You ask Sara how often she fantasizes about you instead of her fiancé

"Wow," you say. "That's hot. But tell me, S, how often do you imagine it's me inside you one last time?"

Sara is blushing so much that you can almost feel the heat radiating from her face. She has always had a way of pausing before she speaks, so that everything she says just after seems meaningful, heartfelt, but also carefully considered and maybe a little crafty.

"In truth," Sara says. There's that pause of hers. "It's almost every time." She looks at you with expectant eyes.