My threshold for withstanding male douchery has been maxed out this year and now I have no desire for another dick.
Literally.
And literally.
He's married.
MA-REE-DUH.
And it's not like I haven't been the other woman before.
I have been several times.
Lots of times.
Way too god damn many times why are men who aren't available always wanting to see me naked?
But when he found me on Facebook I was more curious because we'd dated briefly one summer years back and he'd kinda been an ass then.
And now he was messaging me about how I was looking just as bombshell as the moment he saw me at Nordstrom.
Geez, Asshole, I fucking forgot you even ran into me at Nordstrom.
It's nice to know you're still in someone's spank bank, isn't it?
What a fucking romantic.
But like any idiot girl curious by the attention I allowed it.
I didn't flirt back but I did respond, which I guess makes me an asshole by proxy.
It is great to hear your voice! Thru messages I can hear it almost...It might be dangerous to actually hear your voice.
So I wrote back, Don't worry, I started smoking last year and now I sound like an old man.
Flirting skills on point.
This is why I get all the men with girlfriends and wives.
That and my boobs.
I think men assume women with large breasts are whores.
Because really, what else are those for if not, THEIR enjoyment?
But I didn't really take him seriously except that I did notice his behavior started to have the familiarity of 5 years ago.
He was the type of guy to send you a good morning text every day.
Which drives me fucking bananas.
Good morning!
Whaa--yeah, it's morning, fine what do you want?
The only person whose allowed to text me all day is Amelie and that's because we're soul mates.
I don't know why I was even texting him back except it was so fucking entertaining and it was nice to be amused by something instead of feeling sad all the time.
He has kids, by the bye.
Did I mention he has kids?
All of his Instagram is photos of his OSU clad family.
I fucking hate the color orange.
Oh and hey buddy?
The Beavers fucking suck.
GO DUCKS!
But you know, it's cool, he just wanted to flirt, and it must be hard having a picture perfect family, he must get real bored.
There's a post a few months ago where he captioned a photo of him and his wife, As we embark on our evening journey (BARF) I can't help but think of all the ways you've changed my life. You've shown me what family means...
HUOHOP.
I have to stop there because I can feel the actual bile rising in my throat.
Because then, oh look, what happens next?
What's that he just sent, Reese?
It's a photo of his cock.
Big deal. So original, right?
Oh but wait.
It's a photo of his cock IN BETWEEN HIS WIFES BREASTS AS SHES LICKING IT.
I'd say sucking him off but he's not actually long enough to make it to her mouth so the poor girl is working real hard while he takes a fucking photo to SEND TO OTHER WOMEN.
Now, don't get me wrong.
If they were swingers or had an open marriage?
Fine. Whatever.
Non monogamous poly sexy fun times to be had by all.
But they're not.
He actually wanted to text because the wifey sometimes checks Facebook.
Dear Lord.
And she has no idea.
She has two kids with this man she probably thinks is this wonderful husband and he has probably been cheating on her this whole time.
If I recall, that's why his first wife left him.
Because he'd cheated.
I don't know why he suddenly reached out.
He'd written It was hard for me to not reach out once I stalked through your Instagram...
Fucking flatterer.
And me, the Diva who eats that shit up.
Ugh. Gross.
And then we suddenly escalate from do you wanna grab lunch sometime and catch up to here's my wife's tits and my in-case-you-forgot-how-average-I-was cock.
I'm home sick in bed so I took a nap then woke up to a penis.
Typical day.
I responded the only way I could.
I deleted his texts.
Blocked his number.
Blocked him on Facebook.
Blocked him on Instagram.
That's one good thing about living in the digital age.
It is actually simple to erase someone from your life.
And curiouser, he'd asked me where I worked and I never told him.
Something inside me didn't want him knowing where to find me.
Guess my Douchebag senses went off.
Maybe there's hope for me after all.
I'm also never letting a guy photograph his dick in my mouth.
Be in the moment, you epic asshole.
Fucking hell.
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