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Her fingertips walk along the edge of the desk as she rounds it to stand next to my chair. “You were so badass though,” she giggles and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes.

“And,” she lifts a leg and throws it over my lap, sitting to straddle me, “so brave.”

I don’t move; don’t encourage nor dissuade her. Just stare at her heavily made-up face with a slightly lifted brow.

Her palms come to rest on my chest and she inches forward on my lap. I won’t lie, I am tempted. We certainly wouldn’t be the first ones to fuck on this desk and I’m sexually frustrated from being around Francesca so much.

Francesca.

The blue eyes that stare down at me, hooded in either lust or due to narcotics (maybe both), are the wrong colour. All I want are the caramel-brown Bambi eyes that go with her plush bee-stung lips.

Fuck it. But I can’t have her. Will never have her. It is pointless for me to think like this. I need to put her out of my mind. Get laid and move on.

“You wanted to say ‘thank you’,” I look at Ash’s lips as I speak, licking my own suggestively.

She nods eagerly and rolls her hips, grinding her pussy in my lap. “Will you let me show my appreciation?” she purrs leaning towards me.

Enacting what I fantasised about earlier, I quickly reach up, wrap her ponytail around my fist and drag her down for a kiss. It’s fine. She kisses fine, but my stomach isn’t doing backflips.

I doubt very much that Ash is a lesbian. Her talon-like nails virtually confirm she is not. She might be bisexual, but in all likelihood, this is a power move. All the other girls will know I fucked her two minutes after she leaves the room.

Should I bother? Do I even want this?My brain is being very unhelpful as I try to get lost in the kiss.Just get off and get out, Giovanna.

“Do you know how to give head properly?” I squeeze her jaw in one of my hands, pushing her back so I can see her face. Most of the strippers will have slept with women before, but I can’t be fucked with an amateur who isn’t even into it. “Not suck dick. Eat pussy,” I clarify.

She nods again with enthusiasm and I slap my hands on her arse twice and instruct her to get up. Ash sits on the desk and watches as I kick off one of my shoes, undo my pants, and slide them and my underwear down one leg.

“Kneel,” I command, pointing to the floor in front of me and she hurriedly obeys. She does look hot looking up at me, legs folded underneath her. Even more so when she takes off her bra and drops it next to her.

Placing my shoeless foot on the chair next to me to open up my legs, I use Ash’s ponytail again to pull her up onto her knees so her face aligns with my cunt. “Eat,” I tell her and she doesn’t need to be told twice.

My head drops back and my eyes flutter closed as I try to focus on enjoying being eaten out, but images of caramel eyes won’t leave me alone. I find myself wondering if she has gone to bed now and imagine getting home and slipping in between the sheets to find her sleeping, warm body.

Ash is eating like a champ, but I’m just not getting there. I’m pretty sure the only way I’m going to come is if I pretend she is Francesca.

“Fuck,” I grunt in frustration. Keeping my eyes closed, I imagine Francesca on her knees. She would be tentative at first, inexperienced with women. But I’d teach her.

Gripping Ash’s head with both hands, I fuck her face and the heat in my core builds.

“Gonna come babe,” I groan and she moans into me. It takes all my restraint not to call out Francesca’s name when the orgasm hits me. Instead, I just repeat the word “fuck” over and over.

Sitting back on her heels, Ash wipes the back of her hand across her face looking pleased with herself. Fuck, I feel bad for using her. But then she sought me out and she will brag about this to her friends. I don’t need to feel guilty about shit.

I waste no time pulling my underwear and pants back up my bare leg and straightening myself up. A big mouthful of whiskey washes away the taste of kisses from a woman who isn’t Francesca and I want to be alone.

“You're welcome,” I say.

“Pardon?” Ash looks confused as she clips her bra back on.

“You wanted to say thank you. So ‘you’re welcome,’”

“Oh right,” she grins.

“Close the door behind you,” I dismiss her, making my disinterest in spending any more time in her company clear.

When she slips out and I’m left in an office that smells like sex and half a bottle of whisky, regret circles my stomach like a drain.

I don’t want Francesca any less than I did before Ash entered the office and worst of all, I feel like I have been unfaithful to her.