Chapter 1

I have a twisted secret.

I love dressing up, getting on the bus, and letting different men stare at me.

Especially the rough, blue-collar types.

They get me going instantly.

As a stranger’s hand brushes against my heated skin, as my legs are pushed apart in the crowd…

I can't hide the thrill that rushes through me.

I'm completely lost in it…

...

I love being devoured by men's eyes.

As a woman who considers herself traditional at heart, I’m ashamed of these thoughts, so I indulge them in secret.

I don’t have a job, but I squeeze onto the bus every day like a commuter, just to enjoy the feeling of being pressed and pulled from all sides.

Today, the bus was packed again.

I made my way to the back, where most people were sitting, and I stood.

The man in the third-to-last row was perfect. He wore black sweatpants, and the muscles of his stomach were faintly visible.

I swallowed hard, grabbing the handle above his seat, letting my hair brush against his ear.

Suddenly, something small fell from my clothes and landed in his lap.

When he saw what it was, he quickly covered it with his hand.

He shot a nervous glance at the sleeping girlfriend on his shoulder, his ears turning bright red.

A sweet, innocent college boy?

The thought made me even more excited. I kept brushing against him, wearing nothing under my silk dress.

When the bus took a sharp turn, I "fell" right onto his lap.

We both moved carefully, not wanting to wake his girlfriend.

As I sat on him, I could feel his thighs tremble, and he let out a soft, shaky breath.

I stood back up, holding the handle again, and glanced down.

A dark, wet spot had appeared on his pants.

I pressed my legs against his shoulder and whispered into his ear.

"Can you help me wipe that?"

We continued our secret game, brushing against each other until we reached my husband's office building...

"Honey, I'm here to pick you up! I missed you so much."

I threw myself into Leo’s arms, wrapping myself around his neck and kissing him wildly.

Even though I find my own fun, it’s all just a tease.

Deep down, I’m still traditional. The real thing is only for my husband.

People were coming and going from the office entrance. My eager grinding made him a little embarrassed.

He picked me up and carried me toward the underground parking garage.

The moment he set me down in the passenger seat, I wrapped my arms around him, demanding he pay his dues.

But he stopped almost as soon as he started.

Leo sat beside me, looking defeated, and sighed.

"I'm sorry, baby."

My body was itching, like an addict needing a fix. I wasn't in the mood to listen to him. My hands clawed at the air, grabbing nothing.

"I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry. I'll take you to a doctor. We'll see a doctor."

I refused.

He thinks it's a disease, an addiction.

But I don't see it that way, and I would never see a doctor for it.

I told him to just take me home. At home, I had other ways to get relief.

I collapsed into the seat, my mind flashing back to our wedding night just six months ago.

What happened to him? Why couldn't he perform now?