I think I just had the quickest quickie. It gives the cliche "everything happened so fast" a new meaning. Seriously, I think he left skid marks on my dick. And he couldn't have jumped out of the bed any faster than 3 seconds after blowing his jizzle manizzle.
Yes. I gave in to it again. I failed! I failed! The whore in me prevailed. (Hey that rhymes!)
Although he let me know that he doesn't have much time and needs to be somewhere else, I got a bit surprised at how he acted. On his way out, he even asked me if I've watched the Sex and the City movie. I said yes and he was like, "Narnia?" while opening the door.
"No," I responded.
Then he told me we can watch it on Friday. By this point, he was walking halfway out the door and I don't think he even heard me say text me. WTF?!
It's like he's on some sort of game show where he needs to finish an obstacle course and the final challenge is to sleep with me, after which utter the magic words "let's watch a movie Friday night" in the fastest way humanly possible. Think 'The Amazing Race XXX Edition.'
Is this how busy people have become? Gawd.
Am I being punk'd?
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