BigJimsWornOutTires
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And I don't know if those are trolls or emotional faggots, perhaps overweight hideous, looking lesbians, ugh. But I am here to testify!
Back in Ohio, I was working in the pastry industry. You know, making cakes, muffins, donuts, pastry shit. The dough was my life at that time.
One day, I'm disseminating the dough on the wooden board. I see a red Honda pull up. Three girls exit while the driver yacking on her phone. While kneading the dough, I hear the doorbell jingle shortly after and watch those girls stroll inside. They were in their late teens/the early twenties. I didn't pay much attention and turned my focus back to the dough. I reminded myself, "Gotta get this bitch ready for Freddy!" Freddy was the decorator. He was currently taking a shit in the women's bathroom. I hear a catcall whistle. I glimpsed back at them, and neither one was looking at me. Their eyes were on the glass display. I looked around to ensure no one else was in the rat-infested shop. It was only us ... besides Freddy destroying the women's toilet. That's a nasty motherfucker. Ngl. He doesn't wash his hands and constantly complains about getting shit on his fingers. Anyway, I continue pressing my knuckles deep into the dough. Catcall again! Ugh. I look back. All three are staring at me — the two blondes smile. The youngest one, that short brunette hair, wasn't. But her eyes were! They approach the counter, and I meet them at the cash register. I say, "Thanks, ladies. But I'm in my forties, and I know my good-looking days are long gone."
"You look great for your age!" The blue eye blonde said.
The brunette joined, "You don't look like most middle-aged guys."
The short blonde said, "You're cute."
"Ugh. Thanks again. But neither of you would date me ... so it doesn't matter."
"Oh, wow!" Blue eyes expressed in satire fashion. "I didn't know mind reading was your second job." I was expecting giggling to follow. But what followed was an eerie silence. They were serious. But the speaker seemed angered by my humbleness.
The short blonde inserted, "I couldn't publically date you because of school, and my friends, especially dad, would oppose. But a secret boyfriend ..." She looks to her friends for approval.
Blue eyes then replied, "Sugar daddy." They then giggled. But her eyes were wider, scanning my musculature. Then she says, loudly under her breath, "Sugar me sweet."
"You all are too kind. I do appreciate the flatter, though."
"What the hell is wrong with your confidence? You're fine! You look better than guys my age." Bluey said.
"Prove it. Go on a date with me tonight. I get off in a few hours."
She was speechless. The brunette nudged her side with an elbow. Whispered under her breath, Say yes!
"And to protect your image, I'll cook. So the date will be private at my place."
She remained speechless, thinking during a long pause. Then spontaneously, she said, "Okay."
"Okay then." I was expecting an excuse. Or perhaps, a declaration of current engagement. But when she said that, I felt I was out of my league. What the heck am I thinking? Dating a twenty-something-year-old? Brutal.
"But I'm not sleeping with you." Then with raised brows, she guaranteed.
"Deal." I agreed.
"Not because of your age."
"Oh ... kay," I expressed confusion.
"Because I'm not easy," she turned to brownie and continued, "I have much respect for myself." Brownie looked away, rolling her eyes.
"I'm not easy either." She tilted her head and seductively smiled.
Later that night, during the date, she's reverse cowgirling my bareback dick as I watched her fluids slither down it.
Back in Ohio, I was working in the pastry industry. You know, making cakes, muffins, donuts, pastry shit. The dough was my life at that time.
One day, I'm disseminating the dough on the wooden board. I see a red Honda pull up. Three girls exit while the driver yacking on her phone. While kneading the dough, I hear the doorbell jingle shortly after and watch those girls stroll inside. They were in their late teens/the early twenties. I didn't pay much attention and turned my focus back to the dough. I reminded myself, "Gotta get this bitch ready for Freddy!" Freddy was the decorator. He was currently taking a shit in the women's bathroom. I hear a catcall whistle. I glimpsed back at them, and neither one was looking at me. Their eyes were on the glass display. I looked around to ensure no one else was in the rat-infested shop. It was only us ... besides Freddy destroying the women's toilet. That's a nasty motherfucker. Ngl. He doesn't wash his hands and constantly complains about getting shit on his fingers. Anyway, I continue pressing my knuckles deep into the dough. Catcall again! Ugh. I look back. All three are staring at me — the two blondes smile. The youngest one, that short brunette hair, wasn't. But her eyes were! They approach the counter, and I meet them at the cash register. I say, "Thanks, ladies. But I'm in my forties, and I know my good-looking days are long gone."
"You look great for your age!" The blue eye blonde said.
The brunette joined, "You don't look like most middle-aged guys."
The short blonde said, "You're cute."
"Ugh. Thanks again. But neither of you would date me ... so it doesn't matter."
"Oh, wow!" Blue eyes expressed in satire fashion. "I didn't know mind reading was your second job." I was expecting giggling to follow. But what followed was an eerie silence. They were serious. But the speaker seemed angered by my humbleness.
The short blonde inserted, "I couldn't publically date you because of school, and my friends, especially dad, would oppose. But a secret boyfriend ..." She looks to her friends for approval.
Blue eyes then replied, "Sugar daddy." They then giggled. But her eyes were wider, scanning my musculature. Then she says, loudly under her breath, "Sugar me sweet."
"You all are too kind. I do appreciate the flatter, though."
"What the hell is wrong with your confidence? You're fine! You look better than guys my age." Bluey said.
"Prove it. Go on a date with me tonight. I get off in a few hours."
She was speechless. The brunette nudged her side with an elbow. Whispered under her breath, Say yes!
"And to protect your image, I'll cook. So the date will be private at my place."
She remained speechless, thinking during a long pause. Then spontaneously, she said, "Okay."
"Okay then." I was expecting an excuse. Or perhaps, a declaration of current engagement. But when she said that, I felt I was out of my league. What the heck am I thinking? Dating a twenty-something-year-old? Brutal.
"But I'm not sleeping with you." Then with raised brows, she guaranteed.
"Deal." I agreed.
"Not because of your age."
"Oh ... kay," I expressed confusion.
"Because I'm not easy," she turned to brownie and continued, "I have much respect for myself." Brownie looked away, rolling her eyes.
"I'm not easy either." She tilted her head and seductively smiled.
Later that night, during the date, she's reverse cowgirling my bareback dick as I watched her fluids slither down it.
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