Hello bitches
Today I haven’t had much time to think about the silly boys who call me. The weather is much too pretty for me to stay inside and listen to you whine and plead for permission to touch, or simper about how gorgeous my ass is. Today is the perfect warm weather for me to take a stroll in a tight, sheer sundress and watch boys fall off the curb staring. (Yes that actually happened today, no I don’t think he was hurt, yes I laughed out loud and kept walking.)
I know you’ve been thinking about me, though. You know who you are. You who is required to call me from work every day to ask whether he can fuck his wife tonight. (It’s gonna be no, but I want to hear you beg this evening all the same.)
You who was a very very pathetic bad boy who was too much of a pussy to buy what I told you to. If you think I’m going to let you come, you’re retarded, but we knew that already, didn’t we?
You who draws me the crayon pictures, scans them and sends his childish love letters… along with the “photos”… You’re a good boy. You can have 4. No more, no less.
And to the rest of you, stay tuned. The addiction’s just about to start. Enjoy.
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