We are like the worst perverse and wicked kind of a couple to ever have being. Maybe I am correct—or maybe I am wrong really! Why us specifically? “What is that dog doing there on our bed, Dicking?” I ask and demand of him. Heck! Shit him for all of this! Don’t you like it, or does it sicken and turn your stomach up?”
His lips touch and brush their way past my mouth. She is very much gorgeous and eye-dazzling in her buck naked birthday suit, and yet she tells me time and again that she would like to dress and attire herself in mine instead. Is she his bitch? She looks surprised and terrified at seeing me. My father had it, and so did my grandfather, and grand-grandfather carry it too. I think I see the stars. It precisely and definitely has not. Steadily and wonderfully slow and brilliant too! Now I have Rhys here left alone to deal with.
