The baby is so close. Maybe I should take a walk, to take my mind off ... It’s such a nice day, but I don’t have the energy. I don’t have the energy for anything. I wish it were a year ago. Or a year from now.

I fell asleep. When I woke up it was a year ago. Everything was so easy then. Best I can remember.

This morning I went for a walk. It’s acorn season and the sidewalks were littered with the acorns. I couldn’t help it, they made me think of the cap of Logan’s cock. I remembered one time a couple of years ago when went for a walk in the Arboretum. It was acorn season then too. Squirrels everywhere gathering the fallen nuts. I was getting pelted.

“Ouch, that hurt,” I yelped after one hit me on the head.

“Should have worn your hard-hat,” Logan told me.

“I’ll hard-hat you,” I told him. “And these things are impossible to walk on. Why didn’t you tell me not to wear heels?”

“Because when you walk in heels your ass looks so hot,” he said, and he put his hand there and I yelped again. “That does it, take off your shoes,” I demanded.

“How come?” he asked.

“If I have to suffer these acorns in heels, the least you can do is suffer them barefoot.”

He didn’t take off his shoes, the rat. He kept his hand on my ass. I grabbed his hand by the thumb and squeezed. “Pretend your thumb is your cock and my fist is my pussy,” I told him. “Pretend instead of walking we’re wanking.”

We strolled and I squeezed his thumb and I said, “I’m going to make you come. I’m going to make you come in your pants. How come you didn’t tell me to wear a skirt? If I’d worn a skirt you could have taken me behind one of these big oaks and flipped up my skirt and pushed my panties aside and buried your big cock nuts deep in my hot juicy fuck hole.”

When I say words like fuck hole it really gets Logan. He steered me off the path and yanked my pants down and pressed me up against a big oak and fucked me hard and fast from behind, acorns raining down like rain.

Remembering this made me so hot. I was so wet. I almost came in my pants just from the memory. I hurried home and texted Logan. “Come home for lunch. I need a quickie so bad.”

He came home. The quickie wasn’t so quick but it was so good. Logan didn’t have time to shower before heading back to campus. He’s going to have to teach his one o’clock with a cunt-soaked squirrel.