You’ve had enough of keeping your feelings a secret. Every day you see him across the teacher’s lounge, with that delicious smile of his, those giant hands of his, that hairline that’s receding just right for his skull shape. You can barely contain yourself. You’ve been letting life pass you by all these years, it’s time to tell him what you want.
“I want my boobs inside you,” you tell him when you pull him into the supply closet after eighth period.
“Like figuratively?” he asks.
You shake your head no.
“How would that work?”
You tell him you don’t care. It’s what you want. And you can’t wait any longer.
“If we have to just go with regular intercourse, will you be disappointed? Because I just don’t want you to—”
Kiss him on his stupid mouth and shut him the fuck up. Jesus why do they have to talk?
Happy I Want My Boobs Inside You Day!