Ollie was Callista’s hot, mixed-race girlfriend from high-school (only eighteen months before, but hey). Ollie had big black-chicks’ thighs, glorious shelf of an R. Crumb/Serena Williams spectacular ass, and a big miraculous rack. She wore glasses and earbuds, and always seemed quiet, nerdy, and smart.
After Cal left, Ollie stopped to visit a couple times, and I usually puffed with her. One time she opened my trousers and muckled right onto me, quite dazzlingly, with her perfect fat black-girl lips. I had to quiz her about her plans while she was functionally muzzled by my quickly fattening joystick, but it turns out she wanted cash and I uncharacteristically didn’t have any, and I had to stop her just as she had freed her miraculous tits, to propose some other slippery fucking plan and I never got to finish our project, with sweet Ollie’s lips, and she ended up getting grimy and unreliable quickly.
She disappeared from my life just about the time Callista was indicted in the Bronx. Rumors circulated that Ollie was seventeen when she was at my house, but I’ve confirmed that’s a fabrication, made up by people who have an interest in spreading bad information—haterz who just gonna hate. Ollie is, I believe, in the county jail detoxing now. I wish her the very best.
Bitchez 