I’m going to get fucked this weekend.

Back on Valentine’s day, Belle gave me a card that, according to what was written in it, was good for “one night out”. I pressed her subsequently for more details. Was it just what is said? A night out? No, it meant I’d get to come. Just the one time? Yes. When would I have to go back in? The next morning. Could I use it whenever I wanted or did I need to give her some warning? Etc., etc.

But this morning, as I was groggily walking around the house with a steel tube still full of morning wood plumpness, she told me not to try to use my coupon this weekend because she felt the need to “connect” with her Thumper. I wasn’t going to use it, but it was nice of her to tell me.

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