‎⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ kenny baby ‎⋆˚𝜗𝜚

my secret diary + exhibitionist submissions <3 switch • 26 • mdni • bi https://linktr.ee/balletcoregf

[balletcoregf]

[balletcoregf]

since I discorvered you I've been a bit shy to interact with you because you look like a very expensive girl, you deserve to have everything you want but I'm a guy from a not very wealthy country that was bombed recently and I don't have the purchasing power of people from more developed countries and that makes me so insecure to approach to you, apart from that I wanna thank you because your daily posts make my life a bit better during these hard times ❤️

you never know until you ask <3 my prices are pretty reasonable because i genuinely do this for fun!!

[ownedbyken]

Her, again.

I arrive to the café earlier than usual, it's busier than a typical morning rush. The storm above has pushed more people inside to get something warm, something sweet. The air is filled with the scent of freshly baked cakes and coffee, but all I can think about is the smell of her. It's much louder, much more chaotic but I'm able to get to my usual spot, and I place my jacket on the chair next to me, for her.

Every time the door opened my eyes widened and my back straightened. Not her. In and out customers went, and as time went on my heart only beat faster and faster. The anticipation only growing with every door slam. It felt like a million years, waiting for the break in the storm, waiting for the warmth to enter the café like it did every time I watched her walk through the very door I'm staring at right now, the one she knew I was waiting for her to do every time.

The door opens again, I'm hesitant to look up, "it's probably not her, I don't think she's coming.." I thought to myself, doubting.. but I couldn't help it, I wanted it to be her. I look up, everything goes quiet and my eyes focus immediately. There she is. She's walking in with a few other people trying to get out of the rain so she hasn't noticed me looking yet, or has she?.. I don't care. I start from the floor and work my way up. Her dark red boots that cut off just below the knee dripping with water, her pale, soft thigh exposed under her denim skirt glistening as the light refracts off the water droplets meandering their way down her legs.. I've never wanted to be a drop of water so badly, to be against her skin, feeling every inch of her. Her little cropped, wet white t-shirt, slightly hugging her body from the dampness, she left nothing up to the imagination unlike everything I'd seen before, and it was better than anything I'd thought of before. Her nipple piercings pressed tightly against her top.. I never imagined she'd have piercings like that, but I love it. She seemed so innocent just two days ago, but from yesterday and now.. she's hiding something and I want to find out what it is. My eyes couldn't move past her chest, I was lost, my desires and imagination running more wild than ever before, I've never felt like this before.

Effortlessly, I saw her body sway in my direction. My eyes move past what held my attention for what felt like an eternity, and there she was. Her beautiful eyes, her soft smile, and her slightly damp yet tamed hair, so perfect, an effortlessly stunning woman who seemed to have so much control over me, yet I didn't even think she knew I existed less than 24 hours ago. All I could do was mirror a gentle smile and stand, I didn't even think to approach her, but she'd already began to move towards me, gliding across the café, all I could do was stare as she made her way towards the chair I'd saved for her. She doesn't ask, but notices my jacket, and slides into the seat. Her slightly wet fingers brushing against my hand as she places her bag between our chairs.. that must have been an accident I thought to myself, but then I remembered who was sitting next to me, everything was intentional and she's already playing with me.. she's bad.. and I can't stop.

"You really wanted me close to you, huh?.. you saved me the closest chair next to yours" she said. I stuttered again, "y-yeah, I hope that's okay?" I said pathetically. Ken giggles softly, "of course, don't be silly" she said reassuringly. I let out a soft breath of relief, I can't understand why I'm struggling so much, her presence makes my mind unable to think, unable to function, but her calming tone helps settle me, slowly.

I finally build up some courage to take some form of charge in the conversation… "what drink would you like" I ask.. "you already know what I get, don't you?" she promptly questioned.. I lightly, exhaled and quickyly let out a quick defeated "…yep" and went to go and get our drinks. As I walked away, I noticed her pull out a pen and write something on a napkin and quickly put it between her thigh and the chair, almost like she's hiding something.. but I don't think I can ask about it.. I'll see if she brings it up.

I tell the barrista our names and I get our drinks. As I set them down, Ken says "I hope you don't let this one go cold this time" "I won't" i promptly replied. "you still haven't told me your name" she followed with, but before I could tell her, she read it directly off my drink. "that's a cute name she said. I immediately started to blush, she can do something so simple an elicit such a reaction from me with ease. I didn't even reply and she giggled again. She knows. She's doing it on purpose. I don't want it to stop, and neither does she.

We get to talking, and I don't want it to stop. Her soft, soothing voice talking about her hobbies, her passions, her kitties, everything. Her interest in so many things, how she talks with such interest and drive, such dept. It was happening again, my drink was going cold.. but her attentiveness knew, and she pointed it out. "your drink is going cold again.. here", she picked it up and handed it to me, our hands touching again… the feeling of her on my skin was something I never wanted to forget, I wanted more. I noticed a drop of water from her hair about to drip onto her cheek, I leaned in and gently brushed it off with my thumb. Her posture tightened, her eyes widened everso slightly and she let out a small gasp. I was too shy to say anything, but I knew there was an ounce of vulnerability that had pierced through her usual controlled, and intentional facade. Her head slightly tiled with my thumb brushing off the water, letting my thumb remain slightly longer than even I intended. Her hands raise, and she gently holds my hand against her face. She was so warm dispite being out in the storm, so soft. Her hands then guide mine to the table, our fingers slightly intertwined. It's almost like it's only us in the room, I can't hear or see anything but her. With a soft and low voice, she whispers "no one's ever done that for me before.. be careful" she hushed delicately.

Her cheeks still flushed, and her legs crossed, it was silent for a few minutes, but we were just looking at each other. We didn't need to speak, just the presence was enough. My heart was HAMMERING from something so simple as wiping away a drop of water from her face. "are you shaking?.. becuase of me?" as she broke the silence. She wasn't mocking or being mean, just observing. My leg has been bouncing up and down, I guess it happens when I'm nervous. She reaches over and places her hand on my thigh. "is that better?" she asks gently, staring deep into my eyes… like she was looking into my soul. I swallowed, took a sharp, quick inhale and all I could do was mumble.. "HMHMHMM". She pulled her chair even closer to mine, almost touching, and her hand slowly creeped further up my leg. I couldn't control what was happening, I felt my bulge growing slightly, the blood rushing, and then she stopped. Her hand so close… She lifts her butt off her chair, her legs still crossed, and leans in to my ear.. our faces almost touching, her perfume overwhelming my senses again, I could hear her soft breaths as she exhaled next to me… she whispers "i'm not wearing any underwear.." I choke slightly, let out a faint cough as it all becomes too much, all I could barely even see, I had doubts about her intentions, but now it's real. She leans back into her chair, her butt firmly hitting the cushion followed by her uncrossing her legs intently, she looked at me as she did, I couldn't help myself but to look.. pink, shaved, soft, perfection. I froze. She laughed, even covering her own mouth to mask the volume, she couldn't even control her enjoyment when toying with me.. "I think you need this…" she followed up by saying, as she handed me my jacket and gestured with her eyes towards my bulge.. "cover that up, it's mine and mine only. you're already so hard for me" she said sternly yet discreetly. I quickly grab the jacket and cover myself, embarrassed, and she giggled yet again.

Before I knew it the storm outside had passed, and the sunlight was beaming through the windows just like yesterday. Ken let out a delicate sigh and spoke softly, exclaiming "that was so much fun" she toyed, as I was still recovering from my senses being attacked by pure sexual tension, fantasy and desire. "Oh, and in case you forgot were too distracted.." as she reached between her leg and the chair, and pulled out the napkin. "I know you saw me write on this, don't lose it" she said as she handed it to me. It was her phone number. I couldn't contain my excitement, as she clearly saw my face light up as she giggled again, biting her lip discreetly. She leant over slightly again.. "I was going to make you beg for it, but you earned it". "Message me when you're home" she demanded, and like the obedient toy she'd been playing with all day already, I nodded and agreed.

"Good" she said as she stood up, followed by another giggle. "I need to get going now, I'll be waiting for your message".. how someone can be so assertive yet gentle is something unique to her, she's like no one else. She swiftly made her way to the door, her now dry hair bouncing with her as she stepped along in her red boots, my mind looking through her skirt like when she uncrossed her legs… it made me hungry, fuelled my insatiable obsession for this, wickedly beautiful woman, Ken.

I couldn't leave for another hour, my bulge wouldn't go down, I couldn't get her out of my mind, and I know she knew that was exactly what was happening, as she was skipping along the path so innocently… but she's not innocent at all.

[balletcoregf]

Oh to get my hands on a woman like you or simply YOU! I just love how feminine, soft and sensual you look.

you’re such a charmer!!! <3

[balletcoregf]

dream girl?

[balletcoregf]

maybe u can put me back together </3

[weebtold-deactivated20220613]

[balletcoregf]

i’ll always be posting from my girlroom <3

[balletcoregf]

… in my fantasy it all starts with an innocent DM, to say good morning and offer to buy her a coffee, as I had done plenty of times. She replied almost instantly with her bubbly personality in full display, 10 minutes later she’s on her way to coffee and breakfast, and just when she said thank you for providing a simple morning treat, is when it happened. 

I finally built the courage -or my brain blurted it out, can’t really be sure- and did the unthinkable, I asked her to go out for a drink… I said a singular drink, she could bring someone else if it made her feel safe, fully aware she’s a high profile online creator and probably shuts these invitations down all the time; but the impossible happened.. she agreed. 

I flew out to her city and we met at the coziest bar, to my surprise she walked in by herself, wearing a dress that hugged her figure and highlighted all her assets, hair flowing like silk, and this one necklace I had bought for her many months ago.. every set of eyes in that room were fixated on her, and she knew it, she liked it, she commanded attention. I stood up as she approached and all I could hear was “hey handsome, it’s me!” Before my knees felt weak. 

We had the most amazing conversation, sometimes our eyes lingered longer than usual, I could feel her feet  purposefully graze against my legs everytime she crossed her legs, she’d make jokes and run her fingers ever so gently over my hand. She had me, and she knew it. 

In reality after an amazing evening we went our separate ways… in my mind we stayed there all night dancing around each other, trying to outflirt each other, and this build up was better than any dirty fantasy I could’ve ever come up with. 

To this day, I still think about sending that DM, after all, I have my suit ready… and I could use a drink. 

Signed, P.

this is so hot!!! <3

[balletcoregf]

dear diary,

okay, this is one of those fantasies that makes my stomach flutter in the best way.

it starts with him- my mischievous neighbor, same age, impossibly charming, the kind of guy who knows exactly how to make you notice him. we’ve been flirting for weeks, playful texts, little dares, teasing smirks in the elevator… and in my fantasy, it escalates into something delightfully daring.

one night, i come home to a little surprise: he’s set up a small camera in my apartment, and left a note “don’t move… unless you want me to see.” immediately, i’m intrigued. excited. i know he’s watching, and somehow that makes my heart race in the most delicious way. and the second i see it, i laugh. because in my fantasy, i’m not the victim. i’m the one who takes over the game.

instead of panicking, i lean into it. slowly, deliberately, i move around my room, stretching, spinning, teasing. i catch myself in the mirror and smile, imagining how he must be seeing me. every glance, every sway of my hips, every tilt of my head feels magnified, knowing he’s watching, that he’s there in the background of my mind, fully caught up in it.

i decide to make it even more fun. i lean closer to the camera, wink, stick out my tongue in a teasing little dare. then i turn around slowly, pretending i’m oblivious, knowing full well he’s watching every move. the thought of him watching, anticipating, reacting… it’s intoxicating.

eventually, he walks in, pretending to be casual, but i can tell by the smile on his face that he’s loving every second. i let him see me properly this time- standing bold, confident, playful. every move is a message, every glance a tease. we fall into a game of playful touches and whispered laughter, but the thrill comes from knowing he’s been “watching” me all along, fully caught up in the fantasy we’ve created together.

by the end, we’re tangled on the couch, breathless, giggling, and i realize i’ve never felt so mischievously alive. the camera is still there in the corner, but now it’s part of the teasing tension that makes the whole experience feel like a private, daring little world just for us.

what i love most is that i’m completely seen. the idea of being watched makes everything feel electric, thrilling, and impossibly sexy.

[balletcoregf]

dear diary,

okay. i can’t stop smiling just thinking about this- it’s too fun not to confess.

the fantasy starts with him being… right there. my neighbor. same building, same floor even. i’ve seen him in the elevator, in the lobby, at the mailroom- the kind of casually handsome guy who makes you double-take without even trying. sleeves rolled up, sneakers slightly scuffed, that crooked smile that somehow feels like a secret.

we’ve never really talked. just polite nods, tiny hellos. but the tension? it’s been simmering like a slow boil, and in my fantasy, it finally explodes. it starts innocently enough. i’m coming home from work, keys in hand, and there he is, fumbling with his own door. our eyes meet, linger. maybe i step aside in the hallway, maybe he brushes against my arm “accidentally.” and it’s electric. later that week, we run into each other in the lobby again. the air between us feels… charged. teasing comments, laughter that’s just a little too intimate for strangers. the brush of his fingers against mine as we pass is enough to make my stomach flip.

then, one night, it happens. he invites me up- something casual, he says, just to “show me his new record player,” but the look in his eyes makes it clear neither of us is thinking about vinyl. his apartment is beautiful. open, stylish, soft lighting that makes everything warmer. we stand there, pretending to examine the shelves, pretending not to notice how close we are. and then he steps closer. slow, deliberate. i don’t step back. the first kiss is careful, testing the water, and then urgent. hands find waists, hair, arms. the kind of electricity that makes the world outside his door disappear.

we collapse onto his couch, teasing, laughing, tangled in blankets and limbs. city lights pour in through the windows, but we barely notice. it’s all heat and tension and discovery- neighbors who suddenly know each other better than anyone else ever could. afterward, we lie there catching our breath, grinning like we just got away with it. maybe we hear the elevator ding- our friends, strangers, anyone- and it only makes it feel more daring.

the thrill of the fantasy isn’t just the sex. it’s the closeness, the knowing that every day we could brush past each other in the hall, smiling like nothing happened, carrying this little private spark between us.

in my head, i’m fearless. magnetic. and he… well, he matches me perfectly. that’s the part i love most- the heat, the danger, and the fact that he’s just a few doors down. it could happen again tomorrow.

[balletcoregf]

it’s not just a phase, your obsession with me won’t be fading anytime soon <3

[balletcoregf]

Dear Kendall,

Since 2024, when I first found you, you’ve had a way of staying on my mind… and under my skin.

There are many people who show themselves online… but you feel different. There’s something real about you. Sincere. Never forced.

With you, it’s not just exhibitionism — it feels like genuine enjoyment. Like you truly love being seen…

Even without showing your face, even without me knowing the exact color of your eyes — though I have a suspicion — there’s something in your posts, in your videos that feels almost intimate. An aura that doesn’t just invite attention… it commands it.

Sometimes it feels like you can sense the reaction on the other side of the screen. Like you know exactly when someone’s breathing shifts, when their thoughts blur for a moment, when their body responds before their mind does. And instead of shying away from that… you lean into it.

The way light falls on your pale skin, the contrast of your ink, the subtle shine of metal when you choose to adorn yourself — none of it feels accidental. There’s intention in every movement. In every pause. You know exactly what you’re doing, and I think you enjoy knowing the effect it has.

It’s physical, of course… but it’s more than that. It’s the mix of softness, control, and quiet provocation that really gets under the skin and stays there.

I genuinely love what you do — not just how it looks, but how it feels. I hope you keep creating for as long as it excites you.

I’ve been around longer than you might think — quietly consistent since 2024.

If you enjoy knowing that… then I suppose you already understand the effect you have.

Much love, X

i’m flattered that you’ve noticed some of my intention with my art, and i hope you continue to stay - i wonder if we’ve messaged or if you’ve been silent until now…

[balletcoregf]

dear diary,

the fantasy starts with a message. something simple and unexpected. a handsome man- older than me, composed, the kind of person who wears a suit like he was born in one. he needs a date for a wedding. not just any date. someone polished. charming. someone who can blend in with crystal chandeliers and champagne towers.

and somehow, he chooses me.

in the fantasy, i arrive at his apartment before the ceremony so we can go together. he opens the door in a perfectly tailored tuxedo, bow tie slightly undone like he’s been debating whether to fix it. when he sees me in the dress i’ve carefully chosen- elegant but daring in its own quiet way- there’s this pause. not long. just long enough to feel.

“you look incredible,” he says, but softer than expected. the car ride is filled with polite conversation at first. harmless. professional. after all, i’ve been “hired.” there are rules, implied boundaries. but every so often his knee brushes mine in the back seat, and neither of us apologizes.

at the wedding, the tension builds in the smallest ways. his hand resting at the small of my back as he guides me through the crowd. the warmth of his palm lingering just a second longer than necessary. introducing me to colleagues and friends with a confidence that makes me feel claimed- even though we both know this is temporary.

during dinner, our shoulders touch. under the table, his fingers graze mine as he passes the breadbasket, and instead of pulling away, they stay there. just barely intertwined. hidden beneath white linen and candlelight. it’s the dancing that really undoes me in this fantasy. slow music. dim lights. his hand firm at my waist, the other holding mine. we move closer than strictly appropriate. my breath catches when he leans down to murmur something against my ear- some teasing comment about how convincingly i’m playing the part.

“i’m not acting,” i whisper back before i can stop myself. and the look he gives me- that’s the moment everything shifts. something unspoken, charged. the understanding that maybe this isn’t just a transaction anymore.

in my imagination, we slip outside for air. the night warm and humming. the distant sound of laughter and clinking glasses behind us. he stands close- not touching at first, just looking at me like he’s trying to decide whether crossing the line would ruin everything or finally make it honest.

the tension is almost unbearable. the kind that feels like a wire pulled too tight. and then, finally, he brushes a strand of hair from my face. his fingers graze my cheek. slow. deliberate. the first undeniably intimate touch of the night. that’s usually where my fantasy lingers- suspended in that almost-kiss, that charged space where anything could happen.

i think that’s what i love about it. not anything explicit. not even the idea of going further. just the intensity of being desired. standing beside someone powerful and self-possessed, knowing that beneath all the elegance and restraint, there’s something simmering between us.

in real life, i’d probably overthink every word. but in my head? i’m poised. magnetic. the kind of woman a man can’t quite keep his hands- or his thoughts- off of.

maybe that’s the real confession.

[ownedbyken]

Her.

Kendall,

The girl who doesn't know me, the girl who never told me her name or even knows I exist, I only saw it written on her coffee as she was picking it up from the café she goes to every morning. The sun shining through the windows, glistening off the spoons and cups. It's a beautiful atmosphere, pleasant.. until she wraps her hand around the handle to the door, and it opens.

How she glides through the entry with such softness and ease. Her long, rich, hair flowing with the gently breeze until the door closes behind her and fells into place, styled with intention and beauty.. her frilly, white skirt flowing as she takes each step filling the room with warmth and light. Her tender lips, her pale skin and dark tattoos, her perfect outfit are all I see. The atmosphere isn't sunshine or the smell of fresh coffee, it's her, she is all I'm thinking about.

Every morning I wait, I'm not there for coffee, though I order one anyway, I'm there to see her. She doesn't know me, I've never been able to go up to her and ask, but just seeing her do her normal routine makes my day better. Today is… different though, I'm usually able to glance up and down without her noticing but I got lost, everything was so perfect and I couldn't help myself but to stare. Her hair, her skin, her fresh nails, everything about her filled my head and I just couldn't help it, and she turned. The first time she looked at me it brought me back to reality, I immediately snapped my focus back down. Everything I'd ever thought of her was rushing into my head all at once, I felt my body get warmer, my skin tighten, my heart pounding, the hairs on my arms standing and my face blushing.

I don't know why, but it was never something I expected, I thought I could just watch without thought, or did I want her to notice me? Her gaze was piercing through me, I could feel her analysing me, scanning my soul as I sat there facing the ground hoping she's move on, but she didn't.

Gentle footsteps tapping on the cold floor getting louder and louder, another patron opened the door to the café as she approached me, casting a cold breeze between us, but the breeze carried her perfume right to me… it was everything, sweet and warm, just like her. The scent wrapped around my throat and squeezed, I couldn't breathe, but the steps stopped. My eyes haven't lifted past the table yet, but I see her feet planted firmly, no words were spoken.. yet. I start to lift my eyes, but before I could make it all the way up..

"Hey" she said.

I'd listen to her order her coffee every morning, how sweet and tender she was, but with it being me she was speaking to now, it sounded like she was speaking directly to my soul. That single word warmed me, calmed me. My heart immediately started to slow, but my blushed, red face remained and she couldn't ignore it, I knew she was thinking about it.

I forced my focus up, her soft, pastel-green eyes with slight hazel tones looked at me, not with judgement, not with amusement, but with curiosity, they welcomed me. Everything about her was calming, she'd looked at me for no more than 5 seconds and I knew for certain she was more than the pretty girl I'd be fantasising about for months, and I only wanted to know more.. if I could even get the words out to her.

At first, I couldn't even think of what to say, "hey" didn't sound right, "hello".. too formal?.. Nothing made sense, It's almost like I'd forgotten how to speak. All I could muster up as an apology.. "I-I.. I'm sorry for staring" as I stuttered and struggled to even speak. She let out a soft giggle, her cheeks ever so slightly rosy. It was awkward, but the comfortable awkward, there wasn't any judgement but only warmness. "You're here a lot" she said.. "I see you every time I'm getting my coffee" she added. I lost my breath again for a second time, she'd seen me every morning, she knew. I immediately replied "I'm just here for the coffee, same as you". To my surprise, she picked up my coffee, and took a small sip.. "it's cold" she said. As cold as the coffee was, I froze. I don't know what to do, all I could muster up was a pathetic excuse; "I guess I got distracted, I'll order another one". As I was about to stand, she added, "you sit in the same spot too, always watching the door, like you're waiting for someone". She knew I wasn't waiting for anyone.

"I'm Ken, what's your name" she said.. as she gently extended her soft, pale hand towards me, almost like royalty, with poise and intent yet graceful. Her pink, pastel nails staring at me. I quickly stand and grasp her hand gently… even softer than I'd imagined.. so much so I'd forgotten she'd even asked me what my name was. "you don't have to tell me if yet, if you don't want to" she jokingly said as our hands were still touching. We both smiled at each other, she gently squeezed my hand and we both pulled away at the same time, things were starting to click. "I'll be here again tomorrow" she said as she smoothed her skirt and adjusted a loose strand of hair that'd brushed over her face. I mustered up all of the courage and bravery I could, to quickly say "I'll see you then!" as I nodded, too quickly, too eager. She smiled again with another light giggle, but this time with a subtle lip bite as she turned away from me.

As she turned, her hair lifted and swung with her body, but her skirt followed, the momentum lifting it slightly.. I couldn't blink, I couldn't break contact with what I was seeing.. her cute, pastel-pink underwear filled my gaze, but her perfect cheeks peeking out from either side took my attention further.. I knew I should look away, but I didn't want to.. I couldn't.. she WATNED me to see.. right?.. She looked back again as she was walking away, everything she did she did with intention, she knew what she wanted, and what she was giving. She was playing with me like I was some pathetic bit of food, and I liked it. Once the door closed behind her, everything went back to normal. I could hear the people around me, but something lingered, her perfume stayed but she was gone.

I sat at that café for hours after she'd left. My hand still tingling from where we touched, my head replaying her skirt lifting… and her perfume. Everything, I was obsessed with her. I kept replaying in my head how she'd said her name, how SHE was the one observing me all along.. I don't think she's as innocent as I thought she was, she must've been teasing me.. warning me of what she's truly capable of and I'm a little scared, I think she likes that.. she thrives in it.. but it's HER. It's Ken.

I can't wait for tomorrow.

[balletcoregf]

[balletcoregf]

dear diary,

i shouldn’t even be writing this down, but it’s been looping in my head all week.

tonight’s fantasy takes place at one of those impossibly elegant restaurants- white tablecloths, crystal glasses, candles flickering like they’re in on a secret. i imagine wearing something deceptively innocent: a silk dress that brushes my knees, heels that make me feel taller than i am, lipstick just bold enough to feel daring. we’re there with a group of friends- laughing too loudly, passing plates around, debating wine like we know what we’re talking about. and he’s there. sitting beside me. close, but not suspiciously so.

in the fantasy, it starts small.

our knees touch under the table. at first it’s accidental- or at least that’s what anyone watching would assume. but neither of us moves away. the warmth lingers. my heart would probably be pounding so loudly i’d worry the others could hear it over the clink of cutlery. he’d lean in to say something about the menu, his mouth close to my ear, his breath warm against my skin. from the outside, it would look perfectly normal- two friends sharing a comment. but his hand would rest lightly on my thigh under the tablecloth, just high enough to make me catch my breath.

i imagine trying to keep my face composed while someone across from us tells a story. nodding. smiling. pretending i’m fully present. meanwhile, every tiny movement under the table would feel magnified- his thumb tracing slow circles, my fingers daring to drift over his wrist as if by coincidence. the thrill isn’t even about what we’re doing. it’s about what we’re not doing. the restraint. the secrecy. the way we’d have to hold eye contact just a second too long and then look away before anyone noticed. maybe at some point i’d cross my legs deliberately, brushing against him in a way that makes his voice falter mid-sentence. maybe he’d squeeze my hand under the table while raising his glass in a toast, as if nothing at all were happening. and the whole time, we’d both know: this is just for us.

that’s the part that makes my stomach flip when i think about it- sharing something charged and private in the middle of something so polished and public. the contrast of candlelight and whispered restraint. it’s funny. in reality, i’d probably be too shy to try any of this. but in my head? i’m bold. controlled. dangerous in the quietest way.

maybe that’s what i really like- not the risk of being caught, but the feeling of having a secret pulse between us that no one else at the table could ever see. i should probably stop before this turns into something even more distracting.

still… i can’t help smiling.