Behind The Counter Confession

I’ve been in a steady relationship with my partner for two years now. It’s solid, nothing fancy but it works for us. Yet, every day at work when I'm behind the counter, this one customer comes in and our eyes meet. He's got a look that says more than any words ever could. Dark hair slicked back, piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through me as he orders his usual latte. Our interactions are always professional, but the way he leans just slightly too close or smiles with a certain edge in his gaze... it's impossible not to notice. Tonight, after closing up and finishing my shift, I found myself heading toward him rather than home. We met in an old alley near our workplaces. As soon as we were alone, there was no more pretending. My heart raced while he pulled me close, hands slipping under the hem of my shirt to touch bare skin. Kissing wasn’t enough, it had been building for too long. We didn't waste time; my jeans came down and his pants followed suit. His hardness pressed against my entrance as we leaned back into a wall for support. He entered me roughly, our combined moans echoing in the dark alley. Each thrust was powerful yet deliberate, hitting just where I needed it most. Sweat mingled between us as he pumped harder and faster, fingers digging into my hips to keep me steady. The rhythm was intense, primal even, but there wasn't any regret or hesitation from either of us.