Tag: Loser boyfriend

loser

Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

My phone buzzed on the counter, startling me out of my morning scroll. “Hey, it’s Scott. Got a new phone and wanted you to have my number.” Scott…SCOTT?! My mind did a full-body cringe. “Um, why?” I muttered to the empty kitchen. Not just why send it, but why bother letting me know? The memory of why we weren’t together ambushed me, as it always did, though the sharp edges had dulled to a dull ache of annoyance.

Scott had lost his job early last year. Not that he was fired, not that he quit for something better, he just floundered. And then he spent MONTHS moping around our apartment, turning into this hollow shell of a man, expecting me to magically fix everything and support us both. UGH, it was overwhelming. And so, so frustrating. Every day was a weight, an anchor dragging me down. I just needed an escape, you know? A breath. A moment where I wasn’t carrying the entire world on my shoulders.

Continue reading “Hey, it’s Scott.” →

xXx Francie xXx 844-332-2639 x 208

A night out at the club was exactly what I needed to melt my stress away. I put on my slutiest dress and tallest heels, ready for a night of flirting, but then my boyfriend announced he was coming with me. My eyes rolled, but I agreed; I wouldn’t let a little thing like a “boyfriend” keep me from having a good time.

We separated once we got to the club. It was crowded, and music pulsed through the space like it was alive. I writhed with the rhythm and let the stress sweat from my pores. My boyfriend found me, of course, pressing his tiny hard-on against my hip as if it would excite me. Needing something better, I turned to another man who’d been eyeing me throughout the night. The tent in his pants was much larger when it pressed to my buttocks. “Hold my purse,” I yelled over the music to my boyfriend while shoving my clutch at his chest. Then I took Mr. Bigger Tent by the hand and led him to the bathroom.

Continue reading “Freshly Fucked” →