“I have thought about what happened in my office every day for the past five years. You offered to go down on me, and I just . . . embarrassed myself, and it should be the most mortifying memory I have, but for some reason it’s turned into the axis every fantasy of mine spins around, and”—he reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose—“I want to fuck you. Obviously. Always have. I just don’t want to fuck you once. I want to do it a lot. For a long time. I want you to come to me for sex, but also want you to come to me when you need help with your taxes and moving your furniture. I want fucking
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