My mouth watered, and I moaned. The buns were so close, yet so far. I wanted to squeeze them. They were so thicc and fresh, so young...
I stared in anticipation at my hotdog bun, wanting to bite it. I had been sent to jail for hot dog theviry, and had been sentenced to staring at a hot dog bun for eternity.
My wrists were chafed, my arms starining against my restraints. I reached for the buns, but to no avail. A nearby guard walked by, laughing at me as I reached for the buns. I flipped him off, and he snarled at me.
"You're buns aren't even thicc, ya loser!" He barked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out two hot dog buns, both in pristine condition.
"These are what true buns look like," he bragged, holding the buns in front of my face and taunting me. I lunged for the buns. What I would give to have a face full of buns...
"I'll give you a bite if you bite my buns," he smirked.
TO BE CONTINUED
