Not That I’m Still Pissed
This was a common occurrence with one of my ex-boyfriends: we’d wake up in the morning, I’d try to nuzzle up on him for a morning quickie, he’d brush me off and go to the restroom for his morning dump. He would sit in there for ten, twenty minutes, and then sometimes I’d hear a little moan.
The bastard was looking up porn on his phone, or worse–looking at the pictures of girls in my copy of Cosmopolitan.
Dude. You do NOT turn down sex and then turn around and whack off in the bathroom WHERE I CAN HEAR YOU.
