Folks didn't talk to me again tonight -- are they mad at me? Until then, a story about something not terrible. ...
So my ATF, the one I get most of my handjobs from for money, lost her cellphone for, like, the third time since I met her. This time was different, and a little more harrowing: She got jumped near her trailer by a chick who was jealous of her because she believed ***e* was hitting on her man. I saw the black eye she tried to conceal with makeup the last time I flashed her. I trust her.
Before she could get a new phone and number, she borrowed one from her friend, who I think was a host of a house party I once went to and whom I also showed my weiner. (It was close and I'm glad I got away with it; she opened the bathroom while I was in it, asked jokingly if she could see my penis, and without any other guys passing by the open door, I got her attention and took it out. If she is the girl I'm thinking about, she reacted by saying, "Woo-hoo!" Let's just pretend she really was excited.) ***e* said that this was going to be her phone until she got a new one.
Well, up to last weekend I didn't hear otherwise, so I texted her out of the blue. Nothing dirty, I just wanted to say hi. I got a text back: "Who is this?" Whoops, I may have texted one of her older numbers from one of the other times she lost her phone, and I didn't update my cell's phonebook. Well, I tried again yesterday, sending it to what I thought was this latest number, the one that actually was her friend's. But I got the same message, except that she outed herself as "****i**." Funny, I don't remember a ****i** hosting a party. There is another girl named ****i** that used to strip at My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division) and whom I have talked extensively here about her tits so big that she lets me chew down on them like I'm teething. But her texting language didn't make me think it was her.
Nonetheless, I'm intrigued. I told this ****i** who I was and said that I texted her because I had no other contact information for ****i**. Recognizing who she was and I think who I was, she texted back, "Us 3 need 2 get together sometime." And even though I was in my car after work, my dick got sprung!!!
I could barely contain my brain from thinking about the three of us, ***e*, ****i** and I sitting around a dining table getting shit-faced, then me whipping out my dick and leaning back, pointing to it. And then they both take turns slobbering on me cock. I tried to both confirm and extend this dream by texting back, "I hope we can do that, for drinks and for something more." See what I did there? I was inviting them to sex.
So I thought she was on my wavelength. But you know what she texted back? "Sounds good" There isn't even a period at the end. I can't think of a worse way for your dick to shrink than thwarted pervertedness. Two words without a period shows a rushed mind, action without thought. This is her saying, "Oh, you're hunting for sex? Well, good luck with that."
I will tell ***e* about this and ask her both about ****i** and the possibility to go for drinks, just the three of us, and something more. I've got little else to cling to, guys.
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