Hi!!! May I ask for my weekly dose of Conrad and Fliss? Thank you and have a great day!!
People could joke and crack wise about it until they went blue in the face, but the fact of the matter was pretty obvious: Conrad’s life was fucking hard.
Take this whole situation for example - there he was, just trying to enjoy his tropical deep-sea vacay, and Julia was still ordering him around, nagging ‘Conrad this’ and ‘Conrad that’ and ‘Go get the rest of the beer, Connie’ and ‘Seriously would you just do it, I’m sooo thirsty,’ and while he wanted nothing more than to be a good brother and quickly fetch her her hoppy beverage of choice, it was awfully difficult to do, what with Fliss’s hands knotted in his shirt and her tongue in his mouth. The charm boomerang, it seemed, hadn’t only come back around...it had whapped her fully upside the head.
Curse his raw, undeniable animal magnetism! He couldn’t go anywhere without this happening, could he?!
Ah well, he thought to himself as Fliss pulled him closer, his fingers hooking around the belt loops of her shorts all the while, JJ would survive a few more minutes without her stupid beer.
six sentence sat(or)sunday!!!
