Underneath these tights is nothing but my bare skin. Bare skin that longs for your fingertips. In this dim lit room with blaring music and an intoxicated audience, I’ve got nothing but eyes for you. Watching your lips move by the bar while you converse, mine part in anticipation. I wore this dress for you tonight, can you tell? It grips every curve tightly and abruptly ends right at the curve of my butt. I know I’m trying too hard, you don’t need to think it. But I have to try this hard for you. I can barely swallow this wine in my glass anymore, so instead I run my lips over the wet rim and play pretend. The night is almost over and you haven’t said a word to me. I contemplate my laptop, dark room and rated fantasies involving you when you come by and hug me. I wince slightly as your torso presses hard into tender nipples. Why do I always end up the fool for you? “I’ve been watching you,” you say. “You are so seductive with a glass of wine in your hands.” I think I’ve won you over. If only you weren’t my boss.