Don't click.

She lies on her side
drooling onto the pillowcase

it's 3am and not dark
Her sleep face is a hamster. I don't know my sleep face animal.

If love is conditioned, mine is female. My single mother taught me how. Love in my best interests. To appreciate comfortable shoes. Rebecca is quite fashionable.

Rebecca has a degree in interior design. The obviousness of the irony is unworthy of my complications. Three years ago she was ticking down to self destruction. A Cuban con man's stubby Cuban cock gave her her first bright, shiny orgasm. While distracted, the Cuban stole her optimism.

Rebecca needed fixing. Female dereliction is my aphrodisiac. I was also sniffing around Jennifer, my ice addict stripper housemate. Rebecca fucked me first. So I went that way. Both had small tits.

Three years later... The shit I sprinkle feeds with the scientifically correct mineral balance. For Rebecca its springtime. She's budding. Soon she'll be 2-nil up on university degrees. I'll have my shit.

The longer we go, more parasitical tethers hook to more vital systems. I love Rebecca's family. If she dies soon, make it cancer. When the tears have dried, her family adopts me. I stuck until the end. I am noble.

When I masturbate, the big titted girls I've fucked. I cum harder when I'm thinking of big tits.

When I want to write better, I think of Sheridan.

Sheridan ignored me a long time ago. My open offer included no penis. What use a twenty seven year old virgin? She said... nothing. To a dozen pleading text messages. Notes under her door. Messages on MySpace. One day I'll chase her down, force read my second draft. After one gig. She will see.

No she won't.

I won't. Rebecca loves me. Sheridan doesn't. Won't. Not with a love that invites my penis. One day in decades I will wear some small fame. My name will become beauty. Idyll girls reminiscent of Sheridan will roll a joint and invite my penis. Before I cum I'll think of bigger tits, because they aren't her, and I'm not a virgin anymore.