Page 33 of Whiskey Splash

Arie:Then just have fun. He’s a fantasy. Enjoy it.

Esme:He’s a real person!

Arie:Who wants you to come on his face.

Esme:He didn’t tell you about that did he!

Arie:Wait, what?!

Esme:Nothing.

Arie:This is a text message. You can’t pretend you didn’t type what you just sent.

Esme:Forget it!

Arie:Absolutely not. Tell me everything right now, or it’s going to be my first topic of discussion next time I see him.

Esme:Good night, Arie.

Arie:Your death sentence.

Esme:It’s not like I haven’t embarrassed myself in every way possible already. So, you won’t really do any damage.

Arie:Great point. There’s nothing to lose. Go to his room right now and tell him exactly how you like it.

Esme:Arie!

Arie:Called your bluff, now didn’t I? But seriously, tell him what gets you off. Guys like direction. It’s always better for both of you when you have a real orgasm.

Esme:I’m turning my phone off now!

Arie:When’s the date?

Esme:Friday.

Arie:Plenty of time to go all in on those free spa treatments. Wax the drapes and moisturize. Men love a bald pussy.

Esme:Wow! Your tactfulness is truly profound.

Arie:If you want to come on his face … again … and again … and again … Trust me, secret weapon.

Esme:Is that what you did with Connor?

Arie:No. I rode him like a bull and showed him who’s the boss. But yes, I keep an impeccable pussy.

Esme:I look forward to the day when we have an actual conversation that could be hadin front of our grandmother.

Arie:I can’t change my nature.

Esme:Touché.

Arie:Just go on the date. Be yourself.

Esme:Most cliché advice ever.

Arie:WWAD = What Would Arie Do

Esme:Worst advice ever.

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