You were always a charmer. The kind of guy who's more than willing to use flattery at every possible junction and fill a boy's head with sweet nothings. I remember how sweet you were when we first started dating. I couldn't believe how sweet you were! I'd never known a guy like you before. All the boys that hit on me wanted one thing, and that was my legs wrapped their waist. But you were so different. You treated me like a real gentleman. You never treated me like those other did, like I was some kind of cheap disposable whore. You made me feel like so much more than that.

 I remember the very first thing you bought me. It was a beautiful, rich, gorgeous tank top. You left it on my doorstep, along with a little note that read "You're gorgeous". I felt so wonderful that day. I danced around my living room, hugging that shirt to me. That night you picked me up in a rented car, a style of convertible that I'd told you I always wanted to ride in. You made my dreams come true. We drove up to a nice secluded hill, then you persuaded me to pose on the hood of the car while you took some pictures. I felt like a model, and you told me I ought to be one.

 I was so excited when you told me that you knew some agencies that were looking for new talent. You promised to show them some of the pictures. You promised that you could get me into the modeling world, where I'd have money, fame, and power. You spent all afternoon sweet talking me, and by the time the sun was beginning to set you had persuaded me to join you in the back seat. You charmed me into spreading my legs for you, and I relished every moment as you made love to me.

 No other man ever showed the interest in me that you did, and no other man could ever compare to you. You were easily the most attractive man in town, even if you would never have admitted that. You were absolutely gorgeous, and in a matter of weeks you had me eating out of your hand. I would have done anything for you. I was drunk on your promises and your affection. I spread my legs anytime you wanted me, and I believed every word you ever said. It was my firm belief that with you by my side, there was nothing that could stop me.

 We had such a passionate relationship. You told me constantly that I was sexy, and you made me feel like it. I loved how you always got so aggressive in bed. You even tore my clothes sometimes in your haste to get them off me. I remember distinctly one time, after we had made love, when you took one look at me laid out on the couch, then dived for your camera. You set it up, then fetched an ice cube from the freezer, rubbing it across my nipples to make them extra perky. I think those were some of the best pictures you ever took of me.

 I'd always had it in my mind that I was cheap, since that's how I ha7d always been treated. But you did a lot to erase that. You told me that I couldn't be further from being cheap. You told me that I was the most precious pearl you had ever seen. You gave me money to buy the prettiest clothes, taking hours to photograph me in sexy outfits. You promised that I'd be in magazines soon, that my pictures would soon be on every table in every lounge. According to you, there was nothing sexier than me, and it wouldn't be long at all before I broke into the word of high price modeling. I did every thing you asked of me, but not just to achieve that dream. I did it for you. I did it because you were beautiful, and you made me feel beautiful too.

 I sigh, gazing down at the ring on my finger. You were right, I suppose. I did break into the modeling world, and I made quite a splash. I've certainly got money now, and fame. And, technically, I have you. But I don't really, do I? I watch as your car pulls up in the driveway. It's late, and you should've been home hours ago. I should've expected this, but I was too lost in your beauty and your promise to really think it through. I just went ahead and fell in love with you, and became your husband.

 I shake my head, turning away from the window and crawling into bed. I turn off the light, holding perfectly still and feigning sleep as you sneak in, reeking of other men. The attraction wore off, didn't it? Once my career took off, once it wasn't just you taking the pictures, once it wasn't just you promising me so many pretty things. Once I became established, it was all over for you. You had to go out and find some other untapped talent, someone untouched and unknown. This wouldn't hurt so bad, Hunter, if I didn't really love you. I didn't take becoming Christopher Jericho Helmsley lightly. To me, it really meant something. Forever with a gorgeous, loving man, I suppose. But I was just dreaming, wasn't I?


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