Charlie bought home a box of the fanciest donuts you have ever seen, last night. Who knows where he got them, and why? Charlie is not big on explanations.
He put them on the kitchen bench and told us to eat them.
He's perhaps not eating such things since he started on a gym kick, oh I don't know when, 6 months ago, 12 months ago, I can't remember.
He's getting big and buff. You should see his arse in a pair of jeans now a days, the boys getting some form.
Sometime recently, he had to take his shirt off in the kitchen, and didn't he look good. I had to look away. Jasus fuck!
I can't perve on the 22 year old nephew, it's just bad form. And, I don't think about Charlie that way, not normally, no I don't. Only when he catches me off guard.
Anyway, when I was up early this morning, I had a second donut with my 5.30am coffee. Oh, it was really too much, all caramel sauce oozing out and all. I wish I hadn't. I've felt a bit sick ever since.
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