Girl's Trip: She's Been Stretched Out And Ready To Dump You
It was only supposed to be a girl’s trip. Everything was perfect before then, and you find yourself replaying the memories over in your mind like a favorite movie—the type that molded you into the person you are today and you could watch every day until the day you died. Utter and complete worship is the bare minimum, and tunnel vision became the norm—you couldn’t see anyone but her even if you wanted to. You even branded her name across the back of your neck, a declaration of your love for her visible to the whole world, especially when you groveled on your hands and knees for her. She thought it was cute, she thought it was adorable, she said it was her favorite thing about you. You were pure entertainment for her and you used to make her laugh all the time. Used to. Now she doesn’t even talk to you. Barely even looks at you when she does. She’s your whole world, and now she barely acknowledges your existence.
It was only supposed to be a girl’s trip. The version of her you knew and loved got lost and never came back. She’s unsatisfied with you. She snaps at you when she finally chooses to remember you exist. She never lets you fuck her anymore, and the sad part? You used to have the best sex ever. She was on an equal playing field as you, matching you in experience and always down to explore new ways to make a mess. Your favorite part about it all was the disgusting, depraved things she’d whisper in your ear, her words nearly always the tipping point for your ejaculation.
It was only supposed to be a girl’s trip. When you dropped her off, she even cried. When you picked her up from the airport, bouquet in hand, you could tell she was different now. Had there been a reason why her location had been switched off and she stopped calling and texting you after the first night? You almost called the police but to this she said you were annoying and excessive in a tone she’d never used with you before, like you were an underling, a defect, a blemish ruining her vacation. She put her phone on do not disturb once and the old her was never heard from again.
It was only supposed to be a girl’s trip. The night of her return you were dying to have sex with her. You had been so good, abstaining from stroking yourself to the thought of her in a tiny little bikini, relaxing poolside in the villa you paid for so she could flounce around without a care in the world. You wanted to be good and save your load just for her, but when she came back she wanted nothing to do with you. She didn’t even try to fake it—no kissing, no touching, no laughing at your stupid jokes. You tried to fumble with her in the bed and she barked at you to just stick it in already, why were you wasting her time? Upon penetration there wasn’t even a single moan. No facial reaction. No whimpering, no mmm-ing, no begging for you not to stop. You pumped away diligently, assuming she just needed time to warm up. You tried to remember all the things she said to you before but you were too busy overcompensating in her to remember. You muster up the courage to look at her face only to see her roll her eyes, even grabbing her phone at one point to laugh at a text from a name you had never heard of before. Were you not enough for her anymore? Just as you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t true, she confirmed your fears, finally opening her mouth to say one thing to you: put your fingers in too, I want to actually feel something now.
It was only supposed to be a girl’s trip. Now four of your fingers were being crammed in her alongside your dick that now wasn’t enough. Maybe it had never been enough. Maybe she had always wanted more—and you, pathetic as you are, would always jump to give her whatever she wants. You’d die by your own hand before you’d disobey her. Resistance never crossed your mind when she wanted more, and you gave it to her even though it meant she’d never be able to feel your dick inside her ever again. Her moans as you eased it in were now only a fading memory. But you couldn’t be mad at her—no matter what happened on the trip, no matter what, or who, it was that made her crave something bigger than you could ever give her.
