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Tell Me It's Real(53)



What?!?! Vince, knock it off!

U seem like the type. I want to see if u wrote about me

I don’t have a diary

Dear Diary: Vince is sooooo awesome!

I DON’T HAVE A DIARY.

Dear Diary: I think about Vince when I use the black dildo on my butthole

I do NOT!

Really? Why not? I’m using it and thinking of u right now

Shut up. You are not

Want a pic?

I am not having text sex with you while I am at work!!!

So u’d have it with me when ur NOT at work? Score!

Are you really using the dildo?

No. Wheels and I are reading ur diary

I DON’T HAVE A DIARY!!!!!

Dear Diary: I hope Vince asks me out on a date. He’s so DREAMY

You already did. I said no. And dreamy? REALLY????

Dear Diary: Vince asked me out on a date and I said yes!!!

Oh, you are so fucking clever

U’ll see. U just wait.





7) Vince Prefers the “Wear You Down” Method Of Seduction



That night, I pulled into his apartment complex. “Here you are,” I said.

“Here I am,” he replied. He made no move to get out of my car.

“You sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be fine. All alone. By myself.”

“That’s a shame.”

“So.”

“This is where you open the door and get out of my car.”

“Let’s go do something tomorrow night. It’s Friday.”

“I know what day it is.”

“Just as friends.”

I arched an eyebrow at him. “Just as friends?”

He smiled and those dimples were out in full force. “Just as friends.”

I wasn’t fooled. “You’re totally thinking in your head that it’s a date, aren’t you?”

He nodded, not even looking remotely guilty. As a matter of fact, his smile widened.

“Vince….”

“One date, Paul. One date. If you hate it, I’ll never ask you out ever again.”

“Ever?”

“Ever.” He paused, considering. “Or until next Tuesday, whichever comes first.”

“You think you’re so cute, don’t you?”

“Do you think I’m cute?”

“Fuck off,” I grumbled.

“So?”

I sighed. “Fine. Tomorrow.”

Vince beamed at me and my heart skipped a couple of beats.

“But I’m not going to have fun,” I warned him, already feeling nervous about it.

He rolled his eyes. “Sure you will. And then I’ll get to ask you out again for a second date. And then on the date after that, you’ll show me what you do with those sex toys.” He grinned an evil grin at me.

“Get out of my car,” I said, absolutely mortified.

“See you tomorrow for our date,” he said, leaning forward and brushing his lips across mine before I could stop him. And then he was gone.

Five minutes later as I drove home, I received my billionth text of the day.

Miss u already. SEX FACE >_<

And I smiled because it’s hard to be mad at someone who misses you when you’re apart.





Chapter 9


First Date Jitters: The Only Thing I’ll Be Blowing Is Chunks





“WHY are you nervous?” Sandy asked. “You’ve already made out with him at work and at home, seen him almost naked, slept in the same bed, and spent an entire day with him in your lap. What could you possibly be nervous about?”

“I don’t know!” I wailed, tearing through my closet trying to find that one outfit that would say, Hi, my name is Paul. I’m confident, sexy, and I am not sweating gross buckets under my armpits and at the back of my knees. So far, I was without any luck as every piece of clothing I put on either made me look like an obese rhinoceros or a Vietnamese hooker. Sandy said he couldn’t quite see the Vietnamese hooker, but I assured him that I looked like my name was Pham Dao Lin and I worked at a brothel called the Lotus Flower where I offered hand jobs to men with rubber glove fetishes.

“Well,” he said, frowning at a pair of chaps that came from my wannabe-cowboy-BDSM days, “I would give you a Xanax, but chances are you’d pass out and drown in the soup appetizer. I don’t know if Vince would think that’s attractive. Or maybe he’s got some really weird kink and would think you’re really hot with minestrone dripping off your face.”

“Oh God,” I moaned. “What if he does have weird kinks? What if he wants to put things up my pee-hole while he makes me dress up as Sailor Moon?”

Sandy stared at me. “What the fuck have you been watching?”

“I accidentally googled the word kink,” I told him, finding a pair of Crocs in the back of my closet. I didn’t know where those came from because I was pretty sure I wasn’t a lesbian who owned a bookstore in Ohio. “I thought I could find some slightly sexy things to do just in case… you know.” I couldn’t look at him.