To my favorite fetishists: The air in the room was heavy, hot. I knew you were there, sitting in the armchair in the dim light, exactly where we'd agreed. The fact that you were watching was my greatest fuel. I looked you straight in the eyes before pulling Lucas by the nape of his neck. The black dress you chose slid down my body, and I made sure you saw every detail. When his hands squeezed me tightly and he threw me onto the bed, I let out a loud moan, echoing in the room, knowing that sound went straight to your mind. Lucas dominated me, took me roughly, but my mind was on you. I glanced at your dark corner, seeing your silhouette moving, knowing how hard and hypnotized you were watching me be with another. Each thrust made me burn, and I moaned louder just to drive you crazy, knowing you love to see me completely surrendered and defiled in front of you. When Lucas finally finished and got dressed, the room fell silent. I looked at the armchair, still breathless, with the traces of the other man on my skin, and reached out to you. And now that the show is over and I'm all yours: what do you do? Do you come running to savor me and reclaim what's yours, or do you make me lie on your chest and tell me every detail of what he did to me?