Subsonic
02-04-2025, 04:21 AM
(Just an idea that hit me, thought others might like it. Also like in my previous writings, this is a slightly different world where girls are born trans, natural so to speak.)
A Love Withered
Their fifth year together barely resembled the first three. Now in their late twenties, the distance between Kayla and Marco left their bond weakening. It was always a volatile relationship, frequent with cycles of intense arguing, makeup sex and peace. Through it all, passion persisted and they adored each other. Marco's anxiety, alcoholism and insecurities however, slowly worsened over time. Conflict over moving eroded things more. Kayla's entertainment consulting company was soon expanding from Maryland into Miami. She was presented with the opportunity of relocating to the city as part of the key startup team if interested. The idea excited her, while Marco's anxiety made the move unappealing to him. Discussions about it ended always in disagreement, amplifying tension. Their fights worsened, especially after his drinking led to the loss of a client in his finance work.
A turning point was reached during a doctor visit about his ongoing constipation and rectal pain. Having the smaller stature and being the submissive, years of being stretched by Kayla's rough topping during sex were taking a toll. “You have significant mucosal lacerations.” the young female doctor informed. She further explained his constipation was also causing stool backup that required laxatives. They were instructed to take a break from sex for a few months at least, else his condition would worsen. Sitting beside Marco, Kayla was visibly disappointed by the news and shared her honest thoughts, that he was exaggerating to withhold intimacy.
“I just have a hard time believing it's bad enough to abstain from intercourse. I need sex. We're already down to once a week. Where does this leave me?”
“Kay, I can barely sit sometimes after sex. You're almost nine inches and thick. You think that doesn't hurt? Uhh...sorry doctor. It's not your job to listen to this. Thanks, I'll follow your advice.”
The drive home was silent, far from the the energetic and lively interactions they used to have, even over basic things. “You think she was hot?” asked Marco. He pouted about the doctors eyes subtly growing wider when he mentioned Kayla's size. She ignored him and focused on driving. In the weeks that followed, conversations were more often lacking in depth. Kisses and cuddles in bed lessened. Marco noticed Kayla seemed to stop initiating sexual contact altogether. Even before his diagnosis, he made sure to orally pleasure her on a near daily basis, despite her not always reciprocating. From surprising her morning erections in bed, to tending to her sweaty shaft upon her return from the gym, he kept blowjobs consistent. For a time, it seemed to work, but less so as of late. He upped his efforts, wearing lingerie and makeup she usually liked him to. At 5'5” and thin framed with soft features, he naturally looked more like a short haired woman, sometimes appearing to be a teen girl to passing eyes. Kayla was a head-turner, standing 5'11” with a stout curvy build complimenting her long hair, Latin features, and gray eyes. The circumcised and pale-shafted, redheaded serpent between her legs was a bonus sometimes quite obvious through clothing, but which only a lucky few had seen or interacted with. Marco was always insecure, of losing her to competition. He was afraid now more than ever, knowing he couldn't meet her sexual needs, and that her options were endless.
Efforts to get Kayla in the mood had little effect anymore. His concerns grew when she began spending time with friends more than being home with him. Suspicions of infidelity wouldn't relent. Still, Marco was afraid to confront her. Soon, she stopped buying his favorite Hershey Kisses. She always remembered them. His questioning of her new forgetfulness was trivialized by her telling him he could buy them himself. Two months after the doctor visit, he stopped Kayla at the door on her way to work one morning. The smell of whiskey was obvious. “What?” she asked, standing emotionless in her tight business slacks, jacket and heels, bag strap slung over her shoulder. He grabbed her by the hand and walked her into the bedroom. She looked in confusion. Marco took his night gown off and got on the bed, hands and knees, presenting his body for Kayla. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I'm ready. I'm all better, you can fuck me, just like old times. Take me.”
“Marco, when did you buy more and how many have you had today? You're drunk. I don't have time for this. I'm gonna be late.”
Kayla headed out, leaving him in the most embarrassing vulnerability he'd ever felt with her. It was the first time since his teen years, he sat on a bed staring at the wall in anxiety for half an hour. Still, he was dictated by his need to believe things were okay. Two days later on Friday morning he tried again, grabbing Kayla as she stood brushing her hair in the bathroom, before putting her shoes on. “Marco, this again?” she said. Instead of offering his body, he got on his knees and undid her belt. She seemed indifferent but didn't resist, letting him take her penis and scrotum out of her tight pants. His soft lips and tongue soon had her erect. He gave her a fine blowjob, varying his head position, speed, tongue moves and caressing her balls with the other hand. Within four minutes, Kayla's ejaculation made a mess of Marco's face and part of the shower glass behind him. Though her slacks were tight, maneuvering back into such attire was second nature. Down her left thigh it went, in it's return to flaccid. She finished brushing her hair without saying anything or looking at him. She stepped away to put her shoes on, then grabbed her office bag.
“Don't cook for me tonight, I'm joining colleagues for a business dinner.”
Kayla was out the door following her parting words. Marco sat there on his knees, with her thick creamy strings all over his face. Again her cold exit left him feeling numb and degraded. She couldn't bother with a simple “thanks.” The sound of her Audi faded from the driveway. The house felt like a different breed of quiet than it ever did in the past. He wondered if his inability to give her intercourse killed her love, if his worries of one day losing her were finally materializing. He now felt certain she was seeing someone else. He loved Kayla more than himself. In his mind, she gave his life meaning, loved him when his family cast him out for being what he was. He knew tethering his self worth to her wasn't healthy, but never found the strength not to. After cleaning his face, tears blurred his vision briefly.
The mental exhaustion left Marco needing a nap during the day. He awakened at eight o'clock in the evening. Kayla was still out. His phone had emails from colleagues and clients about the budgeting project he was responsible for. Even with his job fully remote, stress over the relationship was getting in the way of deadlines. It was Friday, a convenient excuse to take a walk for a bottle of Jack Daniels from the local store. It was five more hours before Kayla returned at 1 o'clock in the morning. She walked in, kicking her shoes off on her way to the kitchen. As she stood filling a glass with orange juice, Marco appeared from the dark. She turned around and knew the drunken look in his eyes. “Where the ...fuck have you been?” he asked. Kayla ignored him and downed the juice.
He approached and stood staring at her, then reached for her belt. Kayla moved his hand away, saying she wasn't in the mood for his bullshit, and that he smelled like alcohol. “Hiding something?” he asked. She began walking to the bedroom. Marco rushed at her pants again. “What the hell?!” she shouted as he managed to unzip her fly enough to get his hand in and touch her moist shaft. A stiff push from her sent him stumbling out of balance. They stood focused on each other as if a real physical confrontation was imminent. He put his hand to his nose.
“Kayla. Why do I smell....pussy on your dick? You're cheating and didn't even bother washing the bitch off? Who is she?! Who?!”
“I'm not having this fucking discussion while you're drunk, Marco. I'm going to bed. You take the couch in the living room.”
“We're having this fucking discussion right fucking now!!!” He screamed, then rushed at her in his rage, with wild swings. A few harmless slaps made contact. Kayla being quite larger and no stranger to working out, nuked his aggression with an open hand to his face, followed by backing him up against the bedroom wall. The impact shook figurines on the shelf nearby. They shouted at each other in rage, before Kayla shoved him to the floor. He stood and charged at her, easily countered and overpowered again. She turned him around, restraining his arms to his side, forcing him against the wall once more. He yelled obscenities. “Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!!” she shouted as he cried.
“How could you fuck someone else? I love you! It's supposed to be meeee! I'm the one you fuck! I'm the one you fuck! Not that bitch! Me, me, me!!!”
Kayla covered Marco's mouth, still pinning his face to the wall. “You wanna get fucked? You wanna get fucked?!” she asked in anger. She whipped him around and grabbed his hair, pulling his head downward. “Suck this dick. Get me hard.” she said in a quiet stern tone. He knelt to his knees and took Kayla in his mouth. He sucked with wild vigor in a mess of emotions to please her, ignoring that he could taste a woman's vagina on her shaft.
“Yeah that's it, suck that pussy off my dick. How's it taste? She tastes fucking good don't she? Hurry up. Come on, get my dick hard.”
For over three minutes, Marco obliged and got her fully erect, gagging several times as her grip kept his head from moving. She removed her suit jacket and shirt, leaving her bra and slacks the only clothing still on. Grabbing his underarms, she pulled him to his feet and turned him back around, shoving him against the wall again. She was aggressive in removing his tank top and pulling his leggings down. She'd put him back into his submissive role. His hysterical whining was no more, now quiet and docile, letting her take him. Kayla's erection, covered in saliva, was weaponized as if weeks passed since it last invaded someone. Still angered at Marco's latest emotional outburst, she was rough inserting herself, with no patience or regard for him. Reliably, it caused him to clench in sporadic pains. He wasn't used to her size anymore, and felt she was reaching unsafe depths. She pushed deeper, satisfied at the sight of seeing only her trimmed bush against his petite ass. She could tell Marco was struggling, and played mind games with him, uttering a comment she knew would sting.
“She doesn't struggle with this dick like you are.”
He quieted his expressions, pushing himself to man up and prove to the woman he loved that he could still accommodate her like old times. Kayla wasted no time working up to speed, immediately driving her hips back and forth hard, as if testing his grit. Their bodies slapped loudly. Each of her thrusts jerked him forward almost in ragdoll fashion as she abandoned restraint. She pressed her chest into his back in full-body contact, and wrapped her arms around him in a strong grip. The intensity was primal, more than it had been in over a year. Though Kayla's ravaging wasn't without a measure of pain, Marco toughed it out, satisfied to be giving her what she needed. With her face beside his, he felt the warmth of her deep breaths and subtle moans. Being joined at the cheek and hearing her say anything her uncontrolled desire drove her to, was part of what he loved most about being her bottom.
Two minutes in, Marco received a surprise when he began to feel prostate stimulation. It was the first time in several months, and proof that letting his body heal from her allowed feeling to restore. He moaned in what sounded similar to a cough. Kayla knew the sound well. She kept drilling him hard, while licking the side of his face. The point of no return loomed as tingles in her pelvic area arose. Her moans drew longer, with hissing breaths after each one. She released her hold of Marco's upper body, holding his hips in place while pounding still, preparing to finish. About a dozen more thrusts and her climax hit hard, making her express a near-screaming sigh.
Her entire body twitched as she pumped her seed deep into Marco. The feeling of her strong contractions filling him triggered his own moment. As he stroked himself through his release, Kayla again joined their upper bodies, with her arms around him. She screamed out and drove her hips fully into him, thrusting no more. Ten seconds passed and still she felt her dick pulsing out of control as her ejaculation continued. Her voice rumbled in a deeper octave than Marco recalled hearing before. He was surprised again when Kayla hooked her arms under his and lifted him off his feet a few inches, with her dick still impaled. She held him against the wall as the final waves of her orgasm subsided, before putting him down. They remained in position a moment catching their breath. Kayla pulled out, sweaty, and walked to the bathroom to rinse herself in the sink. Returning to the bedroom, she removed her pants and bra, with her dick still hard. Marco stood leaning against the wall on his left shoulder, as she spoke sobering words.
“Well you wanted fucked, you got fucked. As I said, the bedroom is mine tonight. Take the couch in the living room. Close the door on your way out.”
With her erection still not having gone down, Kayla tossed a pillow on the floor beside Marco, turned the lights off and got into bed. Confused beyond words at what just happened, he stepped out and closed the door, leaving his beloved to sleep. It was hours before his emotions calmed enough to fall asleep. The next morning, he arose at eleven o'clock. The hangover was head-splitting as he noticed a sore throat and dull ache in his rectum. In his drunkenness the previous night, he wasn't mindful of Kayla's massive load leaking out and soiling his leggings and the couch. Checking the bedroom, she was gone. After a shower, he noticed the bedroom closet was left open, and emptied of her belongings. The sight made his heart jump with panic. He reached for his phone. There was a message from Kayla that shattered Marco's world.
“Marco, I'm ending this relationship. I can't do this with you anymore. I can't fix your problems. Your drinking, lack of goals and ambition, insecurities, always thinking I was cheating. Well you were finally right. It just took 5 years, and only because you wouldn't change, then cut the sex off for months before even seeing a doctor. I tried to be more accommodating to your “pain” but your rejection caused me unimaginable emotional pain. You made me feel ashamed of my penis...I can't help that it's so big, and I shouldn't have to. The woman I fell for reminded me what it's like to have my body be appreciated and admired. I have the confidence back that you took from me. I feel alive again. I need someone considerate of my needs and feelings. You used to be that person, then you changed...and that's your fault.
Anyway I decided to take the job in Miami, was gonna tell you last night before you lost your shit again. I'm leaving next week to start a new life, with the happiness and joy I deserve. Spoke to the landlord, paid the rest of my portion of rent, and told him take me off the lease when it expires. I left my key on the kitchen table. That covers everything pretty much. We had a good run, for most of it at least. I remember the good times, so many memories. It's just time for us both to move on. Don't try contacting me, I've already blocked you everywhere. Better for me that way. Sorry if you're sore today, I drilled you pretty hard last night. Admit it though, it was fuckin good, just like old times. You know it was...
Marco...You looked so cute sleeping on the couch this morning. You're always cute when you're asleep... Well anyway, goodbye. I hope you find peace and happiness.”
A Love Withered
Their fifth year together barely resembled the first three. Now in their late twenties, the distance between Kayla and Marco left their bond weakening. It was always a volatile relationship, frequent with cycles of intense arguing, makeup sex and peace. Through it all, passion persisted and they adored each other. Marco's anxiety, alcoholism and insecurities however, slowly worsened over time. Conflict over moving eroded things more. Kayla's entertainment consulting company was soon expanding from Maryland into Miami. She was presented with the opportunity of relocating to the city as part of the key startup team if interested. The idea excited her, while Marco's anxiety made the move unappealing to him. Discussions about it ended always in disagreement, amplifying tension. Their fights worsened, especially after his drinking led to the loss of a client in his finance work.
A turning point was reached during a doctor visit about his ongoing constipation and rectal pain. Having the smaller stature and being the submissive, years of being stretched by Kayla's rough topping during sex were taking a toll. “You have significant mucosal lacerations.” the young female doctor informed. She further explained his constipation was also causing stool backup that required laxatives. They were instructed to take a break from sex for a few months at least, else his condition would worsen. Sitting beside Marco, Kayla was visibly disappointed by the news and shared her honest thoughts, that he was exaggerating to withhold intimacy.
“I just have a hard time believing it's bad enough to abstain from intercourse. I need sex. We're already down to once a week. Where does this leave me?”
“Kay, I can barely sit sometimes after sex. You're almost nine inches and thick. You think that doesn't hurt? Uhh...sorry doctor. It's not your job to listen to this. Thanks, I'll follow your advice.”
The drive home was silent, far from the the energetic and lively interactions they used to have, even over basic things. “You think she was hot?” asked Marco. He pouted about the doctors eyes subtly growing wider when he mentioned Kayla's size. She ignored him and focused on driving. In the weeks that followed, conversations were more often lacking in depth. Kisses and cuddles in bed lessened. Marco noticed Kayla seemed to stop initiating sexual contact altogether. Even before his diagnosis, he made sure to orally pleasure her on a near daily basis, despite her not always reciprocating. From surprising her morning erections in bed, to tending to her sweaty shaft upon her return from the gym, he kept blowjobs consistent. For a time, it seemed to work, but less so as of late. He upped his efforts, wearing lingerie and makeup she usually liked him to. At 5'5” and thin framed with soft features, he naturally looked more like a short haired woman, sometimes appearing to be a teen girl to passing eyes. Kayla was a head-turner, standing 5'11” with a stout curvy build complimenting her long hair, Latin features, and gray eyes. The circumcised and pale-shafted, redheaded serpent between her legs was a bonus sometimes quite obvious through clothing, but which only a lucky few had seen or interacted with. Marco was always insecure, of losing her to competition. He was afraid now more than ever, knowing he couldn't meet her sexual needs, and that her options were endless.
Efforts to get Kayla in the mood had little effect anymore. His concerns grew when she began spending time with friends more than being home with him. Suspicions of infidelity wouldn't relent. Still, Marco was afraid to confront her. Soon, she stopped buying his favorite Hershey Kisses. She always remembered them. His questioning of her new forgetfulness was trivialized by her telling him he could buy them himself. Two months after the doctor visit, he stopped Kayla at the door on her way to work one morning. The smell of whiskey was obvious. “What?” she asked, standing emotionless in her tight business slacks, jacket and heels, bag strap slung over her shoulder. He grabbed her by the hand and walked her into the bedroom. She looked in confusion. Marco took his night gown off and got on the bed, hands and knees, presenting his body for Kayla. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I'm ready. I'm all better, you can fuck me, just like old times. Take me.”
“Marco, when did you buy more and how many have you had today? You're drunk. I don't have time for this. I'm gonna be late.”
Kayla headed out, leaving him in the most embarrassing vulnerability he'd ever felt with her. It was the first time since his teen years, he sat on a bed staring at the wall in anxiety for half an hour. Still, he was dictated by his need to believe things were okay. Two days later on Friday morning he tried again, grabbing Kayla as she stood brushing her hair in the bathroom, before putting her shoes on. “Marco, this again?” she said. Instead of offering his body, he got on his knees and undid her belt. She seemed indifferent but didn't resist, letting him take her penis and scrotum out of her tight pants. His soft lips and tongue soon had her erect. He gave her a fine blowjob, varying his head position, speed, tongue moves and caressing her balls with the other hand. Within four minutes, Kayla's ejaculation made a mess of Marco's face and part of the shower glass behind him. Though her slacks were tight, maneuvering back into such attire was second nature. Down her left thigh it went, in it's return to flaccid. She finished brushing her hair without saying anything or looking at him. She stepped away to put her shoes on, then grabbed her office bag.
“Don't cook for me tonight, I'm joining colleagues for a business dinner.”
Kayla was out the door following her parting words. Marco sat there on his knees, with her thick creamy strings all over his face. Again her cold exit left him feeling numb and degraded. She couldn't bother with a simple “thanks.” The sound of her Audi faded from the driveway. The house felt like a different breed of quiet than it ever did in the past. He wondered if his inability to give her intercourse killed her love, if his worries of one day losing her were finally materializing. He now felt certain she was seeing someone else. He loved Kayla more than himself. In his mind, she gave his life meaning, loved him when his family cast him out for being what he was. He knew tethering his self worth to her wasn't healthy, but never found the strength not to. After cleaning his face, tears blurred his vision briefly.
The mental exhaustion left Marco needing a nap during the day. He awakened at eight o'clock in the evening. Kayla was still out. His phone had emails from colleagues and clients about the budgeting project he was responsible for. Even with his job fully remote, stress over the relationship was getting in the way of deadlines. It was Friday, a convenient excuse to take a walk for a bottle of Jack Daniels from the local store. It was five more hours before Kayla returned at 1 o'clock in the morning. She walked in, kicking her shoes off on her way to the kitchen. As she stood filling a glass with orange juice, Marco appeared from the dark. She turned around and knew the drunken look in his eyes. “Where the ...fuck have you been?” he asked. Kayla ignored him and downed the juice.
He approached and stood staring at her, then reached for her belt. Kayla moved his hand away, saying she wasn't in the mood for his bullshit, and that he smelled like alcohol. “Hiding something?” he asked. She began walking to the bedroom. Marco rushed at her pants again. “What the hell?!” she shouted as he managed to unzip her fly enough to get his hand in and touch her moist shaft. A stiff push from her sent him stumbling out of balance. They stood focused on each other as if a real physical confrontation was imminent. He put his hand to his nose.
“Kayla. Why do I smell....pussy on your dick? You're cheating and didn't even bother washing the bitch off? Who is she?! Who?!”
“I'm not having this fucking discussion while you're drunk, Marco. I'm going to bed. You take the couch in the living room.”
“We're having this fucking discussion right fucking now!!!” He screamed, then rushed at her in his rage, with wild swings. A few harmless slaps made contact. Kayla being quite larger and no stranger to working out, nuked his aggression with an open hand to his face, followed by backing him up against the bedroom wall. The impact shook figurines on the shelf nearby. They shouted at each other in rage, before Kayla shoved him to the floor. He stood and charged at her, easily countered and overpowered again. She turned him around, restraining his arms to his side, forcing him against the wall once more. He yelled obscenities. “Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!!” she shouted as he cried.
“How could you fuck someone else? I love you! It's supposed to be meeee! I'm the one you fuck! I'm the one you fuck! Not that bitch! Me, me, me!!!”
Kayla covered Marco's mouth, still pinning his face to the wall. “You wanna get fucked? You wanna get fucked?!” she asked in anger. She whipped him around and grabbed his hair, pulling his head downward. “Suck this dick. Get me hard.” she said in a quiet stern tone. He knelt to his knees and took Kayla in his mouth. He sucked with wild vigor in a mess of emotions to please her, ignoring that he could taste a woman's vagina on her shaft.
“Yeah that's it, suck that pussy off my dick. How's it taste? She tastes fucking good don't she? Hurry up. Come on, get my dick hard.”
For over three minutes, Marco obliged and got her fully erect, gagging several times as her grip kept his head from moving. She removed her suit jacket and shirt, leaving her bra and slacks the only clothing still on. Grabbing his underarms, she pulled him to his feet and turned him back around, shoving him against the wall again. She was aggressive in removing his tank top and pulling his leggings down. She'd put him back into his submissive role. His hysterical whining was no more, now quiet and docile, letting her take him. Kayla's erection, covered in saliva, was weaponized as if weeks passed since it last invaded someone. Still angered at Marco's latest emotional outburst, she was rough inserting herself, with no patience or regard for him. Reliably, it caused him to clench in sporadic pains. He wasn't used to her size anymore, and felt she was reaching unsafe depths. She pushed deeper, satisfied at the sight of seeing only her trimmed bush against his petite ass. She could tell Marco was struggling, and played mind games with him, uttering a comment she knew would sting.
“She doesn't struggle with this dick like you are.”
He quieted his expressions, pushing himself to man up and prove to the woman he loved that he could still accommodate her like old times. Kayla wasted no time working up to speed, immediately driving her hips back and forth hard, as if testing his grit. Their bodies slapped loudly. Each of her thrusts jerked him forward almost in ragdoll fashion as she abandoned restraint. She pressed her chest into his back in full-body contact, and wrapped her arms around him in a strong grip. The intensity was primal, more than it had been in over a year. Though Kayla's ravaging wasn't without a measure of pain, Marco toughed it out, satisfied to be giving her what she needed. With her face beside his, he felt the warmth of her deep breaths and subtle moans. Being joined at the cheek and hearing her say anything her uncontrolled desire drove her to, was part of what he loved most about being her bottom.
Two minutes in, Marco received a surprise when he began to feel prostate stimulation. It was the first time in several months, and proof that letting his body heal from her allowed feeling to restore. He moaned in what sounded similar to a cough. Kayla knew the sound well. She kept drilling him hard, while licking the side of his face. The point of no return loomed as tingles in her pelvic area arose. Her moans drew longer, with hissing breaths after each one. She released her hold of Marco's upper body, holding his hips in place while pounding still, preparing to finish. About a dozen more thrusts and her climax hit hard, making her express a near-screaming sigh.
Her entire body twitched as she pumped her seed deep into Marco. The feeling of her strong contractions filling him triggered his own moment. As he stroked himself through his release, Kayla again joined their upper bodies, with her arms around him. She screamed out and drove her hips fully into him, thrusting no more. Ten seconds passed and still she felt her dick pulsing out of control as her ejaculation continued. Her voice rumbled in a deeper octave than Marco recalled hearing before. He was surprised again when Kayla hooked her arms under his and lifted him off his feet a few inches, with her dick still impaled. She held him against the wall as the final waves of her orgasm subsided, before putting him down. They remained in position a moment catching their breath. Kayla pulled out, sweaty, and walked to the bathroom to rinse herself in the sink. Returning to the bedroom, she removed her pants and bra, with her dick still hard. Marco stood leaning against the wall on his left shoulder, as she spoke sobering words.
“Well you wanted fucked, you got fucked. As I said, the bedroom is mine tonight. Take the couch in the living room. Close the door on your way out.”
With her erection still not having gone down, Kayla tossed a pillow on the floor beside Marco, turned the lights off and got into bed. Confused beyond words at what just happened, he stepped out and closed the door, leaving his beloved to sleep. It was hours before his emotions calmed enough to fall asleep. The next morning, he arose at eleven o'clock. The hangover was head-splitting as he noticed a sore throat and dull ache in his rectum. In his drunkenness the previous night, he wasn't mindful of Kayla's massive load leaking out and soiling his leggings and the couch. Checking the bedroom, she was gone. After a shower, he noticed the bedroom closet was left open, and emptied of her belongings. The sight made his heart jump with panic. He reached for his phone. There was a message from Kayla that shattered Marco's world.
“Marco, I'm ending this relationship. I can't do this with you anymore. I can't fix your problems. Your drinking, lack of goals and ambition, insecurities, always thinking I was cheating. Well you were finally right. It just took 5 years, and only because you wouldn't change, then cut the sex off for months before even seeing a doctor. I tried to be more accommodating to your “pain” but your rejection caused me unimaginable emotional pain. You made me feel ashamed of my penis...I can't help that it's so big, and I shouldn't have to. The woman I fell for reminded me what it's like to have my body be appreciated and admired. I have the confidence back that you took from me. I feel alive again. I need someone considerate of my needs and feelings. You used to be that person, then you changed...and that's your fault.
Anyway I decided to take the job in Miami, was gonna tell you last night before you lost your shit again. I'm leaving next week to start a new life, with the happiness and joy I deserve. Spoke to the landlord, paid the rest of my portion of rent, and told him take me off the lease when it expires. I left my key on the kitchen table. That covers everything pretty much. We had a good run, for most of it at least. I remember the good times, so many memories. It's just time for us both to move on. Don't try contacting me, I've already blocked you everywhere. Better for me that way. Sorry if you're sore today, I drilled you pretty hard last night. Admit it though, it was fuckin good, just like old times. You know it was...
Marco...You looked so cute sleeping on the couch this morning. You're always cute when you're asleep... Well anyway, goodbye. I hope you find peace and happiness.”