You slide your dress up and decide to play with yourself. You really wanna have an orgasm. Your mind is on other things though and this is making you even more glad that your boyfriend is about to be killed. All your wanna do is come but the thought of the silly argument is still in your head.

You decide to look at porn. The first clip you see is a good start. You really enjoy watching the blonde girl trying to grip the massive cock that is in front of her. You think that she looks really common and that you would love to be in the place of the Polish-looking girl in the threesome so that you could get fucked by the big cock but also terrorise the blonde girl’s pussy. This clip isn’t very long though, and you are interested to see what else happens in this scenario so you click on the second clip.

You still wish you were in the place of the Polish-looking girl, having your pussy licked by the little blonde chav while she gets pummelled from behing by the big dick. You are getting really wet now watching this, but there is still a bad feeling somewhere between your stomach and your chest.

To try and get over this strange feeling, you watch clip three, which is definitely the best. You still wish you were in the place of the Polish girl and can’t believe the gape that the massive cock leaves when it pulls out of her. Then he moves onto the little chav slut-bag and you get so horny while watching this that you begin to come. The problem is that the clip is very short and your orgasm is shit because you have to concentrate on pressing play every few seconds.

Regardless, you have achieved the orgasm that you wanted and are relatively happy. In fact you roll over and get comfy in your bed, disgusted by what is now on the screen, for nobody likes the sight of porn after orgasm!

You begin to think about your boyfriend who is on the verge of death, and you are feeling a little guilty about it because he wasn’t so bad after all, he just was a bit mental.

You look at a picture of him on your wall. You remember the moment that it was taken and how sad you were for him to be leaving you in Siena. You think about how fit he looks in the shot and how he was excited at the table to tell you about this brilliant idea he was working on which would “revolutionise” the way we experience literature. You think that although he talks a lot of bullshit, he probably will, one day, fulfil his vision and become rich and famous for it.

You look at another picture on your wall of the two of you together. This time you see how happy you both can be and think that in the future, when he is rich and famous from his amazing idea to revolutionise literature, you will both move to the countryside in Tuscany and keep piglets and then one day let your children ride on the pigs when they are fully grown and properly chubby and strong. This thought fills you with love and happiness.

But then you remember!

There is a contract out on his head. This wasn’t just another bullshit argument; you actually took steps to finish it once and for all!!! Fuck!!! You go back online and tell the gypsy to stop. He can keep your money, of course – he is a gypsy, but he must not kill your boyfriend under any circumstances.

Luckily, there is an emergency telephone number on his website (so the gypsy has a mobile phone as well!).