I was planning on going to a stripper party in N. Minneapolis because ***e* invited me. Thought we were going to have a wanktastic time. But after a half-hour of looking at the dilapidated front window all taped out, then going the dirty upstairs to a locked door (with a broken heater right next to it), ***e* texted and said the party was off.
So I go home, dejected. But then out of the blue the host, whose name looks familiar, texts me. She says she got home and is ready to do a private -- a lot for $150. Now, her place is a dump, I'm going to a shady area of Minneapolis, and honestly, I don't know if this is the person who I had seen before. I could be totally whipping it out on a total stranger. And yet, because I'm a perv, I'm going to be doing this early this evening.
All my dreams of being a professional? Yeah, right now, I am so glad I gave those up because I'm about to get my dick sucked by a hot girl who needs money.
Wish me luck. And if I die, you know where I was.
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