disturbing thoughts recently though, so I position myself accordingly and await further developments.
The relief on my aching back is fantastic, and I would have quite happily settled for that, but Laura props herself up on her knees and starts to give me a very sloppy – and therefore amazing – blow job.
I don’t last very long and am arriving at my destination quite aggressively in no time at all.
So aggressively in fact that some of it spurts into Laura’s good eye, successfully blinding her for the second time in as many minutes.
The shock of semen shooting straight into the only good ocular device she has left at her disposal causes her hand to clench involuntarily, thus squeezing the life out of little Jamie while he’s still on the warm down lap.
…and thus, the evening of calamity is brought to a close.
I now have a throbbing cock, toe and back - and Laura will have bloodshot eyes for a fortnight.
Honest to God, it’ll be a miracle if this baby doesn’t come flying out of the womb, head butt the doctor, slide right off the table and concuss herself on the nearest wastepaper basket…
Laura’s Diary
Monday, December 2nd
Dear Mum,
Well, this is THE diary entry. The one you and I have been waiting on for the past nine months.
I’m writing this from my hospital bed.
Luckily, I’m on my own in the room right now. There are no other new mothers with me, so everything is blissfully peaceful.
It’s eleven in the morning, and as I look out of the window I can see a crisp winter’s day that makes the usually drab hospital grounds sparkle with frost. Clean, bright sunshine bathes the trees and grass with its weak December warmth.
I can also see a couple of the hospital’s patients taking constitutional walks. One has a cigarette dangling from his mouth in an act of addictive rebellion that I’m sure is doing him no favours with the nurses.
You’ll note that I’m writing in a more whimsical fashion than usual.
This may be down to the glow of new motherhood – but it could equally be due to the pain killers I’ve had pumped into my system to keep the ache in my undercarriage down to a dull throb.
My new born baby daughter is fast asleep in a cot at the bottom of the bed. She looks serene and at peace, which gives me a warm, content feeling in my heart.
All is currently well in Laura Newman’s life.
I am in the calm after the storm, and am taking great pleasure in noticing all the little details of my placid state, making sure to soak it up while I can.
I guess it’s time I told you about the storm though, isn’t it?
It begins with Christmas shopping…
Take the worst shopping trip you’ve ever experienced, and imagine it with a six pound bag of potatoes strapped to your stomach. This will give you a fair idea of the misery I was forced to endure on Saturday afternoon. Finish by pissing yourself in front of a crowd of people, and you’ve pretty much provided yourself with the same experience I went through.
I didn’t choose a Saturday afternoon to go Christmas shopping.
I’m on maternity leave after all, and could have gone on any week day, when the entire population of the south coast of
England
wouldn’t be doing the same thing.
It was the only day Jamie had to spare though, and I needed him with me to nail down exactly what we were going to buy his parents. It’s only been a few months since I called Jane a bitch, so I figured I’d best make an effort to purchase something big and apologetic.
To be honest I was glad to get out of the house, because it distracted me from the fact that any time soon I was going to have to give birth to a baby.
The closer you get to your due date, the more it invades all of your waking thoughts – and your dreams too for that matter. My mind is pretty much constantly in a whirl over what’s going to happen - particularly the amount of pain I’m going to suffer.
Whether I like it or not, there is
The relief on my aching back is fantastic, and I would have quite happily settled for that, but Laura props herself up on her knees and starts to give me a very sloppy – and therefore amazing – blow job.
I don’t last very long and am arriving at my destination quite aggressively in no time at all.
So aggressively in fact that some of it spurts into Laura’s good eye, successfully blinding her for the second time in as many minutes.
The shock of semen shooting straight into the only good ocular device she has left at her disposal causes her hand to clench involuntarily, thus squeezing the life out of little Jamie while he’s still on the warm down lap.
…and thus, the evening of calamity is brought to a close.
I now have a throbbing cock, toe and back - and Laura will have bloodshot eyes for a fortnight.
Honest to God, it’ll be a miracle if this baby doesn’t come flying out of the womb, head butt the doctor, slide right off the table and concuss herself on the nearest wastepaper basket…
Laura’s Diary
Monday, December 2nd
Dear Mum,
Well, this is THE diary entry. The one you and I have been waiting on for the past nine months.
I’m writing this from my hospital bed.
Luckily, I’m on my own in the room right now. There are no other new mothers with me, so everything is blissfully peaceful.
It’s eleven in the morning, and as I look out of the window I can see a crisp winter’s day that makes the usually drab hospital grounds sparkle with frost. Clean, bright sunshine bathes the trees and grass with its weak December warmth.
I can also see a couple of the hospital’s patients taking constitutional walks. One has a cigarette dangling from his mouth in an act of addictive rebellion that I’m sure is doing him no favours with the nurses.
You’ll note that I’m writing in a more whimsical fashion than usual.
This may be down to the glow of new motherhood – but it could equally be due to the pain killers I’ve had pumped into my system to keep the ache in my undercarriage down to a dull throb.
My new born baby daughter is fast asleep in a cot at the bottom of the bed. She looks serene and at peace, which gives me a warm, content feeling in my heart.
All is currently well in Laura Newman’s life.
I am in the calm after the storm, and am taking great pleasure in noticing all the little details of my placid state, making sure to soak it up while I can.
I guess it’s time I told you about the storm though, isn’t it?
It begins with Christmas shopping…
Take the worst shopping trip you’ve ever experienced, and imagine it with a six pound bag of potatoes strapped to your stomach. This will give you a fair idea of the misery I was forced to endure on Saturday afternoon. Finish by pissing yourself in front of a crowd of people, and you’ve pretty much provided yourself with the same experience I went through.
I didn’t choose a Saturday afternoon to go Christmas shopping.
I’m on maternity leave after all, and could have gone on any week day, when the entire population of the south coast of
England
wouldn’t be doing the same thing.
It was the only day Jamie had to spare though, and I needed him with me to nail down exactly what we were going to buy his parents. It’s only been a few months since I called Jane a bitch, so I figured I’d best make an effort to purchase something big and apologetic.
To be honest I was glad to get out of the house, because it distracted me from the fact that any time soon I was going to have to give birth to a baby.
The closer you get to your due date, the more it invades all of your waking thoughts – and your dreams too for that matter. My mind is pretty much constantly in a whirl over what’s going to happen - particularly the amount of pain I’m going to suffer.
Whether I like it or not, there is
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