In the middle of the night, it’s darkest hour, I got up in a cold sweat and a swamp of cum. Inseparable, my fear of death came with the lust. I was on a brink, on the edge of doing something to myself, when I brought my partner of ten years a squeaky nose and a palette of makeup. It felt unnatural at first, to have a hatefuck with them, to have a bonner pumped up by my own dread, but I wasn’t shy of requesting it again, and again. My phobia got my phalos going like nothing else could. I was not a man I believed I was, but I ran with it anyway.
In the middle of the night, it’s darkest hour, I got up in a cold sweat and a swamp of cum. Inseparable, my fear of death came with the lust. I was on a brink, on the edge of doing something to myself, when I brought my partner of ten years a squeaky nose and a palette of makeup. It felt unnatural at first, to have a hatefuck with them, to have a bonner pumped up by my own dread, but I wasn’t shy of requesting it again, and again. My phobia got my phalos going like nothing else could. I was not a man I believed I was, but I ran with it anyway.