. . Eric, her husband, was undoubtedly drunk again. Listen hear you fuckin whore, I heard him yelling, maybe if you knew how to fucking cook, I would...t have to treat you like a goddamn dog! I was walking up the stairs then, debating whether to just walk home, but the screen door flew open and Eric just looked at me, brushed by my shoulder on his departure, and just kept stepping. Fucking, fat asshole, I thought, still trying to figure out how the fat fuck landed Betty in the first place. I. "Paul struggled as he tried to deal with the man's words. He wasn't afaggot, he was Pansy Pumpscock, and he didn't lick men's asses. He neededto make men cum. But this man was calling him a faggot, and a faggot doeswhatever it takes to make men cum and he did whatever it took to make mencum and so he was a faggot and so he needed to lick his smelly ass.The struggle to make sense of it all cause Paul to weaken his resistanceto the man trying to force his face into his ass."Lick, faggot." The. More

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