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Nope, that juicy hunk of man-meat has left his grandma here alone while he fucks his way across the country. I can almost guarantee it because my accountants have never looked like that.
As it is, I have cameras all over the hallways of this facility, making sure they’re all safe. No one is hurting my ladies. If they do, I know of ways to dispose of bodies. With just a press of a button, they’d disappear without a trace, never to be found.
“Well, I boss you around anyways, and you always listen to me. Plus, you told me you love me. Too bad, so sad, you’re stuck with me. I was love deprived as a child.”
My therapist says I need to fill that hypothetical affection jar inside of me. And let me tell you, it’s pretty fucking full at the moment.
Although the other day I heard her whisper filthy things to a piece of steak before she bit into it, so perhaps I’m not as close as I think I am.
“And did you hear about how Fred tried to hide that prostitute under his bed last week? They’re talking about kicking him out now,” Martha says. “Serves him right,” Vikki replies. “He should have never shoved that poor lady under there. Treat her with a little respect. At least offer her the closet or the pantry.”
Lexington Cavanaugh only cries when absolutely necessary. I have Teflon skin. I am a motherfucking lizard person.
“Damn things,” Vikki exclaims. “Should just flush them, like cocaine.”
He looks like the type to thank someone after sex. I shudder at the thought. No, I want it dirty and rude.
I want an up-against-the-wall, clothes still on because I’m that desperate for it kind of fuck.
I don’t trust a person who can’t handle the responsibility of watering a real plant once a week.
“Everyone has emergencies, but you have to remember that an emergency on your part does not constitute one on mine.”
If he was literally anyone else, I’d lick him from dick to lips right here in his stuffy office.
Let them write “morally questionable” on my tombstone. I won’t deny it. I live in the grey.
Are you a hungry bug? What kind of food do you eat, William? Brains? Small children? Rodents?
“Don’t judge. I’m a slut for sweets. This is me showing self-restraint.”
“Oh, my fuck,” I mutter, realization dawning. “Do not tell me…” I gasp as he eyes the ground and gnaws at his lip nervously. I use my finger to gently lift his chin and force his gaze to mine. “Was that your first kiss?”
Oh yes, my dick likes that suggestion very much. A little hate tongue-fucking. I’d like that with a side serving of cum.
Brenda is important to me, and you will take her away from me over my dead body.” Like hell I’m giving them up. They’re mine now.
Hello there, William, all aggressive and murdery—it’s so contrary to the innocent milk act from earlier. It sort of makes me want to turn around and bend over for him.
leaning back and grabbing a single-serve cup of vanilla creamer, opening it, and pouring it into my mouth. Because why the fuck not? It’s delicious.
William looks horrified. Oh, he has no idea. Vikki makes out with the entire basket of creamers before she leaves, just dumps them right into her purse, and Martha steals a fork each time we come. Brenda pretends to be an angel, but I see her licking her plate sometimes.
I swear to all that is holy, I thought I was asexual. For thirty years I’ve walked through life not feeling any type of sexual interest in others.
It saluted him with the recognition he deserves, and it hasn’t really gone down since. I’ve jacked off more in the past twenty-four hours than I have in my entire adult life.
He’s fire, and I’m a suicidal moth. I know he’s bad for me, but I can’t stay away.
“I’m going to give you some pointers and then we’re going to practice for as long as you need until you get it just right. No one flunks my class.”
Oh, sweet Jesus. Yes, please.
“I am going to be all your firsts, William.
Oh god yes. Show me all of them. Everyday. Just attach your lips to my skin.
I’d usually be irritated with someone looking so arrogant, but he’s so fucking hot that all I can do is lean forward and smash my lips to his. All of my concerns about him fade away in the haze of my lust.
God, why is that so hot? In theory, it’s disgusting, all the germs and spit being exchanged, but in practice, it is making my dick leak. My boxers are completely damp.
Holy shit, this is hot.
“And long. You came for like an entire minute. I’m kind of jealous.”
“I liked it. I really fucking liked that. I want to do that again,”
I want everything that is Lex, apparently.
“Sexy, isn’t it?” he says gesturing to his computer set up, but my eyes are locked on him. Yeah, he is.
“Yes, being naked for this wouldn’t be a chore. Tell me, do you have freckles everywhere?”
are those lace panties? Does he wear those? Shit, I want to see that. Why the hell is that so hot?
Everything about this man is pure sex. Must cease and desist. Abort. Abort!
“And you do have freckles everywhere. Will you let me trace them with my tongue?”
I need more than just a glass of water to quench this thirst inside of me.
It’s almost symbolic. Lex luring me into his apartment, threatening to swallow me whole.
He’s all metal and ink, makeup and chaos.
Hell, it’s a sight. It’s completely hedonistic.
God, keep talking. I could come from just listening to you. Talk Lex-isms to me.
I cannot continue to shoot my mess everywhere like a geyser. This is not Yellowstone National Park.
It just wants out of this chair and onto his lap. It wants to sit on his sexy pierced dick.
Oh god, whatever it is, I won’t survive it. My dick is going to fall right off from overuse.
“Bye, love. See you soon.”
She thoroughly enjoyed humiliating me. I’m convinced estheticians are just sadists who learned how to turn their proclivities into a profitable business.