"He carried the Seleção alone since he was a young kid, he never hid when he was needed. And in this house, Neymar Júnior is a Brazilian hero, end of story."
It honestly feels horrible.
I don't like having sex with her any more. Her tits aren't perky like they used to be, her ass less firm, her skin less tight, her pussy less wet. And I can't remember the last time she's trimmed down there.
But I suck it up. I take my gas station boner pills and I give her it to her like I did when she was more desirable.
I consent, sure, mostly for the kids, but afterwards I feel completely r*ped. I just sit there, my seed on her chubby belly, my dick hurting, my heart pounding from the vasodilation of cheap boner bills. She goes to clean up, and I sit there, in the fetal position, on the verge of crying, wondering how it all went wrong and why she does this to me.
I distinctly remember, as a young teenager, the first time I stayed up all night on the internet, until I saw the morning sun peeking through my window.
Felt like I'd passed some barrier. The night was no longer real. Just a bunch of dark hours.
That intense feeling of betrayal when you realize she's laughing at your jokes not because she appreciates your humor, but because she's sexually attracted to you.