A Secret from the Warehouse

I’ve been working in retail for about five years now, and I always thought of myself as just a regular guy. But there’s this one thing that happened recently at work that makes me feel like such an asshole, even though what I did was totally consensual with my partner. It all started when we were both really stressed out from the holiday rush. My partner is also in retail and works shifts at the same warehouse where I sometimes help out with stock management after hours. We’ve been into role-playing for a while now, but it’s always been pretty tame stuff like dressing up as different characters. We never really pushed boundaries until one day we were discussing our stress levels and how we wished we could just escape from the hectic reality of our jobs. That night, I had an idea. As someone who’s in charge of stock during off-hours, I realized that there was this unused storage area in the back of the warehouse that looked like a forgotten piece of history, perfect for creating our own little secret world away from work. So one evening, after making sure no one else was around, we set it up. It wasn’t anything wild; it had an old desk and some boxes to make a cozy spot. We agreed on certain rules beforehand: no crossing into actual business hours, always respecting each other’s limits, and staying away from any illegal stuff. I guess what really bothers me is the way my partner looked at me with such trust and acceptance when we started exploring this new level of intimacy. We used that space for a couple of weeks, just letting our imaginations run wild while we were off duty. But then something happened, I’m not sure how to put it, but there came a point where I felt like what we were doing was crossing some invisible line in my head. My partner never brought it up as an issue; she seemed to enjoy the escape and freedom we had found. The guilt started creeping in when reality hit us again and our regular lives didn’t change, our work stresses still existed, but now there was this added layer of secrecy. I haven’t told anyone about what happened, not even my partner. It feels like a betrayal of sorts, even though it’s all consensual adult stuff that should have no real consequences outside our private moments. Writing this down makes me feel like maybe someone else out there understands or has felt the same way. I’m just trying to figure out how I can move past this feeling of being in the wrong without actually having done anything technically wrong. It’s hard to talk about because it feels so taboo and personal, but writing it out helps a little.