Face Sitting And Slags


After a weekend of food poisoning, I was brought out of my sultry mood by the unexpected call from my Mr Dyer, swoon. That’s all your going to hear about that (smile) Then it was back to stranger than fiction.

Ring Ring

“Hello, who am I speaking too?”

” hello Sofia, it’s Terry, have you got a huge bottom darling?”

Oh god here we go

“Of course Terry, it’s enormous”

“That’s wonderfu sophia, will you squash it down on my face until I suffocate?”

I can think of better things to be doing with my time, let alone my little size 12 bum

” Ok Terry, I’m going to sit on your face until you stop squirming, until I sqaush the life out of you”

” oh yes Sofia”

What the hell was that about, although come to think about it, there are a few guys I would like to squash the life out of. This next one is quite possibly one of them

Ring Ring

“Hello, who am I speaking too?”

” you must be a real slag to be doing this”

” if I’m a real slag , your ringing me, so what does that make you?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do YOU mean?”

” I said, you must be a real slag”

” I heard what you said, I’m just not sure what constitutes a real slag”

” what?  you do of course”

” I see, so I could be a hooker and not be a real slag then?”

” no, I didn’t say that ” then explain what you mean?”

” but, you know what I mean.”

” actually, I dont, but I’m more than happy to listen to your analagy ”

” what the fuck does that mean?”

” look, I’m busy, now do you want to come or not?”

” yes”

” bloody well get on with it then

” Twat!!

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