Word Count: 100
We’re in the middle of a meeting, and all I can think about is how much I want her. This doesn’t particularly bother me, as I always tune these things out anyway. Everyone thinks the Yamayurikai is so glamorous, but the actual work is somewhere between watching paint dry and waiting in the doctor’s office on the “interesting” scale. Who could blame me for entertaining myself by fantasizing about what she looks like under her clothes?
She shoots me one of her stern, “Pay attention!” looks, but I just smile back innocently. If she only knew what I was thinking...