Boop.

It is amazing how something so sweet and endearing can take a turn for the worst. Just laying in bed, giggling, cuddling, playing. Here it comes, a play full little face to face, finger to nose..."boop". Except for it wasn't just an innocent "boop". Girth booping me is adorable, I really do love it. It's cutesy, it's reminiscent of those first few months of a relationship. But then...then shit got real. Like I said- we were face to face. His mouth was just centimeters above my nose. That was his downfall. The word "boop" lost it's lovey feel instantaneously. All because along with it came his breath. Hot, unfiltered, "fuck my toothbrush today" breath. I swear I saw rings of hot breath coming down to my vulnerable nose, rings like that omitted from an 80's style death ray comic gun. I was helpless, stunned. How does a "boop" go so wrong? Comfortability, that's how. Had we been "new", he would have scrubbed those chomps before getting all up in my grill. Being together for eons though, it is obviously not an issue. You think about it in the beginning, you work to impress (amazing how brushing your teeth before bed falls under "impress")...just like you should be doing all along anyway, maintaining. So I give points for the "boop", but am left with no choice but to deduct for the trash can he pulled that "boop" out of. Trying to get a fresh "boop" is like pulling, well, or brushing, mother truckin' teeth around here.  I could offer a mouth hug every single day- but if I press my lips to his face and offer it, he'd probably pass if my breath made his dick shrivel, tuck, and hide itself behind his balls. Offer it like you wanna give it. If I really want to get dirty- I'll be prepped. You want me to swoon to your "boop"? Better brush dem' teefs. Damnnnnn, daddy,