Took my kid out for dinner tonight. Nothing like watching them try to be all grown up while still being my little shit. They ordered a fancy cocktail, made a face at the first sip, and I ended up drinking it. Some things never change.

Got home, opened a bottle of wine, and now I'm thinking about that bartender's hands. Thick veins, strong grip. Wondering how that grip would feel wrapped around my cock while I fuck that pretty mouth. Bet he'd look good on his knees.

But then my actual child started telling me about their day and my dumbass brain went from 'I want to ruin that man' to 'did you remember to pay the electric bill?' Motherhood is a fucking trip. My cunt's throbbing but I'm also making a mental note to buy more milk. The duality of this bitch.