"It is most definitely true, I'll tell you that straight-up, Boris. If you don't believe me then go get my fucking piss checked yourself, you homewrecker." You spat at him, words harsh and biting.
All the while, Boris sat there frozen in place. He hadn't peeped one bit after you slammed the pregnancy test ‐- uncapped and rank -- on the glass table. His face was twisted in a gross combination of fear and disbelief. Mourning-like. But for who, or what?
As if. More like mourning his soon-to-be-ex wife's (sister, too) cauliflower sandwich.
"And—"
"I- I'm sorry," he whispers, too quiet.
"What?"
"I'm sorry."
"I can't hear—"
"I said I'm sorry...." A little louder, but the shame still clouded most of his words.
"I literally can't tell what the hell you're saying, Boris."
"I—"
"Gosh dammit! Louder, you idiot! You can't pull out in time, and now this crippling sense of shame which utterly extirpates your ability to socialize normally within regular human standards?! You're useless!"
Again, he looked stiff as ice in his seat, the only warmth coming from his cheeks and groin.
"You know what?! &$!*%^&........" You ramble on and on, picking the bottom in front of you at the seams which held his mousy ego together until—
"I'M SORRY, MOMMY! PLEASE FORGIVE ME! I PROMISE I'LL BE A GOOD BO—"
A punch swivels right into his jaw, and immediately, a cracking sound resonates throughout the still air. Everyone around you both watch the debacle with wide eyes.
Boris cums in his nasty, crusty, sticky shorts.
YOU ARE READING
My Daddy
Romance[Name] [Last], a woman striving to conquer the educational system with her phenomenal skills in slapping children, falls madly at the feet of one of her student's father. seizure.
