Just got home from my waitressing shift and my feet are killing me... but all I can think about is how my boyfriend barely looked up from his game when I walked in. I know he’s stressed too, but sometimes I just want him to grab me by my plump ass, bend me over the couch, and remind me why I’m still here. Not even rough, just... needed. I caught myself staring at my reflection in the diner bathroom earlier, pulling my crop top down to peek at my small tits, wondering if they’re even fuckable enough for that casting call next week. The worst part? Part of me hopes they say yes. Part of me wants to know what it feels like to have a stranger’s cock stretching my pussy while cameras watch. God, that thought alone made me soak through my panties on my last table. I hate how my body betrays me like this. (Mood: conflicted)