That Night Behind the Bar Counter

I met her three years ago, when she came in to celebrate a big promotion at work. We clicked instantly and have been together ever since. Despite how well we get along and how happy we make each other, there’s this one thing that I can’t seem to forget. One night after the bar closed for good, when no one was around, she took me behind the counter and bent over it. Her legs were spread wide as she held onto a bottle of tequila for support. She looked back at me with these sultry eyes that said everything was okay and pushed my pants down with one swift motion. I positioned myself between her thighs and entered her hard without any foreplay. The way her body arched, the sounds she made, it was so intense, but also felt incredibly wrong. Our clothes were scattered around like a mess of confetti after a party. We knew what we were doing was technically cheating on each other with ourselves; there was no one else involved. But the way she begged for more and took me deeper just sent shivers down my spine. I’ve never told her about that night, but it’s burned in my mind ever since. Despite everything good between us, that moment behind the bar counter was so taboo and raw, it still drives me wild thinking about it.