”“I remember those days. I got sick of eating potatoes after a while. If it wasn’t potatoes, it was pasta for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”�...With a tomato sauce made from the packets of ketchup from burger places. A little water, some oregano, a touch of garlic salt, and you have poor man’s spaghetti sauce.”“Do you remember Mrs. Johns?”“That was a dear old lady. I don’t know how many times she played that old - it’s buy one and get one at half price.” Imitating her voice, he said, “I want to. They’d met briefly at the wedding and that was all. ‘I don’t think it’s right that I would,’ Maisie sniffed. ‘Not after I hurt her so much. I think I should stay with Tanya.’ ‘Are you sure, Maisie sweetest?’ worried Susan. ‘She doesn’t sound like she’s looking after you at all well. I know some people like the kind of treatment you’re getting, and I guess those two men, Anthony and Karl, probably do. You often meet people like that in my industry. But you’re not like that are you?’ ‘Like. Eventually, she would open her nightgown exposing her mounds of pleasure and let me put her head in her lap. Then, like a nursing mother, she would hold two fingers around her nipple and “feed” it to me like a baby. God, how I liked sucking her nipples like a c***d would and she loved it as well quite often reaching down and slowly stroking my hard and leaking cock.As I sucked her nipple, I would eventually find a way to slide my hand up under my head and start to rub her pussy. The harder I. If he even cares about me to begin with? Etc, etc, etc. Insert standard sadness shit here, blah... As you know, I struggle with trying to distract myself with other tasks or activities that might help take my mind off how unworthy I feel - and how much wine I've consumed in recent months - but nothing is helping. I can't even find someone who is willing to hold me for longer than a few hours, without it being in between meaningless sex. Hell, at this point, even a friend would be nice. Someone.