Well, I think it’s time. I’m ready to tell you about a real disgusting love story. For those of you with weak stomachs, fair warning, this is about to be worse than anything you ever read about Donut. Plus, way less sexy.

Run, run now.

For the gals who love this shit read on. Probably, now would be a good time to go grab your tissues. You know my track history with men and this doesn’t end well either.

For the record I may state that I am aware of my status of “giant Whore” and I am quite proud. Although, I have probably slept with a good majority of the male population none of them really meant much to me. Except my select few; Donut, Redbeard and Morthos (for a moment anyway).

Above all that there is one that tamed my whore hole, without ever penetrating it. Uh, huh. My little Angel of Death, Grim.

I will tell you why.

It was Valentines Day of this year actually. I spent the day obsessing over Donut (as was expected). After 12 hours of feeling sorry for myself and hating his new girlfriend, you know, for taking the life that I had dreamed about for almost a decade. Also, for getting to go on MY ski vacation with my little Maple Bar and hanging out with MY step daughter. Oh, did I mention that bitch was now living in MY dream shack? Hmmh!

I had had about enough of this shit.

My lip was hanging off my chin in a pout further than it had after that one time that I ate my own shit over at the Lit Fart.

That’s when it happened.


“Did you really go to school with me 15 years ago?” the message read.

I blinked, twice.


It was Grim.

Now let me back up and give you a little history. Grim and I had gone to college together a decade and a half back. Although there had always been a bit of an unmentioned attraction between us, neither of us had ever brought it up to one another. He had asked me to a party my first week of school but the day came and went without either of us realizing it.

I made sure to throw that in his face right off the bat for my own amusement.

I’m great at guilt trips.

The truth was, when I had met Grim I thought he was way too old for me. I was 17 and he was just 21 but back then that seemed like a lifetime of difference. Plus he used to drink a lot and get really loud. Too bad I wasn’t able to see the future person I’d turn out to be!


Grim had grown into a hot, beefy stud muffin. I don’t even mean like Brutus, either. I mean I could put a flame to Grims ass and his ass would turn right around and burn IT.

I had sent Grim a friend request on this particular internet site a year or two back, although he had accepted me he never responded to my message until this particular night. I have no clue what prompted him to do so.

It was like magic.

Actually, our entire relationship was.

He called me that night and we chatted for several hours. After we hung up, we continued our conversation through chat.

Grim read through my Blog and watched all my shitty videos; he loved them. Or at least he pretended to. Didn’t matter to me.

We had a connection like nothing I have ever experienced before. Plus, he told me a story about fisting that was worse than anything I have ever written myself, I was impressed.

The next night, Grim invited me into a private chat group and he serenaded me with his guitar. He made me private movies of himself playing music and I countered with some personalized videos of my own.

We chatted online all night every night. He said all the right things and eventually I let my guard down. Of course I did, I’m a dumb slut.

The main problem, he lived half the country away. One night after two weeks of marathon messaging, late night connecting, Grim finally did it. He invited me to see him. We spent a day going back and forth over the different reasons why we should reconsider. It didn’t matter though, we both had the same burning desire to take our long distance infatuation and turn it into an explosive weekend.

That’s when it happened, Grim bought me an airline ticket. It was too good to be true. Really it was, because that night my grandfather died.

I had to cancel.

Grim stood by me (by telephone). Honestly, I believe he saved me that night because in those hours when I was all alone I crept into our private group and I watched him play his song over and over until the sun came up. He was with me through the worst night of my life and I will never stop loving him for that.

Through the week that followed, he continued to check in with me but his messages became fewer and further between. The next week when my life fell apart and my children and I became homeless he said he would call me soon, only he never did. I messaged him and asked him if it was too much for him but he never responded.

After a few weeks of hotel hopping I finally did it.

Drunk freak out.

That’s right, I went on the bender to end all benders and just like I have done to every man in my past I attacked him with late night phone calls and messages. He didn’t respond. Not for a week anyway. When he finally did it was a single message to tell me he had caught them, blew them off and that it was a bit immature of me to do but to be expected in my situation.

Not long ago, he gave me a congratulations on my book and then left me with one little private note to let me know he still remembered.

My heart is broken.

I told Grim all along, despite what happened between us, he already had a story. I’m still hoping that this will just be the first chapter.

Don’t fret men of the world! My whore hole is still up for action.

Just, don’t expect to get into the other space.



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