Four

My dear,

I missed you last night; not you cuddling me and waking me up for a bit of morning fuckery – I never had that from you after all. I missed you allowing me to rest my chin on your chest and look into your eyes as we talk about things. That was rare, and much appreciated. Fucking idiot, mysterious and all, making me stay in bed naked for hours trying to understand.

Some men turn girls into women because they offer them love and cock and cum on their tits. Just my luck that I was a lad at heart and for a few days after every time you stopped by, I would be irrational and groan at the thought that I wanted more. Fuck me, right?

But looking back, it was nothing. It is nothing. It will always be nothing. And it’s funny, because I said I’d never do that whole pinning thing again. Haha, fuck me sideways. Oh, wait. I’m writing this because I’m hyper, bordering on high and since my feelings are enhanced and all that bullshit, I need to get this off my chest. Much like cum.

I’m glad it was just a body I needed, and not you as a person, because my dear… you’re royally fucked. Do you even understand the irony of that statement? Cause I do. I’m looking at you through my lashes, and I want nothing more than to punch some sense into your stupid head. I can’t be too harsh with you, because I’ve been there and I know how you feel. But fuck it, darling. You might as well smash your head against a wall – that should hurt less.

Being a doormat is not a career choice, no matter how confused you are. It’s been the longest time since you and I were together for a brief time. I still think of you. I also pity you. You make my bipolar tendencies have a ball. You make my insides churn in both a good way and a bad way. I fucking hate you and I’d love to fuck you. Do you see what I mean?

Get a grip, my dear. When you come to your senses, you can also come see me. I’ll always kneel for you. Just because it feels that good.

If you find yourself among these lines, don’t tell me about it. No one else will know who you are. So don’t worry.

As far as I’m concerned, if your pretty eyes roll in pleasure and I get to see them… my job is done.

Lots of love (mostly lust),

Jo.

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