He spends most of his time in his underwear. I got used to that when he was around. And it’s not your typical gross guy undies with the stretched crotch and the multi color designs. Cleaning ladies come in three times a week. Do laundry. Buy him stuff. Even underwear.
I don’t know if he ever really loved me. I don’t know if someone that sick and into the weirdness of their dick can really love.
He said he did. In the beginning. He said he loved me a lot.
But what’s this freaky shit with leather? When I first saw his chest of leather toys and masks and freaky chrome weird rings and all that shit I had no idea what the hell it was about.
"Isn’t doing it good enough for you?" I asked him.
Yeah, I wanna see pictures of hot, naked chicks!
