Pussyboy

Rare medium

I'm so horny right now.

It's funny.

This was my halfway house and I couldn't get anything fixed. It feels like it all feels much more worse than it ever was.

Fuck —

I was just wasting money here.

If Payne just gave me the money he admitted me for this place, then it would've saved my sanity and just made my life better.

I think.

I don't know how much he paid for this shit but it sure ain't anything cheap with how much detail are on these walls alone. 

Those shitty wallpapers—

Green and olive with leaves and shit vining on the design—

This is a rich addict's halfway house, not some schmuck from Queens.

What the hell am I doing here?

It was beautiful in a way but life had a penchant for shitting on anything in life. 

Specifically, my life—

Things rot and decay. 

Bodies, too. Everything does anyway. 

What waste was it to just make it romantic when it was all just disgusting in every possible way anyway? 

Never a good day for sinner looked and cooped up in an asylum.

"Payne?"

That man was totally naked again. That fucking bastard is currently naked inside my hospital room. This shithole asylum had a naked burly man with a shit ton of musk lounging around my bed with his horse cock hanging out on the open. What are the odds this enters the Book of Records?

I mean, being a recordkeeping book by a booze company, they'd certainly be open to this possible award. 

Is this really some award for me? 

How the fuck was this anymore normal than just being addicted in the streets just this being a fancy place to do whatnot than the open streets?

A fuck ton and a fuck for me, that's how.

"You like what you see?"

That smirk again. I swear he hasn't changed in his life as much as life has changed me. I envy that. I never had that. Whatever that is—

Who wouldn't?

He was rich.

He was powerful.

He has a giant penis.

I mean, what are the odds? All those involuntary celibate nuts would envy him, and I think this bastard would like that. Oh, he'd definitely like that very much.

The narcissist that he is.

"You okay?"

I must've been staring at him. The bastard. And his cock that I'd like to suck on.

"I'm fine," I waved my hand to let him know that I was okay. I think it didn't come off that way since the bastard's smirk was replaced with a worried expression.

Sigh.

The fuck, Niall?

You and your face that can never hide emotions. How I ended up in an industry where we fake every expression that comes off our faces, I never knew? Must be that sale on anal bleachings that I took in 2004? 

Eh, never looked back but every horny man look at mine every time so there's that.

"There's something wrong," he said as came up behind me. There was something on the glass as it snowed outside. "You can open up to me."