My ovulating egg isn't going down easy
I don’t know if it’s the spring air, finally being off my IUD, or just pure built-up hunger, but today’s peak ovulation has me completely feral. This egg is out for blood—it wants to get claimed.I made the brilliant decision to wear a skirt with nothing underneath to the office. Big mistake. By lunchtime the constant wetness had me switching into pants just to keep the visible marks under control.And of course I work on an all-guy team in a very male-dominated workplace. Absolute torture.Hours clocked in: 8 Times I pictured a coworker railing me: 38 Times I used whiteboard markers on myself: 2 Times I quietly came during a meeting by squeezing my thighs under the table: 4 I have a hard personal boundary against sleeping with anyone from work, but damn, today it was tested to the limit. My mind kept whispering how simple it would be, just the right flirty comment, a little cleavage, one inviting look. So simple to get bent over and filled with a thick load right into my aching, dripping pussy.Part of me wants to lock myself in my room until this wave passes. The other part knows it would only take one good creampie to flip my entire life upside down and turn me into a mom. Just a single drop.That thought is dangerously hot.It’s a wild reminder of how powerful one determined egg can be, and how much raw force lives inside a man’s orgasm.I’m planning to survive the rest of this ovulation behind a locked door, surrounded by toys, venting to someone I trust, and clinging to whatever willpower I have left. But this egg is putting up one hell of a fight. Send whatever prayers or good vibes you’ve got my way, even if it’s straight to the fertility gods. I need all the help I can get—almost as badly as I need to be properly bred, raw and deep, with zero logic left.I’m cutting myself off here before I completely lose it. Consider this your regular reminder that biology doesn’t negotiate with common sense.