It was Hawaiian. I fucking hate pineapple. She came into the kitchen while I was opening it up and I shook my head at it before closing the box and st...ffing it back in the fridge irritably. We’d been together forever and she knew I hated pineapple. I took it as symbolic of the state of our marriage. The motto on our marriage should read ‘quisque pro se’ in Latin. ‘Every man for himself’ was an appropriate sentiment.“Not in the mood for pizza?” she asked.“Barb, we’ve been together for how many. She then started to cut the hair around my dick. I started to protest; however, as my mouth opened, she sunk her face down onto my hard throbbing cock. I suppose I can do without that little bit of hair. I grunted as my thick 7 cock descended between her lips. Every few moments she would come up off my dick and I would hear the scissors cut a little more hair off. I saw the scissors tossed over to the living room floor. She unbuttoned my shirt and exposed my chest. I need to show you. More

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