struggle to focus on the future consequences, but all you can think about is the immediate pleasure. Your heart pounding, your chest heaving, the throbbing pulse in your pussy. Everything in your mind screaming no while your body screams yes. please. NOW. The falling off a cliff feeling that comes the moment you decide to give in. When you let your base desire overpower your judgement. When you submit to your primal nature and say yes it’s wrong but do it to me anyway.
Forbidden is wrong. It’s bad. But it feels so fucking good.
Anybody feel me on this?