Between him and her (trashy)…
“go down on me” (as she pushes her foot into his crotch)
“tomorrow” (as he try’s to wriggle away)
And I’m here.
Later…
Home.
Fuck. 2hrs. He fucks I think differently, it’s nice though. The comfort or the moment?
Haven’t worked it out yet.
Continued in the morning, it felt good – but I question myself once again. Hmph…
And he calls around 11am – wake up, chat chat chat…What the fuck happened last night I don’t remember before getting home. That’s cause me (your psydo gf recognised that we needed to leave and took action, meanwhile she watched you and your other psydo gf rough and tumble all over the living room floor and I – psydo gf, wondered what it is that your actually playing at?)
Right then…now we’ve cleared that one up.
According to the Walters, I’m not losing my mind…but I do have to ask him and he’ll give me an answer. I somehow doubt the truthfulness of it though. And wonder what knowing/not knowing will achieve. Where I’m at? Is this ok?
Sort of.
So there was SEX. FUCKING. FILLING AND BEING FILLED. End.
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