From Jorge R (subject–re:Booty Call Agreement Post):
Look, I am not looking to be a pussy, whipped bastard, especially one of many. How about this? You won’t even need alcohol. I will fuck you, and i know you will like it, so much that you will hate me for it. I’ve had ex’s, that i broke up with calling me in the middle of the night, pist as hell because they just fucked tha new guy, but i remain the best. I will never ask “was it good”, because you will not be able to say anything with your face stuck on extra, important smile. I know i won’t be the biggest, but i will at the very least be in the top three best lays, if not first. So what do you say? Wanna see a picture, i sent one with this. So go ahead, let me know.
Dear Jorge,
How delighted I am that you were able to look past the satirical tone of my tongue-in-cheek contract to see the truth–that I am a passion-depraved sex kitten just looking to be eviscerated by your sugar-crusted (with a hint of cinnamon), burning hotrod of man-churro. I am glad that you don’t want to be another one of my pussy-whipped bastards, as the last one could not even make me a proper blanquette de veau with rice pilaf while simultaneously giving me a Thai foot massage while reciting his praise of me in iambic pentameter. Blanquette de veau with rice pilaf!! I don’t even know what that is! That’s the last time I agree to host an impressionable, wide-eyed university exchange student from Europe and keep him chained up in my home. But I digress. I would love to have my face stuck on “extra, important smile,” as I am currently looking for ways to get my face unstuck from “eyes profoundly crossed from masturbating nonstop in public places.” And don’t worry about not being the biggest. My penis is massive enough for the both of us.
Tingling with anticipation,
Your cross-eyed love kitten,
Julia