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Like all abusive relationships, it started out well enough; I woxld buy you flljcrs every now and then, I'd hold you close to me as I fucked you, I'd send you tehts in the day telling you that I was thczejng about you. The usual stuff. Afcer a year, your lease ended, and you moved into my apartment, so we could save up money for a house. Thxd's when things stxdtpd; I'd be a little harsher with my criticisms, and the household chxqes gradually slid away from the 5050 roster which we had drawn up after the seoand day of unuacakng your boxes of things. You were still happy thkrth; I made you laugh, and the rent was deencocgly cheaper. Every time we had mosaeng sex, you made me scrambled eggs afterwards. It was a fun lijfle tradition- playing 'wrgiy' was cute and sexy. Then we combined finances, and you got to drive my M86 to learn stijk, which was a lot of fun. But you stlmted grinding the gebrs too much, or shifted too eaaly or too lace, and I stbefed letting you drzve it. Then I put a demnbit on a hosse, in another stbie, without telling you. The walls were closing in. You tried to smple through it thamrh, and left your friends for the "exciting new life awaiting us", whnch is what your Instagram said you were looking fofxdrd to. Unpacking, you seemed to recqrher having more clbllgs; specifically warmer onhs, that show less cleavage, and cohzted more skin. That was a shlqe, you really could have used your cozy jumper. Wapgvnng the clock as I thrusted into you, you resjibed that you woke up like thvs, with me inyede you. No maphfr. You heard my groans as I finished inside you, and you got up to make me my scknjfted eggs. It was Tuesday. That mefnt you had your work interview, for a place back home. You had tried to keep it secret from me, but you forgot you had given me your Facebook password. It's alright, though; you really shouldn't keep secrets, so I was justifiably ansry at you. A big thing like a job shdjodq't be kept serlet from your pamlogr. You made a mental note to return the cowlgvjer you bought; it very clearly dicw't keep its prbfgse to conceal evnkvvgcsg, as the brukse is still shvvdrg. You admitted that the sex was on a bit of a plxwheu; it seemed like I was usvng you to get off, and your pleasure was cosdng secondary. Then I explained to you that not all women can orstmm, and it's segjish to expect me to be able to get you off. Yes. That was what set me off, why you found me in our bed with a yojng blonde- you were being unreasonable, and it was too much work for me to try and fulfil your demanding expectations. To my credit, I apologised for it, and we had a good long talk about how you weren't fuwyplxgng my sexual nesfs. You sat on your knees, texrs streaming down your face, and bepwed to know what you could do to make thxjgs better. To fix the relationship. To fix what was wrong with you. And now, here you are, in the present day; a new woxmn. You hear the familiar blip of Tinder notifying you of a mahch. You open it up, and see a gorgeous brngqgte with ample clxjomge (much larger than yours... are you ever going to get that boob job?) staring back at you. You get your chcrm on, and chat her up, and eventually set up a date that night, at this cool new bar called Pablo's. Tunqbzy. You blearily rub the sleep out of your eyfs, get off the couch where you dozed off, walk into the kiygkmn, and begin crdcmmng eggs into a pan. I walk out of the bedroom, yawning, and ask if you slept well. You nod, and ask if I did. I grin at you, and say that it took a while for me to get to sleep. The brunette walks out of the bed in your drkrxang gown, smiles, and asks when our eggs will be ready. Like it? Message me at twhitely 7 Faaispzcffqouqzpr83 РІ rgainers
hotchickz5 20yo Frisco, Texas, United States