And sometimes...sometimes I have so much fun, I can't believe they're paying me. And sometimes I feel all of that within about a half hour. But hey, i...t could be worse. I could be stranded in bumfuck Egypt somewhere. Or still at home dealing with my asshole stepf@ther.”“Oh, that reminds me. I've been trying to reach your folks. Well, your m0ther anyway. And I can't seem to find a time to call when the asshole's not home. He always answers. I've had to hang up twice and I don't want to keep doing. Her fingers flashed over her hood so vigorously that I could hear it. Quiet slaps sounded from her breasts swinging into each other and against her chest. Increasingly loud and sharp whimpers burst from her lips.An especially energetic slam of her hips caused me to slip free. I grunted in pain, but I doubt she heard it over her desperate whimper. She surprised me with how quickly she managed to grab my cock and slam back down on it. A moment later, I felt a drop of wetness meandering down. Occasionally, she would suggest a drinking game, sometimes one of the drinking games that she and her friends would play, like beer pong, sometimes one of the games that I taught her, like Circle of Death or Red/Black. This night, we decided on Circle of Death. Now, if you are not familiar with the game, it is a game that uses a deck of cards and goes something like this: 2 thru 5, the player takes that many drinks 6 thru 9, the player gives out that many drinks (although we modified this. On a really good night, she'd lick her fingers clean, her blue eyes locked on mine. Hell, it kept things simple. Fucking fine with me.Months followed weeks. A summer was lost in an alcoholic blur. Sometimes during the day I'd puzzle over our bizarre relationship, and whether it was really a relationship at all. Sometimes at night, while she danced, I wondered how long it could possibly last. One answer scared me. More ice, please?"I'm quitting. Tonight's my last night." So, you waited till the.