Call someone about a work thing.
Phoebe is watching us! LOL!
Are u my boyfriend? y/n
This is getting sad. Hurry up and come back, Lucy, I’m losing the plot.
Wednesday November 22nd
We had a quick parents’ evening session at Molly’s school tonight to go over how she’s doing. Molly came with us, hanging out in the library with her friends while we headed to the main hall.
Her teacher, Mrs Ali, was a very animated woman who waved her arms around when she spoke, a massive mop of jet black hair bobbing in union with her arms.
‘Molly is a wonderful child!’ she exclaimed, picking Molly’s file from the top of the pile. ‘This really is going to be a short conversation.’
She began to read down her notes. ‘Her reading proficiency is very advanced for her age and she’s showing competency in all other areas of the curriculum. She’s a very happy child and gets on well with her peers. I’ll give you her work jotters to have a look at once we’ve finished here.’
Oliver and I sat together and looked through her work, giggling at the terrible drawings of us and the things she chose to write about in her news book.
My dad triped over his shoos and then my mum was laughing and he ate her biskit.
‘YOU ate my damn KitKat. I knew it!’
‘That kid is such a snitch.’
‘If we ever fuck up big time, Mrs Ali is going to know about it.’
We collected Molly from the library, telling her what an excellent report she received. We treated her to ice cream on the way home as a reward for all her hard work. She was so proud of herself. 10/10 would do this again.
Thursday November 23rd
Oliver was looking particularly fine this morning. So fine, in fact, I decided to email him and wind him the fuck up. Just like the good old days.
From:Phoebe Henderson
To:Oliver Webb
Subject: Question
Did you put something in my coffee before you left this morning, because I have been on heat ever since. I really want you to hear me cum. Please let me know when you’re available for heavy breathing.
From:Oliver Webb
To:Phoebe Henderson
Subject: Re: Question
Of course you would tell me this when I’m about to head into a meeting for the rest of the day, because nothing screams professional like a man with a raging boner.
Can you hold out ’til I get home?
From:Phoebe Henderson
To:Oliver Webb
Subject: Re: Question
This doesn’t suit my need for instant gratification but I guess it’ll have to do. Have a great day and please don’t be distracted by the attached photo; they’re only breasts.
