The elevator door yawns open and the four people around me pile into the cramped space. “Vamonos.” Someone is waving me inside but I smile and wave them off. The elevator door closes its mouth and swallows the people whole. I push the elevators up button and step back looking at my reflection in the door’s shine.

Marcos was tipsy enough to not care but I couldn’t help but turn red with embarrassment. After a few hours of having at a great time at the party, we’ve decided to crash at my place for the night.

He laid his head on my breasts for the remainder of the night until he left this morning. I’m still worn out from the fucking that I’ve had last night! Now, I’m wondering how to reply to Marcos’ text which said:

I became a lawyer because this was my parents’ desire. Like a good daughter, I wasted four years of my life studying something I couldn’t relate to. I wanted to become an anthropologist and now I am a Corporate Lawyer in busy London. Lucky me, right?

I had to buy myself a new diary because my old one fell out of my bag while I was getting off the train from the Centrale FS station. I hope that the person who has picked up my book is enjoying all of the sex stories that I’ve written in it.

It was November and I needed to escape my work for a little while.
The stress of working at the restaurant started to fill my head up with bad moods, so I begged my boss if I could book a fortnight of my annual leave to jet off somewhere I didn’t have to think about the stress. Somewhere I didn’t have to think about my hassles, my worries, or the rude customers at the restaurant.

I was just a new guy who moved to the big city from a small town; you could have called me a little fish in a big pond. It was almost impossible to not do something crazy or stupid in the big capital, even for a country folk guy like me. I was prepared for whatever came my way, however, I wasn’t expecting to drink the cum from another outside my apartment door.

It’s the beginning of July and I have 3 months of all the time in the world but no money to actually do stuff. I still need to save up a lot of money for university, it’s stressing me out. Why can’t I be like all of my other friends at the moment? They’re spending their Saturday nights drinking shots, dancing in night clubs, getting some handsome studs to finger their tight little cunts while pushing them against the wall.

Those living at university might like the idea of going home for the summer. They get to spend time with the family they left behind and see old friends while forgetting all about their studies. For me it is very different. Going home means spending time with my dad and his new wife, Jen, which is something that I really am not looking forward to.