I am so desperate for interaction I have been following the ISPs of my readers. Or reader. I know you are in Las Vegas. Which is no eastern seaboard.
I have not forgotten my promise and I will post on deception. But the time has been fleeting as of late. Visitors. The beginning of the fall semester. So many wonderful young female bodies. And the people I refuse to attach to them.
But I have also been thinking of my dear wife. Dear indeed. We're having a spat right now. It will last a few hours more, I think. I frequently joke that I was the one who benefitted from our union, whereas she only got me. My conscience forces me to say that. An ex-girlfriend wrote me a card for my wedding and it said the nicest things about me, that for once lifted me out of the grasp of my conscience. I thought that I was something.
And despite my desires, I have achieved no infidelous plans over the past two years. But the deeds themselves are immaterial. Intentions are the field of the conscience. She is an exacting master, wearing fur and leather. I want to be abused and my conscience abuses me.
I dream of being purely commodified for my lovely cock.
I wonder if it's Penny?
2 comments:
Oh, I think it's David, from Las Vegas. Hmm. A man. Oh well. Community is community.
I'm definitely not from Las Vegas. But it could be David keeping an eye on me.
Thanks for the flattery, Bryce. Sorry I'm such a poor blogger lately.
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