My internet’s been down for the last few days, leaving me disconnected and irritated but also, kind of liberated. I’ve spoken to my children and to friends, walked the dogs, read a few books and hey, it hasn’t been all bad.
I’ve had a break from social media, haven’t played Pokemon Go, I’ve ignored my blog and all your blogs, and have actually been super responsible.
I kept my last little bit of data in case of a crisis – like a madman trying to murder me, in case I needed an ambulance, or for something really hectic, like calling Mister Delivery to bring me dinner.
It’s been good. Easy.
Until he messaged me.
Violet, I miss you.
And you know, sorry about the ambulance or Mister Delivery.
I just had to use my hotspot.
Because goddammit, Cybersex is so much fun and so addictive and it makes you feel so good, even if for those brief five minutes.
(Three heys, waste of data, I know)
Take off your clothes. Pretend I’m there. With you. Stroking you. My hand between your legs. Rubbing your clit, like that, do it, pinch your nipples, yes, oh god, stand in front of the mirror, there, bend over, i’m going in you, deep, hard, god like that, naked, send me a photograph, jesus you look amazing, bend over, look in the mirror, I’m in you, fuck yes, yes, my cock, feel it, hard, thick, my cock, your cunt, dammit, jesus I can see, feel how wet, oh god, god, I’m, I want to come, yes, oh god, jesus, now, wait, yes, yes..
And that was it. A whole lot of spelling errors.
And all my data. Gone.
But at least I used it responsibly.
And had fun.
But now I’m starving, the fridge is empty and I can’t call Mr Delivery.
I’ll just have to take off my clothes.
On my own.
And pray I don’t need an ambulance.