Fv(k $h!t

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We got a motel room but didn’t use it. We fucked out behind the pool shed. In the car. On the railroad tracks. Between the rails. The ties and cinders digging into my back with each thrust. That was the only time she was on top. By that time my ass was so worn out ragged I couldn’t even come. I didn’t care. Neither did she.

I mean this internet is a great thing. I wasn’t looking for her but I found her. You know? How great is that? How great is that.

But then she wanted to go get something to eat, something like Dunkin Donuts or McDonald’s or something. I was fucked out and cashed out. So she said, Don’t worry, honey, even though we had only met about ten hours earlier, clean, sober and waiting for the awkward introductions to pass, and patted my thigh waking up my sleep starved dick. It’s on me for last night. And I thought, shit fuck, NOW she whips out the cash. Fucking internet.

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