L'heure de la triche a encore sonné

I’d noticed George had turned suddenly taciturn after we fucked. He’d quickly showered and retreated to his room.

I thought maybe the sex had been bad for him (and even after all this time I worry that he’s somehow convinced himself that he has to let me fuck him to continue living with me although he only gets exasperated whenever I bring the subject up: “Riki, please, I like…sex…I like sex you. Okay?”) but I . . .

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