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Friday, November 25, 2016

Forever Daddy Chapter 13

Forever Daddy
Chapter 13

                  Zoe didn’t get a response after fifteen minutes, so she wrote back.
                  Oh, well. She had no shortage of dinner date offers. Not that she ever ate more than a few bites during them. She usually drank twice the cost of the food each time, and often had a fridge full of nothing but restaurant leftovers. Sure she sucked them off in the parking lot. Before dinner, if they insisted. They always insisted afterwards if they didn’t beforehand. If she was feeling horny, or needy, and Trent wasn’t home – which was often, she had them get a bottle, and brought them home.
                  Zoe didn’t even undress most of the time. She’d be pushed to her knees on her ceramic tile floor as soon as they walked in the door, cock shoved down her throat. She was a tiny girl, but they never cared enough to take it slow and let her stretch it out a bit. Just shoved it in and tried to gag her. Luckily, most of them had average cocks, at best. If she actually liked them, or they were cute and she was feeling particularly nasty, she’d lick their assholes. Inevitably, she would be bent over the couch and fucked hard in the ass. Which was fine. It became what she was used to by now. And she never wanted to get pregnant.
                  To her credit, if the rare person wanted her oft-neglected pussy, she insisted on a condom. But Zoe wasn’t always lucid enough to insure that happened. It was a wonder she had never gotten pregnant, or anything worse than gonorrhea, which happened twice – once in her pussy and once in her throat. She hadn’t even known that was a thing. Half of them were Trent’s friends, or bandmates, which weren’t always in the same group.
                  Zoe fixed a drink, and cut a few lines, and settled down to watch TV. Someone would call or text her. They always did. She told herself that she didn’t care if she heard from Zach again or not. There were plenty more dicks in the sea. And she almost believed it. She checked her Fetlife account three more times that night, to no avail. Finally, she fell asleep on the couch, Roscoe sleeping on her legs, clutching a pillow to her chest.

                  Her dreams were happy ones.