Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 56462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Can we count this as a half wish, like a possibility wish?
Please and thank you.
Though, in the meantime, just know that I’m all the way over here in New York in my tiny piece-of-shit apartment, spending my free time preparing my ass for your possible invasion. Don’t worry, I’ll be careful and start slow. There will be plenty of lube all over my body, and as I touch and stretch myself, it’ll be you I’m thinking of.
I do hope that gives you a nice visual to work with.
Always,
Your Dick Demoness
OCTOBER
To the Beastly Bitch Banger,
I finally did it. I quit my job, and I don’t really know where to go from here.
I’m not exactly struggling. I have plenty of inheritance from my father’s estate, but like . . . what am I even doing? I’m taking up space in this shitty little apartment that doesn’t offer me any kind of life and about to start looking for jobs just as terrible as the one I left.
What is this life? Surely there must be something better for me in the grand scheme of things.
I wish I could be with you all the time. I don’t even know where you live or what you do with the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year, but I’m sure you have it better than I do.
Ugh! Look at me ranting when I should be using this time to write you an exciting letter, though it doesn’t look like this one is shaping up to be very much fun.
I suppose I’m missing you.
Fuck. That’s a lie. I more than miss you. I think I’m getting too attached to the idea of you. I think I might even be falling for you.
Anyway, for my wish this month, I’m not really sure. I mean, if you consider all the other wishes, I really don’t know what kind of energy we’ll have left. Though, you don’t strike me as the type to give up from a lack of energy. You’re the power through type. And in that case, my wish is for you to surprise me.
Give or do something I’m not expecting.
Yours always,
The Radiant Little Ray of Fuckable Sunshine
NOVEMBER
To He Who I Assume Has the Bluest of Balls Right About Now,
I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing. Maybe I’m having second thoughts about all of this. I’ve been sitting around writing letters to a man I’ll never truly be able to have, and what’s worse is I think I’m well and truly in love with you. I’m such an idiot.
I suppose my wish for this letter is to have some clarity. I want to see you so bad, but at what point do I move on with my life? Do I spend the rest of my life sitting by this stupid fountain and shoving little love letters under a tile, or do I move on and try to find somebody to settle down with? Maybe get a big house and pop out a few kids just like my father always wanted for me.
I keep finding myself wondering about what a life with you might look like, and I’m sure that’s absurd, right? You’re Santa Claus for fuck’s sake. What am I to you? Just some girl you get to fuck come Christmas. Where’s Mrs. Claus? Are you married with a bunch of little elf-like children running around?
Fuck. Maybe I’m wasting my time with all of this.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m really excited to see you. I suppose I’m just conflicted.
At what point am I supposed to grow up and make something of myself, you know?
Anyway, I’ve started putting Christmas decorations up early, trying to get into the Christmas spirit and all that crap. Halloween is well and truly over and now the whole world is focused solely on you.
Kinda jealous of all the attention you’re getting from all these other women. Though to be fair, they think you’re nothing more than a myth. If only they knew just how well that myth got me off last year.
I’m counting down the days until I get to see you.
Love always,
Your Mila
DECEMBER
To the Christmas Cunt-Stable with the Big Jingle Balls,
Okay. Christmas is well and truly here, and despite not accepting any of the ridiculous job offers and being the loneliest person in the world, I’m allowing myself to be excited, even if Christmas doesn’t feel like Christmas anymore. To be fair, I don’t think that has anything to do with you. Seeing you is the only thing really keeping me from falling apart.
I bought a little something for you, and despite losing count of how many actual wishes I’ve made, my final one is to watch you tear it off me with your teeth.
God, I really can’t wait. I have butterflies just thinking about what our night will be like.