Page 73 of Last Round

Killian: Good, I’m glad you agree.

Killian: If you want me to eat your pussy until you pass out, don’t say anything…

Killian: I agree. As excited as I am to test out the effectiveness of my new little addition, I probably need to let it heal for a few more days. It’s a tad tender.

Killian: Wait, it’s bingo night! You should be slow as fuck. Did Hank lose the blackout? Do I need to break up a fight?

Killian: Molly?

Killian: If I don’t hear back in five, I’m coming down there.

Killian: I told Sean I needed to stay on for Wednesday nights. Those bingo people are vicious. One time Mrs. Watson bit me. Yeah, that little old lady bit me when I tried to pick up and toss out her used-up cards. Those dentures are sharp. She drew blood.

Killian: Okay, putting my pants on.

Killian: My shoes…

Killian: I’m debating on a shirt…

Me: Oh my god, you’re such a dork.

Killian: There you are. I was getting worried. What’s going on? Is it Mrs. Watson?

Me: No, just a new shitty manager.

Killian: What? Sean hired a new manager?

Me: Jessica…

Killian: You’re joking, right?

Me: I wish I were.

I take a selfie with the clogged toilet in the background and the plunger in my hand, then send it to him.

Me: I chose this to escape the two of them. I’m going to plunge and clean it, then throw up and clog it again.

Killian: That’s the men’s room? Why isn’t Sean cleaning that?

Me: Long story. I’ll tell you later.

Killian: So you are coming over?

Me: I’ll be there in a couple of hours.

Killian texts a video of himself obscenely licking an ice cream cone, with the caption:warming up.

Me: Good. I’m drinking a double espresso before I leave here. I’m going to be up all night.

Killian: Good thing I took the morning off. We can play a game to see who quits first: my tongue or your pussy.

Fed Up

Molly

Myforkclanksonthe plate as I push around my dinner.

“So,” Jessica draws out, triggering a headache. Which happens pretty much every time she opens her mouth. The only good part about their obscenely gross make-out sessions is that my brother’s tongue down her throat also shuts her up. “Any luck finding a new place?” she asks casually before taking a bite of her dinner.

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