relationshits - don't get too comfortable (ego)

i have to admit that having a boyfriend is affecting my work negatively

sex on tap. at home. i bagged a hot guy so why do i still need to try so hard? once you've reeled them in let your body relax and keep them locked into a relationship with you with a steadily increasing amount of emotional abuse and insults to slowly convince them that they are now too old and unattractive to do any better. yes?

it happens to us all. we get in a relationship. we get lazy, fat, and our appearance slips. why? because we're happy and content (well, hopefully. you should be or get out). 

so i had a job today. 

just i knocked on the door i realised i had forgotten to brush my teeth. i frantically searched my pockets for gum (remember, by gum) but the second my hands were in my pocket he was already opening the door so i had to withdraw my hands

note: never answer the door with your hands in your pockets with new clients. it looks like you're hiding something

we get down to it pretty quick (mostly because i'm not really interested) and my lazy dominate side kicks in. i push him to his knees while i sit in the armchair. i grab him by the back of the neck and pull his face into my crotch. he tries to suck me but i tease him a little and slap my hard cock against his forehead. it's such a lovely sound. he's loving it and i'm liking the rough mediterranean stubble on my balls. i peel my foreskin back and…

oh, sweet baby cheeses! did you forget to shower too?

around the rim of the meaty helmet was cock cheese. bright white freshly crumbed fetta sprinkled around the purple red head of my engorged cock. not much. just a 4 or 5 tiny tiny rolls of boccaccini. i think fast. hopefully there is none under my cock that he can see, so i fire a mouthful of spit. it showers my cock and his face. his eyes snap shut and he moans in the degradation. while he's not looking, in one swift move my hands swipes the head of my wet cock, wiping away all traces of dick cheese. you can't hide the smell, but maybe it's not so bad and he said nothing about my breath anyway

crisis averted

i wipe my hand on the sofa and fuck his mouth. then he slobbers around my balls and slowly down to my arse. i'm liking the rough stubble i am distracted for a moment

…you didn't shower this morning, remember. that means you didn't wash your body. that means you didn't wash your arse. chickpeas were in that damn moroccan food you ate last night and you have been farting all day like a trooper. that rank spicy shit is gonna stick to the hairs on your arse like a naked ballerina doing the splits on a hardwood floor… too late now!… he's in there...

....he's still in there…

face buried in the hairy blonde crack of my arse. 

…oh hang on… and he's loving it… 

false alarm. all is good

happy people don't give a fuck. they got little to worry about. so let this be a lesson to myself - stop being so fucking lazy and remember to scrub up. just because you are as happy as a pig in shit doesn't excuse you from smelling like one

so all those beautiful people out there that spend hours on their appearance, at the gym, plucking, shaving and trimming, washing their jiggly bits, wearing clean clothes, brushing their hair and teeth (and all that totally unnecessary stuff) are deeply unhappy and insecure? 

for the most part - yes. 

ever noticed how those homos at the gym with the perfect bodies look painfully uptight and precious? well, they are. that's what keeps them constantly monitoring their appearance. from looking fabulous on the street, to shaking their taught booty up on the pedestal in the club, to that guy perfectly poised in that porn shoot with that body you've always wanted for yourself. i know a lot of them, and trust me, generally they are no happier than you. not only are they not happier but they are also painfully boring. i've been stuck in conversations with them. the beautiful people are really fucking boring. 

don't envy them. you are not missing out on a thing