My Abusive Lover

As is the custom during most infatuations, each moment we had together was perfect. My lover had not one single flaw. I would finger each delicate detail of his smooth form in complete adoration. As my teeth playfully nibbled away at him, he would eventually open his mouth to mine so my tongue could probe within. I thought I had found heaven. I spent nearly every conscious moment daydreaming about how wonderful it would be once we were together again. We had an unusually long courtship. Looking back, it lasted for the better part of 26 years.

I never questioned that he was only around for 3 months out of an entire year. Those three months, filled with a lustful gluttony in which we were completely consumed with one another, more than made up for his long sabbaticals. Besides, the absence only made my heart yearn for him all the more.

It was in the 26th year, that I started to notice a change. He was there, but not in the same capacity. It seemed as if his intensity was shrinking. Was it that his desire for me was waning?

Other alarming behavior soon followed. He started making large, impulsive purchases without even mentioning them to me. The last straw was when I caught him dressing up in disguises and running around in the time during which he claimed to be “so busy” with other stuff.

I must confess that even during this strange experimentation, I embraced him and took advantage of the increased opportunity to be near him…to have him inside me.

I know that it’s wrong. I know that I shouldn’t accept this type of treatment, but I can’t stop. I’m addicted.