Excerpt
I'm feeling lazy and greedy, and I want to do something just for myself.
And since it's just me, I indulge myself with one a taboo fantasy.
Emi.
I don't want him to change, honestly I don't. His asexuality is the reason we can be together. And although he's told me it's OK for me to fantasize about him, I don't really buy it. I know it's been a problem for him in the past, men and women who said they could be together without sex, but pressured him for it anyway.
So I don't let myself think of him this way often.
But still, my boyfriend is freaking gorgeous.
He doesn't spend hours in a gym sculpting his muscles, he gets them from the actual work he does. So he doesn't have the exaggerated definition of a hardcore gym-rat. But still, he's built like a muscle anatomy chart. I don't need that in a partner, but I'm sure not going to say it's a minus.
He likes to run in a yellow jersey with blue and red detailing, and I let myself imagine how it must be look on him right now. Plastered to the planes of his chest, the ridges of his abs. Semi-translucent from his exertions, revealing a dark diamond shadow of chest hair.
I roll over and grope around in the box under the bed.
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