“You’re dead, Roy. You don’t owe any more on your car.” “I should have killed you. No, I shouldn’t have married you. You’re damn sexy in...a slightly twisted way, but you’re a deeply conflicted, passive-aggressive, necrophilac bitch. You murder your own family and friends, and you spend too much of my dough. My psychiatrist says you’re symbolically emasculating me by spending my money.” “Which would mean that you equate your money with your prick? Par for the course, Roy.” “Where did you get that. So when we went back into Jimmy's house, he told me to just crash on the couch. Something I’d do on a regular basis.We made a promise to Mrs. T, that we’d never drive if we had been drinking. We would call someone if we needed a ride. Which we had done, on more than one occasion. I think she took it as a sign of us being responsible.I woke up around five in the morning. My mouth was so dry, it hurt. I staggered to the kitchen to get a glass of water. As I was standing there in front of the. They watched me bemusedly as I tried to find a comfortable position. Nick filled my plate and handed it to me.“How do you feel?” he asked.“Fucked,” I replied as I took the first bite, and it made them smile. I was terribly hungry, but the food with its taste and smell made the taste and feel of cum in my mouth disappear. As it did, my mind slowly started to take over again and, without wanting it, I felt sorry about it.“So what’s all this about?” I asked. I needed answers, needed to know what. As if she could read my thoughts. "And what would you do for me?" She askedI thought for a moment. "Fuck you in the pool?" I said. "Whenever you like" Tonight?" She said quicklyI looked at her, "If you piss right here, I will fuck you in the pool tonight."She smiled, her pussy pushing slightly harder against my hand, sweat dripping down her stomach. Then she giggled. "I don't think I could" she said, "it would feel weird."I shrugged, as if I wasn't bothered either way.She looked at me, "Well.
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