I wanna be those dishes

Lately, I've been having fantasies about the guy who washes the dishes at my work. He's a big, strong man with very broad shoulders and a gleaming smile. I can't help but flirt with him when he's around. He makes me feel so petite and feminine. Sometimes while I'm washing my hands in the sink by the dish pit, I lose time imagining him pulling me into the icy cold walk in fridge. I get goosebumps thinking of his big strong hands sliding into my pants. When I imagine him inside me, my body burns with arousal. I like the idea of hiding away somewhere that's only kind of secret, the excitement of knowing we might be caught. I like the idea of the cold of the fridge, making my nipples stand up, so sensitive to the touch of his rough fingertips. He's strong enough to hold me up. I've never been with somebody who might be able to.