I’ve seen the same websites on my phone a bazillion times in the past few minutes as I scroll and scroll, and I’m bored.
I’m bored because I’m preoccupied…okay, horny.
My box is burning like a motherfucker in a way it hasn’t in quite some time.
My fucking boyfriend, Chuck, called me a few minutes ago to tell me he couldn’t come over because he’d been called into work. Someone called in sick, he said, so the boss asked him if he could go in and cover for them.
Couldn’t he have said no just this once? Was he the only one they could call?
FUCK ME!
My vibrator won’t do the trick.
Neither will my Shane Diesel dildo.
I need the real deal.
A nice thick cock that will pound me, silly! Chuck has such a cock, but he had to be the nice guy, the dutiful employee, and say, “How high, sir?” when they said, “Jump!”
The nerve of that bastard, leaving me alone with nothing to do.
Well, I know just who to call.
Daddy.
Also known as Patrick.
I’m such a little brat; all I have to do is talk to him in that pouty voice, and he’ll drop whatever he’s doing to come down here from his condo in Brentwood and take…
