Family Affair

I have such terrible luck when it comes to finding someone decent in my life to bang exclusively. Perhaps part of that bad luck comes from my wandering eye and lack of respect for myself, and the other part is just shitty cards dealt.

After the ex and I went splitsville in 2015–ish, the down hill spiral of indecencies reached an all time fuckery. Jumping back on the saddle so-to-speak was not as easy as I had hoped. I went from bloke to bloke, hopelessy looking for something a little special.

Feeling down and too clean for myself, I mosied into a divey bar, looking for lonely hearts. Now, I do have standards (somewhat) so I didn’t just hop on back with the first daddy that sauntered my way. I was in the bar for all of two hours, couple scotches in, and a margarita just for kicks, when one mysterious silverfox stepped right on up beside me. He smiled, I smiled (awkward part he wasn’t smiling at me at all, but instead at the bartender passing him his beer…) I also smiled at the bartender, asked for two shots for myself and then I put my head down and died inside…..


Eventually he did notice me and yada yada, small talk and all that useless chitchat, plus my charming personality (especially after sipping  on cheeky bevies),  we ended up back at my place and I think you could imagine what activities we got up to, if you have no imagination I’ll give you a hint….’sexual activities!’

Thinking this was just a one night stand with someone who reminded me of my psych professor in college, when he texted me a few days later I was thrilled. Not only was he a silverfox with daddy written all over him, he was well off, semi-aloof and that was semi-good enough for me.

We would see each other every few days, always ending up at my place. It was nice, consistent, but something was off.

One day he stopped texting. I would text him and nothing. I would send nudes, and beg and do anything a naive little twat would do if she lost her daddy and nothing.

It didn’t last long but I really did like him, and for the eleven or so weeks of us it was semi-something special. Looking to get over this sad, sad episode of my life, I ventured back to the same divey bar, moped around with the same lonely hearts and drank the same cheeky beverages and then some.

At some point, a man approaches the bar. Probably around my age or younger, but looking oddly familiar. I cycled through countless celebs in my head and I simply couldn’t pin point who the fuck he reminds me of. So the bartender hands him his beers and off he goes from whence he sat. Every so often I would glance back at him. Eventually these glances turned into pyscho starring, he then called me over.


I mosied on over, like a miner niner school girl, being asked to sit at the cool kids table. Before I could say a word he  slided a beer my way and asked me to join him. We talked and laughed and the whole time I was still trying to figure out who this strapping young swan was.

At some point the bar closed and we headed back to his place.

And again, I M A G I N A T I O N.

In the morning or noon or whatever fuck time it was, I was awoken to an older lady walking down the steps. She was surprised to see me, and I was just as surprised to see her (primarily because if this kid was fourteen I will s h i t myself). He wasn’t though, just a college kid, living at home in the basement of his parental units ( a fact I usually wouldn’t be so relieved to hear.)

Momsy was very nice, and invited us up for breakfast. Now, usually I would bolt before the sun came up, but I was hung to the tits and hungry as ever. I walked on up, in one of the chap’s shirts, eye liner barely on my eyes and instead outlined my crows feet, and hair still in its rachet, man handle position.

As soon as the plate hit the table I was nom nom noming like no tomorrow. Momsy hollars for daddikins to come join the breakfast party. Foot steps can be heard coming down the stairs and then nothing. I look up to catch a breather from my inhaltion of susbstinance, when …..Mr. Silvefox, who is oh so handsome and so daddy and reminds me of my pysch college professor is standing in the door way. He looks at me, I look at him. He looks at his son, I look at his wife, mom and son look at each other, I look at the scraps of food on my plate and die inside.





All I can say is watch out momsy, I may just be tired of dudes for a little while.

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