I grab my phone and scroll through the hundreds of pictures on my phone. “This one isn’t good,” I say to myself. “Definitely not this one.”

At least half of these pictures are with my ex-wife and the other half are with my daughter. Do I put a picture of me and my daughter up? Is that weird? The online dating etiquette is not something I am used to. In fact, there’s no real reason why I’m even on this thing, other than the fact that I want to bang my new employee. That, of course, is out of the question. It’s a violation of ethics. My thought is that if I find someone else to look at, maybe I’ll be able to move past my desires for once.

The hidden truth is that this is how I met my last wife. She was everything to me. I saw her at a party. We were so fucking young then. My friends surrounded me while hers surrounded her. Looking through the sea of people, just to find her. She was gorgeous to me. That was before I knew how mean she got, before I knew what she could do to a man.

I was obsessed. Fucking hooked. I couldn’t stop calling her. Long nights on the phone, talking about nothing. That was how it started. One desire. That’s all it takes. Of course, that’s exactly why I’m scared. I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust the testosterone in my body. My dick wants her, and of course that makes my heart pump strange endorphins, but what is it that I’m really searching for? Peace? Stability?

Maybe I just want to be alone. That’s a thought I have sometimes. The quiet house creaks a little during the day, but I tend to busy myself with enough work to be distracted. A man’s worst enemy is himself, I once decided. Your choices will end up draining everything you’ve worked so hard to get. Your empire will turn to dust. Children, ex-wives, and some bad fucking karma. That’s the legacy of man.

Emily Carter, however, knows what she’s doing. She’s got that strange innocence that people possess before they hit their third decade. Youth, naivety, and the idea that anything is possible. That’s what she has inside those eyes of hers. And of course, I just want to take her in my arms and do the dirtiest things I can.

At home, while the moonlight glistens at night, I look at Tinder and feel dissatisfied with the world. This is what we’ve come to? Dating apps? Fuck, I really am starting to sound old fashioned, but there’s nothing to these things. There’s no connection, no meaning. It’s just a screen that makes you feel a little lonelier amidst everything.

So I turn the damn phone off and plug it in. I lay in bed and close my eyes. I think of Emily Carter and that beautiful, young body of hers. While Hanson was picking up the food, I should have made my move. That was my chance. She wanted me to. I could feel it.

She wanted me to reach out and touch her side. She wanted my palm to close around her, to pull her as close as I could. She wanted to feel my cock growing against her thigh, as I ripped her shirt off and backed her up against a table. And I wanted to lift her ass onto that surface, to pull her panties down to her ankles and fuck her senseless.

I open my eyes again and notice that my pulse is through the roof. I stand up and pace around my bedroom. I can’t have her. I can’t go after her. It would be so fucking wrong. Yet, everything inside me tells me that I need her. I need her lips around my cock, I need to feel her as deep as I can go, I need to taste her. “Fuck!” I nearly scream.

I take off my clothes and walk over to my shower. I turn it on and wait for it to heat up. I need a break from everything. It’s been a long fucking time since I’ve felt normal about my life. I thought that, eventually, things would even out, but it turns out I was wrong. As time passes, things only get more complicated.

I take off my clothes, feeling my muscles ache. I must have lifted that three-hundred-pound table over forty times today. I step inside the big shower and let the hot water fall down my back. I step forward because it burns me slightly. When I’m used to it, I push my body back in. A little pain never bothered me. What’s a little more?

Emily is crawling toward me on the bathroom floor, as I hold her leash in my hands, connected to the choker around her neck. Of course, this is all just fantasy. She’s too good for that. Too pure. In my head, she gets dirty for one person. Me. She’s never been bad before, no doubt. She’s always been obedient and good. I want to teach her the other side of living.

I lean against the tiled wall and let the water fall into the drain. In the steam, I run my hands down my abs, to my cock. Thinking about her has already destroyed me. My cock is harder than a hammer. It needs her. I need her. I close my eyes again and picture her, still on her knees, sitting obediently. Her mouth and tongue are wide open and she’s waiting for it.

I grab my cock and start stroking. I can feel her. I can taste her. My imagination is so fucking vivid right now. It’s four in the morning, and I’m practically hallucinating her with me right now. It’s not right. I’m going to have to face her in just a few hours. I can’t help myself. It’s all just too much to handle.

I slide my cock in her mouth and she moans eagerly. In my thoughts, she cums almost immediately. It doesn’t take me much longer. I slide my hand up and down, eagerly waiting for some kind of end result. I picture her ass, pushed against my face. I taste her lips. I grab her tits and brush against each nipple.

I begin cumming so fucking hard that I nearly lose balance in my shower. The feeling rolls through my body in shockwaves, until I’m numb and sitting, sprawled out on the shower floor.

Emily Carter is the woman I’ve hired below me. Emily Carter is also the woman I can’t stop thinking about. Pretty soon, I’m going to cross the line. There’s no doubt about that. When I do, it’ll bring chaos and, most likely, my downfall.