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i didn’t plan on it going that far. it was supposed to be a tease. something mean and hot to keep him on edge. we’d joked about it for months—me getting dressed up and “accidentally” letting someone else flirt too long, touching someone’s thigh in front of him, whispering things i’d never actually do. he always called my bluff. i always let him. until i didn’t. the guy wasn’t even special. just some tall, cocky dude i met at a friend’s thing. flirty, too forward, not my type. but i knew he’d fuck me if i asked, and more importantly, i knew my boyfriend would lose his mind if he saw it. so i told him. directly. “i want to fuck someone else, and i want you to watch.” he didn’t say yes right away. didn’t say no either. just stared at me like i’d slapped him and kissed him deeper than he expected. the next weekend, it happened. hotel room. one bed. one chair in the corner where he sat, arms folded, hard as a rock and pretending he wasn’t shaking. i played it up. leaned into it. got louder. made eye contact. when the guy pulled out, i locked eyes with my boyfriend and said, “he’s not you.” afterward, i expected drama. a fight. a cold shower. instead, he asked if i liked it. i told him i did. and that i wanted to do it again. the second time, he held my hair and made me tell him everything. the third time, he picked the guy. he doesn’t say it, but i can tell he needs it now. he likes hearing me moan for someone else. likes that he knows my body better than they do. likes seeing the mess and knowing it’s all for him. he never touches me after. not right away. he waits until the other guy’s gone. then he fucks me like he’s proving a point. and i love that. i love what it turns him into. he used to be sweet. now he’s possessive. rough. jealous in a way that makes me ache. and the worst part? i think i planned it that way from the beginning.