theme: stress/overworked. lesbiasn livving a happey domestic life .
while writing this i listened to: remember summer days (vaporwave - futurefunk - electronic mix) on youtube
this is porn. yeah i write porn. what. you got a problem? you got a fuckng problem???? you wanna scrap bro? meet me behind the fucking arby's. I bet my dick is bigger than yours. thats right i said it you lil fucking raisin.
. u can skip honeslty the porn if u want tho .
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"Thanks for tonight! I had a lot of fun!" Florrie shouted from the porch stairs that led up to where she lived, waving at her friends who were making their way back to the car. They all echoed their goodbyes, phrases like "we should do that again" and "have a great night." Leaning against the railing, she watched as they all piled back into the car and pulled out of the driveway with the crunch of gravel under the vehicle's tires. The ghost of a smile was still on her lips as she watched the car grow smaller in the distance.
Florrie exhaled, her breath coming out in a little visible puff. It was cold and dark out, and all the lady wanted was to crawl into her bed and into the arms of her pretty wife. Florrie turned to her front door and fished out the keys from her pocket, the plastic bags that hung off her arm crinkling as she moved. While unlocking her door, she stopped to admire the lights and decorations she and her wife had put up on account of the the season.
With a turn of the knob, the front door creaked open and Florrie stepped into the dark townhome. A happy buzz still lingered within her, just returning home after a night out with some old friends. The original plan was to do some shopping at the mall, but it was swiftly abandoned in favor of playing at the arcade like they did when they were kids. This was why Florrie was carrying a plastic bag. It was filled with stuffed toys, proof that she was still a master at the claw machine.
She pushed the door shut and locked it with a click, peering into the kitchen area and regarding the time with mild surprise. The green numbers read 2:35 on the microwave. Jeez, it's late, Florrie thought. She paused for a moment and listened for any rustling, but her ears were met with silence.
Tianna should be asleep, then, Florrie thought with relief.
Her wife had seemed restless and unengaged as of late, picking things up and setting them down, wandering around the house as if she was lost. Earlier today they were huddled on the couch together and Tianna couldn't seem to focus on the show they were watching, despite it being her favorite. Florrie couldn't quite place what was wrong. She hated to leave Tianna alone even for a day, but Florrie hadn't seen her friends in a while; simply commanding her to relax and get some rest before she left.
The plastic bags in Florrie's hand rustled as she kneeled down and unlaced her boots, setting them by the shoe rack next to the door. Careful to keep quiet as to not wake anybody, she tiptoed around furniture and into the bedroom only to see that it was still neatly made, no signs of Tianna anywhere.
Dropping the bag of plushies onto the dresser, Florrie unwound her scarf and unbuttoned her coat, tossing them onto the chair that sat before their vanity. She turned on her heel and her eyes landed on the study across the hall and saw the door cracked open with the faintest stream of light leaking out. Of course.
Florrie heaved a sigh. She didn't know what she expected, and her wife being cooped up in the study during the late hours of the night was not a sight that was new to her. But why? As far as she knew, there was no longer a reason for that. Unless...
With a soft push, the door opened and revealed a very dead looking-Tianna. The lady didn't even register Florrie's entry. A desk lamp lit up the area, Tianna's head was resting on one palm with the other on the keyboard, half-lidded eyes on the computer. Florrie quietly approached her spouse, peering over her shoulder to see what she was up to. One of Tianna's fingers rested on the g key, the entire document filling up with that single letter. Florrie felt a flash of amusement at this but it was swept away in the waves of concern, wondering how long her wife had been sitting there.
YOU ARE READING
d rose. d rose. d rose. d rose. d rose. d rose.
Short Story"i wish there was a way to find out how many times you've nutted in total. like when you die your stats appear." - joji