No, Jake isn't gone forever. He's just gotten predictable an..

No, Jake isn't gone forever. He's just gotten predictable and honestly boring. Doesn't mean I still don't have feelings for him, not to mention my pussy is still madly in love with his dick, but it does feel like maybe we have run our course. Jake is heavily into his work, career, and the spoils that lifestyle brings, and I respect that in a big way... I'm just not on the same path. I don't care about material things all that much, and I'm not looking for someone who needs those things to the point of working 7 days a week to get them. I have what I need, and it's enough for me. Shane is a better fit. Plus, he's half my age and as pervy as it sounds...I like that in a very sexual way. I'll keep you posted.

It's been days since Jeep Week, and I'm still thinking about that twenty-year-old beach god. His body is seared in my head, and my pussy's throwing a tantrum because it didn't get to feed on his cum. I could have emptied his testicles in such a way it would have changed his life forever...for the better.

I might have come off as dick-desperate. I mean, I handed my number over to him in front of his father, so maybe I was a little starved for cock. I did have visions of being his personal fuck toy, wanting to make him smile by emptying his balls in any way he wanted me to. But...crickets. No text, no call, zip. I'd have flung my legs open faster than you can say "beach bod" and let him use me like his own private playground. I'm pointing the finger at his dad, that forty-four-year-old fun-sucker, probably butt hurt that I didn't bat my eyes at him so he cock blocked me like a petty chaperone. It's way easier to believe that than admit the kid might've just swiped left on me—though, ouch, that's possible. My ego's limping, but I'm sticking with the dad-as-villain story. It's less depressing than thinking about his cock might have ghosted me...which is causing my pussy to stage a daily protest at the injustice of it all.