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“Do you want to fuck me?” the bluenette gasps, looking up at me with hungry eyes.
I grab her head and push her mouth back down on my cock.
When I picked these three up, I thought the accent was going to be a turn-on.
Instead, it turns out that it just fucking annoys me. And when I’m getting head from three Parisian bimbos at once, the only person who should be getting annoyed is 32-fucking-D.
So where the hell is she?
I know for a fact that she’s gotta be in her apartment. I swear, the only time she ever leaves is to go out for coffee with her mouthy blonde friend.
Otherwise, she’s sitting at home, doing whatever the fuck it is that 32D does when I’m not getting laid—and yelling at me through the floorboards when I am.
But apparently, not tonight.
It crosses my mind that she might be out on a date. All work and no dick isn’t a way for anyone to live—especially not a woman as fine as 32D is.
I bet she’s got no fucking problem getting dates, either. Even though I have her pegged as a fucking shut in—she probably has to turn down twelve marriage proposals daily on the way to that coffee shop alone.
A woman like her…of course she’s on a date.
Probably with another pretentious asswipe who doesn’t fucking deserve her.
That shouldn’t piss me off so bad…
But, Christ. It does. It fucking does.
“Are you okay?” the bluenette asks.
She’s giving me that look that says, Put it in me, and I figure, yeah, I probably ought to…
Then I hear it.
Not 32D’s thumping on the floorboards beneath me.
Not her shrill little voice yelling up through her ceiling.
But instead…a firm little knock on the door.
I make the blonde one answer.
And then there she is.
32D in all her hot, angry, sweater-clad glory.
She’s seriously wearing next to nothing. A sweater that barely covers her sexy little ass. A pair of long socks that go up to her thighs. Glasses—good lord, those sexy fucking glasses.
There’s a look on her face that says she’s here to start some shit. I get twice as hard as I already am, just anticipating what that shit might be.
What can I say? I fucking love me a mouthy, nerdy little brunette.
“32D.” I put on my most charming grin and salute both above the waist and below it.
“33D,” she says back.
“Neighborly visit?”
“Hardly.”
