Stories for slampieces

Sunday, August 29, 2010


Sometimes boyz suck. There is no other way to describe it. You put yourself out there basically begging them to fuck your bones dry and then they leaving you hanging for a beer with their bros. Fortunately, we have class on our side. Sorostitutes know when and how to turn a “turned down” situation into an opportunity. Like tonight for example, a fucking GDI begged me last night to come over and “chill” when in reality he couldn’t resist this for one second. He ignored my texts today. WHY??? Because I drunk texted him first. I broke the rule. My intoxicated brain said fuck the first thing that comes to your mind and that’s about it. So here we are with nobody to blame but myself.

Boyz are the most tricky and ultimate essence of a sorostitute. Nothing completes us like wrapping a guy around our finger and making him bow down to us just for a little BJ. WE OWN THIS SHIT. Our territory is whom we’ve fucked and who we’ve had our eye on for the last week. It’s the guy on our radar (and the one right after that) that makes us tick. Make them fall in love and leave them hanging. Had I listened to my inner sorostitute I would’ve been drunk sexting some little fucker right now instead of whining over the small dick that didn’t text me back. Am I angry? Yes. Am I defeated? In your dreams, bitch.

No comments:

Post a Comment