Putting on the apron automatically on top of those hateful things I tookover with the spaghetti Bolognese feeling depressed and broken, my lifewas ove..., I had driven her to this, I had driven her away, I hated himfor it, I hated myself and in my lowest depression I felt terriblyterribly sorry for myself.I made the dinner, trying my best to create something that she would likeso that it would be lovely for her, then I called her in a soft timidvoice"it's ready love."I thought, expected her to. But he's got a massivedick and it tastes like salted-caramel.He worships the ground I walk on.In return, I worship his swollen member in my ritual of blowjobadoration.Young twentysomething girls swoon after him. He's got that Bieber thinggoing on. But he choses me. He wants me.I'm not stupid enough to kid myself that it is because I am morebeautiful, sexy or prettier than any of his available options. But heknows that I give fucking-amazing-head. He knows I put on a show. He alsoloves to suck. More

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