peter david strahm

He's lucky I have the stamina and physical prowess to match our sex drives.

That is no longer the case.

Sex is obviously the foundation of our relationship. We both want it. We both need it. I can take out a lot on Mark. He gets attention. So why not? With ample freetime, I don't see why it's wrong. "Only" having sex is an exaggeration in the literal sense. It's frequent. Multiple times a day, every day. But we have time for other things.

In a word, dramatic.

You don't know me.

You made it weird.

Is that what he's saying? He's full of shit.

Besides me, of course.

He cried the whole time.

So, no.

Yeah. He can't even fit his ass in his pants anymore. He needs my help to get out of bed. It's almost impossible to shower together without his mass pinning me to the wall. The bed sags. All of his shirts ride up. He gets stares in public. He breathes like a pug. He has around 4.5 chins. Hearing him walk from a floor below is like hearing the footfall of a hippopotamus. I'm afraid the floor's going to cave. Need I go on?

Yep. Going to start starving him.

I'm aware. He's going to have to deal with it.

That's closer.

He has bad taste.

Yeah.

I did for around thirty years.