You’re so mad you bothered to shave your legs and straighten your hair for this dud. He lied about his height. He lied about his age. You were horny enough to let that slide, but he kept showing you pictures of his car and call of duty memes on his phone the whole time.
I’m sorry that happened to you. I want to turn your night around. Come see me. I will take care of you. I’ll tell you how sexy you look in that dress. I’ll load you a bowl. Or pour you a glass of wine. Or make you a cup of coffee. Or rub your shoulders and feet. I’ll let you vent about online dating or your boss or your family. I’ll tell you stupid jokes or talk to you about your favorite bravo show or true crime podcast.
Or I will shut the fuck up, and without a word deliver some of the most incredible head you’ve ever experienced. You’ll forget about the tinder dud, your shitty boss, or climate/political/cultural catastrophes. Pretty soon you won’t have a single thought in your mind. Washed out by wave after of pleasure.
Come and see me. Let me take care of you. I can host at my apartment in Hollywood. I’m tall and hot. Over 6 feet, barrel chested, great hands and forearms. Blond hair and baby blue eyes. I’m ready to take care of you tonight and forever. Come.
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