So yesterday *****e* texts me. No, actually it was a bootycall: "Whatcha doin'?" "What time are you free tonight?" I knew instantly what that meant. She has the house all to herself and she's broke and she is asking if I can cum over and fuck her brains out. Score!
Well, wait ... I lost my last job 2 1/2 weeks ago, and even though my new job starts Monday, knowing my luck I will have missed the cutoff and need to wait three more weeks in order to get paid. Last time I checked my bank accounts I was hovering just above two grand. And I just got a handjob from ******e Wednesday. There's no need for me to bust my nut a second time in three days. But ... but ... but ... she's alone and she's waiting for you!
OK, I'll do it! I'll come over (after a hell of a lot of wrangling about what time can you be here and my hate for being blindsided with plans the day of) and schtup her. I've lusted to do her alone in her house for a long time, and finally this is my chance, and I won't pass it up!
So I rush out after dinner at home, get to the ATM, make sure my porno pants are unbuttoned (although I put on underwear; I had an art show to get to after that) and drove over to *****e*'s house, hoping to get my libido raring so I could get hard. And then I drive up to see ... a bunch of guys and at least one stripper.
Oh, I'm not going to be alone. This is a party. A fucking party.
I kind of lay into *****e* for that. I thought she was being misleading. No, no, no ... she was being misleading. I guess I could have asked, "Are you having a party?" but she should have said, "I'm having a party, wanna come?" But she didn't, and that made me think she had the house all to herself before her kid had to come home. For that reason I was pissed off. I really just wanted to read her the Riot Act and leave. But ... I wanted that pussy. Plus, I didn't want to do anything to her that she could hold against me at a point where I did have money and really, really wanted to fuck her.
Being blindsided like this is usually a sign to me that I shouldn't go through with it. But as long as I was there, and as long as she held to the $100 I agreed to, well, I went through with it. I fucked *****e*. Actually, I kind of hate-fucked the shit out of her. But I think I gave it to her enough where she had an orgasm, or at least she made enough moaning sounds to act like she came. And she replied to my thank-you text, even though I got that text this morning. I think I got my money's worth, but I could just be trying to convince myself that I did.
(By the way, I noticed with *a*** last week and *****e* yesterday that for maximum, uh, fucking position while they were lying down on the bed, they splayed their legs up wide. Is that the position in order to stick in a penis for ideal comfort and pleasure? I tried to swing my arms behind *****e*'s knees in order to keep her legs up while I was crushing her, but dammit, that was difficult!)
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OK, so I know I am in a world of hurt financially. I am back to avoiding looking at my checking account whenever possible. (I haven't done that much while I've been unemployed, but after blowing $100 under deceptive circumstances, I'm downright ashamed to look now.) And it could be until -- gulp -- August 17 before I get paid again. Well, I get paid from my U. experiments, but since I'm starting work again, I can't do those anymore.
I got paid last on the 17th, I think. It could be upwards of a month where no significant money comes in. I really, really cannot afford to spend any more money, so I hope to Buddha I have the strength to lock myself down and commit to keeping my wallet closed. Going back to work helps; I can only, you know, work, and not spend money. And if I do have to spend money, I've got a gift card from one U. experiment, another (hopefully) coming from a taste test early next month, and, if necessary, I'll charge expenses to my credit card. That's what credit cards are for, right?
But golly, I just need to show some self-control. Three more weeks, three more weeks. ...
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