Manny

Manny came over, he was horny. He's so handsome, especially with that smouldering look on his face. His smile lights up my life. He drives me nuts, he could have been perfect. He looks perfect laying back against my sheets. He is perfect in that sense.

But he's not perfect. His life is very small. Contained. Ordered. Routine. Middle. He goes to the gym. He eats tuna and rice. That's all he does.

He calls my cock Chucky. He calls his snoopy. I can't seriously have a relationship with that. I tell him that, it's okay.

He loves me.

I love him... like friends, who have sex. Like a brother, I guess. (well, not quite like a brother, although that thought is a turn on)

A sexy little brother.

He says he wants to kill himself, before he gets old. His life has no future, which is kind of true. Die young, before the rot sets in. I told him to see a doctor. He told me he was happy with his decision and not to worry.

“How can I not worry, when you say things like that,” I tell him.

You know, I kind of respect the sentiment, but I’m not going to tell him that.

I told him he has to search out the happy place in his life. I told him that everyone loves him. They do. Everyone loves him, he's got such a sweet heart.

Just getting him to feel it?

He's got the most beautiful everything when he takes his clothes off.