Filed to story: My Dark Romeo (Dallas & Romeo) Drama Story
We’re not playing Jeopardy, you mediocre man child.
Her name is Dallas.
Zach Sun
That’s quite unfortunate for her.
But not as unfortunate as marrying your ass.
Ollie vB
@ZachSun, agreed.
That girl must’ve been in the Judenrat in a previous life to deserve this kind of karma.
Zach Sun
Mussolini’s right hand.
Ollie vB
*Mussolini’s jerk-off hand.
Romeo Costa left the chat.
Ollie vB added Romeo Costa to the chat.
Zach Sun
Is she still feeding you enough shit to cover the Northern Hemisphere?
Ollie vB
I’m never going to unsee the picture of Romeo turning blue when she wiggled her little ass on his lap.
Boss bitch move.
Zach Sun
Or when Rom threw a hissy fit after she hit on the co-pilot.
His self-control evaporated quicker than a thought in Ollie’s brain.
Romeo Costa
She did not hit on the co-pilot.
She was just being difficult.
Brat is her entire personality.
Ollie vB
Have you consummated your engagement yet?
Romeo Costa
Are you familiar with human customs?
There is nothing to consummate until marriage.
Ollie vB
Yikes.
That’s a definite no.
Romeo Costa
A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.
Ollie vB
Asshole, please.
Drop the gentleman charade.
I’ve met dildos more honorable than you.
Zach Sun
@OllievB, you’ve met dildos?
Socially or intimately?
Or both?
Romeo Costa
I cannot believe nearly two decades of education in America’s finest establishments bred me you two as best friends.
Ollie vB
I’ll have you know I’m a fucking delight and a top-notch friend.
And I’m happy to prove it.
Shall I break her in for you?
Romeo Costa
Joke about it one more time, and I’ll personally cut off your dick and feed it to you, bite by bite, until you choke on it.
Zach Sun
Hissy fit #2 duly recorded and entered into the meeting’s minutes.
The woman turned you into an ape.
Ollie vB
…
Is that a no?
Romeo’s POV
The warning signs flashed bright and loud, daring me to heed them.
As it happened, I was so content watching my bride’s golden blush, tantalizing neck, full breasts, and macabre beauty, I lowered my guard.
She looked delectable, even in her stained nightgown. So painfully young and innocent and alive. Fondling her breasts felt like pouring ink all over freshly fallen snow.
Like the perfect sin.
Corrupting the uncorrupted.
The prenuptial agreement passed without a hitch. Shortbread scoured through every word, jotted her name on the dotted lines a dozen times, and listened, nodding whenever appropriate.
It marked the first time she’d exhibited signs of rationality.
That should’ve been my first warning.
Her feistiness returned in full swing when our lawyers departed and Cara arrived to drop off a trillion new outfits.
Shortbread soaked up an eyeful of fifty-seven-year-old, wedding-band-sporting Cara. Her shoulders sagged.
My bride had the poker face of an eager puppy.