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Amber 1-844-332-2639 ext 404

I glanced at the screen, and a name I hadn’t seen in over a year popped up: Scott. My ex-boyfriend, Scott. I stared for a second, wondering if it was some kind of mistake. Then the text itself loaded: ‘Hey, it’s Scott. Got a new phone, wanted to make sure you had my number.’ Um, why? Seriously. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, but a reply felt unnecessary. What could he possibly want? And why now, after all this time? It’s been a full year since we spoke, since he walked in on me and Greg, since our whole world imploded.

I mean, ‘imploded’ sounds dramatic, but for me, it was more like a necessary demolition. Scott had become a lump. When he lost his job, I tried to be supportive, I really did. But days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and he just moped around the apartment, expecting me to pick up all the slack. Rent, groceries, bills – it all fell on my shoulders. It was overwhelming, frustrating, and frankly, I was drowning. I just needed an escape, you know? Something, anything, to make me feel alive again.

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Stroking Is Your Sex Life

Belle 1844-332-2639 X 444

To the outside world, you appear happy and successful, as if you’ve got it all together. Great job, beautiful wife, giant house. Men should want to be you, and women should want to be with you, but they have no idea it’s just a facade.

You’re a fucking loser, and stroking is your sex life.

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Pathetic

Belle 1844-332-2639 X 444

Between classes, I snuck outside for a quick smoke. I didn’t have time to grab my coat, so I wrapped my arm around myself and bounced in place. The hot air from my breath puffed in the frozen air, making it hard to tell between smoke and breathing, so I figured I could get away with it so long as no goody two shoes caught me and tattled.

My fingers pinched the butt as I sealed it between my lips and inhaled. I held my breath as a noise behind me caught my attention. Whipping around, I saw Pathetic Patrick shivering behind me. His eyes were glued to my thighs, and his lips were parted in awe. “B-Belle?” I puffed the smoke I was holding in his face, and he whimpered out a moan.

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Kayla Cumsalot 1844-33-CANDY ext 357

Oh, hello, son! Welcome home! How was your day today? Oh, someone was mean to you? That’s too bad! Although is it really a surprise? When was the last time you cut your hair? Look how long it’s gotten! And don’t give me that “I’m too busy” line. I know you sit in your damn room and play video games and jerk off all day. And look at you. You don’t make that much money; you have to live with your mommy, and it’s a little pathetic, to be honest. I’m kind of sick of you not contributing to this household. You need to be punished! I’ve been far too lenient with you, get over here!
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