Perfection: tall, funny and beautiful. Long, flowing hair and dark, green, seductive eyes. This is everything my girlfriend, Tasha, is. She is my girlfriend of two years, and not once have I doubted her- until now. Standing In our apartment, she's practically begging me to have a threesome…with another guy. Not just any guy, either, but with Oliver, my freaking boss! Not only that, but he owns the newspaper that I work for. I've always been criticized by this man, my articles never good enough. I mean, granted that I've never seen him before, I believe that this is totally inappropriate. Plus, I'm just learning now that they were childhood buddies!
"Please, Max? You have no idea what this means to me." She's serious, her eyes wide and vulnerable. I-must-resist-her…power.
"You're right; I don't understand why it's so important to sleep with another guy when you're with me. I mean am I not good enough for you anymore?" seriously, my ego's wounded.
"No!" she exclaims. "I just want to spice up what we already have." She tries to move closer, but I take a step back and roll my eyes.
"So what, now I'm boring you? Well sorry if I can't fuck you to your standards, Tasha. I fucking love you, so I'm sorry I don't want to share you with Satan's spawn." She doesn't say anything, and I really look at her. She's changed since we first met. Her hair, now long, was cut short at her shoulders and had natural waves. Now, it's grown out and straightened, making her look older.
"Max, please, for me?" Fuck, now I'm really in trouble. She pulled the 'for me' card, one she knows I can't resist. I pinch the bridge of my nose.
"Fuck. Fine, Tasha. Call him and set up a date."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaims, and jumps on me, wrapping her arms around my neck and legs around my waist, giving me a quick peck on the lips.
"Trust me, you won't be sorry," She says as she goes to make that dreaded call. Worst part? I already do.