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Chapter 30 by Jaegarblk Jaegarblk

How about Sunday?

More of the same..

Sunday – 11:00

Sunday passes in a haze.

You wake up groggy and with a splitting headache. You glance over at your alarm clock.

11:00.

“Shit” you mutter to yourself “morning nearly gone”.

Then you get a sharp dose of ‘The Fear’. You tiredly remind yourself it’s just the hangover paranoia. Then with a jolt you wake up. There is good reason to be afraid. A psycho bitch is trying to kill you and she has about 3 billion dick wielding, if unwitting, potential accomplices. The situation is too much for you and a sharp ache echoes through your skull. You collapse back into bed and doze off. Your rest is fitful though, knowing Monday is just around the corner.

Ideally you should call Mandy this evening to call a truce, but that is hours away.

Despite the headache and dry throat your cunt starts tingling.

“Fuck. Why am I always so horny the morning after a drinking session?…” then again you know from experience that an orgasm is very effective pain relief.

“Cheap to” you absentmindedly think as you reach for the vibrator and flick the switch….

The rest of the morning and early afternoon is spent in a bucolic haze accompanied by the pleasant buzz of your most loyal friend. You pause to drink a pint of water and get some rice cakes, followed by a strong black coffee. You do your best to avoid your room mates and other dormitory companions.

By 16:00 you aren’t completely self-satisfied sexually but your cunt is aching from the numerous orgasmic contractions it has had through the day so you decide to show some restraint.

You really should ring Mandy…

You decide to have a shower first and then a nap to get into better mental shape.

You awake again and glance over at the clock. 20:30! “Fuck where has the day gone?!” you think to yourself. Your pussy has a satisfied numbness to it now but you start touching yourself just in case you can rub one more out before having to deal with Mandy.

By 21:00 you are completely blitzed and haven’t even started to think about how to approach Mandy. “Shit”.

Then you remember you have a presentation to give tomorrow morning for the Shipping Law side-module you are taking. The work is done but it could do with one last rehearsal “Shit, shit!”.

You procrastinate for the next couple of hours between how to deal with the murderous bimbo and how best to explain the significance of the ‘Jones Act’.

By 23:00 you haven’t done much of either but are too tired to continue….

Monday – 10:30

The Shipping Law presentation you had at 09:00 wasn’t a disaster. You had done the prep work at least. But the presentation was uninspired to say the least and you stumbled through your notes watching a sea of bored student eyes. You were shaky, tired and paranoid about what Mandy was plotting. You recognised a few of Mandy’s sorority sister’s and could swear they were mockingly whispering to each other. The professor taking the class was unimpressed but gave you the necessary credits.

It is now 10:30 and you are sitting in the same diner you went to after the aborted attempt to cream pie Mandy’s.

You sigh and with a feeling of apprehension realise you need to contact her.

Do you call her or text her?

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