She was a 19 yo blue eyed blonde haired goddess who I peeked at the gym for over two years...

She was a 19 yo blue eyed blonde haired goddess who I peeked at the gym for over two years. I had over heard that she was a student at the prestigious university down the street. Besides that, she was just another beautiful girl, untouchable. I took my son to the park and saw her there, that’s when we sparked a conversation that scared me. She was stunning, but how could I know she knew the names of Hesiod, Heraclitus, Hegel, and Heidegger? I knew from right there that I had an entry way into her friendship, and the thought of adding her private profile on my social media list of friends titilated me. She was interested in the very things I so privately enjoyed, and we gave permission to each other in the realm of our deepest secrets. The conversations began enthusiastically between the both of us and, if it had stayed that way, a life long friendship would have emerged. We talked about cinema, she knew who Victor Sjostrom was, we talked about politics, she was studying to become civil rights attorney and had just returned from a youth meeting at the UN, her family came from New Zealand and for the most part she had a sheltered life, we shared our writings, and not only was she really talented, but she liked my smutty drivel. In my heart I tried sabotaging everything. There was no way we could be together and just the thought that she, of all people, “liked me” was enough, I mean that I had already won but it was time to end it before real feelings began. So I confessed. She knew I had a son, but I told her I was with my fiancé for 8 years and that I would never leave her. I told her that I used to be a drug addict, I was in jail, I dropped out of school, I was homeless and if not for my fiancé, would have died of an overdose in a homeless shelter with not a penny to my name, probably clutching a copy of the Tao Te Ching. I told her I had no money, not even a car. I was a big loser who just liked to have sex, exercise, read books and avoid sleep. She never left. She shared pictures of her room, the size of a small apartment with its own sink and balcony and the walls adorned with her paintings. No matter how much ugly truth I threw at her, the constant fact that I was well read, made me the one person she felt like she needed in her life. So I brought the fucking axe! Do you like sex? Have you been cummed on? Have you been raped? Do you like anal? She answered them with grace and patience. I told her I didn’t want her seeing anyone else. She responded swiftly with, I don’t have a tinder, I don’t trust men. I told her to buy a ring that said, FROM DADDY, she said You can buy it for me. At this point I’m losing my mind.

(1/2)

One night she asked me to come and study with her so I agreed. She picked me up in her moms Mercedes and drove me to a hill I used to visit as a kid. And there I held her in my arms. I had passed the game, forgotten wins and losses, and entered the realm of, what the ancient poets had called, the living dream.

“I love you” i said. She began to cry.

After that night I never heard from her. She refused to contact me. I walked around her university looking for her. I sent her blocks of messages and she disappeared from social media. I thought she had blocked me but when I logged in from another account I saw that she had really deleted everything. It wasn’t that she hated me but much worse, she was in love with me. Our souls were entwined for all time, I wrote my name on her childhood, adulthood and old age. She would never forget me and she would never forgive me.

(2/2)

fiance is a man, fiancee is a woman
OP is a fag confirmed

...

I aint reading all that shit nigga.

REEAAD IIIT

I don't mean to be rude, but the story is honestly bad. It's stiff and lifeless and even as a sarcastic shitpost it doesn't work at all.

Just guessing this is yours, and not someone else's (if it is, I don't think english is their first language and you shouldn't be making fun of them)

Ohhhh what a critique
> it’s bad

I'm lookin for a dime that's top of the line cute face little waist with a big behind.

this would be more believable if the girl was older than 19, but i guess she has to be a child to fit your sex fantasy you cunt.

>She was a 19 yo blue eyed blonde
I came already pal

Stopped reading at “goddess”

Y r u mad

Thanks for your contribution!

>Faggot OP unloads a massive shitpost on the board and then selectively replies to the shitresponses that tickle his fancy, like a toddler selecting toys from his shelf.

Every time.
Like autists to the computer screen.

...

i hate the pretence of depth that's all, oooh a hot girl who looks up to me and will indulge my ego even though shes clearly much better than me in every way, how romantic, fuck off.

>fuck off

To be fair this story is kind of shit. If you expanded the "daddy's cummies" part you could post it on ASSTR and get lots of fans though probably.

>I had passed the game
>passed the game
>the game

goddamnit OP

I'm Veeky Forums's foremost prose stylist as well as the nicest guy in the world, and I'm going to fix your story for you as best I can while staying true to the original. Hold up.

She was nineteen, blue-eyed blonde, Aryan goddess—I'd been eyeballing her at the gym for over two years at the time. The word was that she was enrolled at a prestigious university just down the street from Chad's LiftZone. Other than that, she was a beautiful mystery, and wholly intangible to me.

One day at the park with my fiancée's son I saw her, sitting, notebook closed in her hands and a pencil behind her ear staring out into realms I would never traverse. I mustered up some bogus pretense to chop it up with her, asking her if she was a poet and all that and that I used to write myself. I was stunned, within moments she was blustering on about the ontological fork that modernism created within the tradition of poetry; she appealed to Dante, Hegel, Eliot, Fichte, and I was captured by the fantasy that she, too, might be an elite poster on Veeky Forums's literature board. My desire overcame me, and I requested the young lady to add me on Discord.

Often in the chatrooms we would spill our darkest secrets to one another, admitting that we had never read Kant, Dostoevsky, Pound, Proust; we were amazed to discover that both of our favorite directors was Ingmar Bergman, and we each conceded that the Return of Twin Peaks was better than the original. We shared our politics: clean energy, price controls on college tuition, tax cuts for corporations that spent X% of their budget on diversity training and LGBT*Q-affirmative Twitter advertisements. Despite the fact that she was only a first-year undergraduate she was already preparing for her illustrious career as a civil rights litigator—as a participant in Model United Nations she was well on her way.

Having come from underdeveloped New Zealand, it was a shock that she was so capable of assimilating to life in one of America's larger cities. Despite her sheltered childhood, she had soon shed the accoutrements of youth and was already sporting fishnets at the club, where she went most nights after courses. Thursdays were set aside for me, and in the intimacy of the Sbarro's Pizzeria we poured over one another's tracts; she was brilliant, and with her discernment weeded out from my marvelous corpus of work the thirty or so percent which was not quite ready to be published and required further revision. I knew this intimate relationship couldn't last, I was engaged—and so I had to sabotage it.

I told her everything, about my fiancée and how much she loved me and cared for me when I was a homeless dropout, about her son Jamaal and how he relied on me, my record and how it influenced my career prospects, my barbiturate addiction, how I had read Infinite Jest but fell off the wagon–everything.

I told her I had no money, not even a car. I was a big loser who just liked to have sex, exercise, read books and avoid sleep. She could not help herself, and would not leave my side. She shared pictures of her room with me, related to me the dimensions of her apartment, told me all about the balcony and the leaking faucet and the raw cement walls adorned by her paintings. No matter the ugly truth of reality, the beauty of my chiseled, swoleleft body left her crooning after me whenever I had to leave her.

Later on Discord, without the inhibitions that inhere in face-to-face contact to dissuade me, I told her about my fetishes: choking, golden showers, rope play, pegging, even auto-facialization. She told me to buy her a ring. I went on Amazon and ordered a golden plastic cock ring, size small, and shipped it to her house.

Yep I would say that's an accurate depitction of OP.

At least OP's was readable

>poured over one another's tracts
What was poured? Coffee?

Peek is an intransitive verb, your first sentence is ungrammatical.

>civil rights attorney

Shes probably getting BLACKED

>civil rights means black people

R u stupid

that's why you're in Veeky Forums, amirite? so's you don't have to read shit.

She was a bleach blond dog of a woman with a Jewish nose and the Marxist ideology to accompany it. I spied her from across the room getting groped by her black personal trainer. the scene was so immeasurably erotic that I creamed my constricting short shorts then and there and had to make my way to the locker room inconspicuously without leaving a trail of my sap on the gym floor. Once home I masturbated to the memory a total of 3 times that day. My wife's son, who she had while married to me (he is black but I decided to stay with her because I love her), and I spotted her at the park and followed her back to her cat where I asked her if she liked to be raped. She told me she was a civil rights lawyer and tried to pepper spray me but I used the niglet as a human shield and pounced on her.. [1/2]

SUCH ABRUPT ENDING
what the fuck man

Car*

where's the tl;dr ?

tl;dr
I met this chick when I was engaged and also retarded enough to have a kid while engaged. She dropped hints that she wanted to fuck me so I told her about my life; she was cool with it, and then I fucked the shit out of this dumb fucking whore, lol, shit was so cash. Then she left because she realized that she can't go to university if she is too busy whoring. The end.

Thanks user, I enjoyed the story

>Victor Sjostrom
Literally pukin'. (((Swedes))).

>but how could I know she knew the names of Hesiod, Heraclitus, Hegel, and Heidegger?
But did she know the name of our Lord, Jesus Christ? Asking real questions here, OP.

Jesus is coming.

But did he pull out?

this is some fucking awful fanfiction

OP my man you are a charlatan and a fraud get your shit together

got em

Goddess is the weakest, cookie-cutter "compliment" invertebrates subject women to.

Someone give me a better descriptor for a muscular woman. Hard mode : not "Amazonian"

"She looked like just the type of woman who could grab a cinderblock and smash it over my head, killing me instantly."
or
"I imagined what it would be like to eat her out, and could immediately envision her legs locking around my head and crushing it like a watermelon in a hydraulic press."

tldr. is op oxford user by any chance?

A hellion, termagant muscle rolled beneath her supple skin with languorous ease .

like this but with boobs

>veins crisscrossed her misshapen steroid tits like spaghetti junctions across the metro atlanta area

hot

>she can't go to university if she is too busy whoring
prove her wrong