I miss you so fucking much. Why can’t you give me what I want? You know how much I strive to be the best writer-wench there ever was, the one, Grush.... I can’t do that without you filling me with inspiration.You leave me no choice but to rub one off in the subject line. Alone.==========Subject Line: Take This, Word-WhoreGrushaVashnadze: You fucking needy, clichéd cumslut.Is acting like a pathetic pastiche the best trope you can come up with?If you want my message up your tight inbox, slut,. Your quarters are small has a smallancient refrigerator and a small stove and no TV but has a radio."Jake said, "There ain't really anything worth watching from what Isee."Josh laughed and said, " Looks like we will get along fine. By the waywhere was your tour?"Jake said, "Da Nang."Josh said, "I heard that was hairy."Jake said, "It wasn't boring."Josh said, "I never understood Viet Nam not like the war I was in oreven Korea but Viet Nam I believe was the war for the boys on the Hillto. Better to take my punishment and move on. But it was too late. I heard Mr. Shaver’s chair creek as he leaned back, his heels hitting the desk, one bye one.“Continue, Miss Cranston,” he said. I heard him light up a cigarette.“Pete Townsend always feels me up in the elevator, sir. I---I don’t like it when he puts his fingers in me.”“That’s no excuse,” he said sternly, “Now take off those panties and come here.” Cool air rushed over me as I pulled the panties down, kicking them off with one. Then he leaned down towards my neck, and began licking it slowly."What are you doing?" I wondered, as I giggled."Licking you," he confessed.I just giggled some more, and let him have some fun with his tongue. He got close, and I felt that he had wood."You find something you like down there?" he pondered."Maybe," I let him know."Do you mind, if I take my fiancé to bed?" he inquired."I'd like nothing better," I told him.He picked me up, with my legs in one arm, and my back in the other. He turned.