One Night Stand with My Workmate’s Boyfriend: A Scandalous Affair

It all began with a harmless comment I dropped under a post in one of those Facebook groups—something cheeky that I didn’t think anyone would take seriously. But he did. He slid into my DMs, smooth as butter, his words dripping with charm. It wasn’t long before our daily chats became the highlight of my day. His voice was soft, his tone sweet, and yet there was something dangerously alluring about him. I couldn’t resist the pull.

But there was one problem—I had a boyfriend. A good man, someone I intended to marry. We’d been together for years, and everyone knew us as the perfect couple. But this new guy, he was different. He made me feel things I hadn’t felt in a long time. And the worst part? His girlfriend was not just anyone—she was a close friend of mine, someone I worked with every day. We shared office gossip, laughed over lunch, and confided in each other. Yet here I was, crossing lines I never thought I would.

Thursday night was when everything changed. We couldn’t resist the urge any longer. We decided to meet, and my heart raced with both excitement and guilt. When he arrived, I couldn’t believe how intense the attraction was. Seeing him in person made everything more real, more dangerous.

We didn’t waste time with small talk; the tension was too thick. Soon, we were alone, and I could feel the heat between us building to a fever pitch. He pulled me close, his hands gripping my waist, and began to kiss me—softly at first, then with more urgency. His lips trailed down to my neck, and I felt a shiver run through me. I knew this was wrong, yet I couldn’t stop.

He wasn’t gentle. He kissed me like he’d been waiting for this moment for years, his lips leaving a burning trail from my neck to my ears. His tongue flicked against the sensitive skin, making me squirm with pleasure. My mind screamed for me to stop, to think of my boyfriend, but my body betrayed me.

Then he moved lower, his mouth tracing a path down my body. When he reached my stomach, he paused, his lips hovering over my belly button. I held my breath, anticipation making my pulse race. He kissed around it, his tongue teasing me until I was trembling beneath him. Every kiss, every touch, was like fire on my skin, and I couldn’t get enough.

As he undressed me, I felt the full weight of what we were doing. My thoughts flashed to my boyfriend, his face, his trust. But it was too late to turn back. I was caught in the moment, completely at his mercy.

He laid me down, his body pressing against mine, and I could feel his desire, raw and powerful. He didn’t just take me—he possessed me, his every move calculated, deliberate. And I let him. I let him because in that moment, I needed this. I needed to feel alive.

When he finally entered me, it was slow, torturous, like he wanted to make sure I felt every inch of him. His hands roamed over my body, his lips never leaving mine, and I was lost in a whirlwind of sensations. He knew exactly how to touch me, how to make me forget everything and everyone else.

As he thrust deeper, I couldn’t help but think of his girlfriend—my friend. The guilt was suffocating, but it only made the pleasure more intense, more forbidden. He whispered dirty secrets in my ear, his breath hot against my skin, and I couldn’t hold back. I cried out, my body shuddering with the force of my release, and I knew I was ruined.

When it was over, we lay there, tangled in the sheets, our breaths heavy and uneven. I knew I had crossed a line I could never uncross. My relationship with my boyfriend would never be the same, and I couldn’t even look at his girlfriend—the woman who trusted me—without feeling like a monster.

But as I lay there, his arms around me, I knew I would do it all over again. He had awakened something dark, something scandalous inside me, and there was no going back. This was our secret, our forbidden affair, and no one could ever know.

Even if he stayed with his girlfriend, even if I married my boyfriend, this night would haunt me forever. He was my temptation, my sin, and no matter what happened, I would always remember the way he made me feel—alive, reckless, and dangerously free.