Naked people smell a comedy 1

Chapter 2. Jason, Lalo, Jose Luis Lopez,Julio, Jorge, Michael, Richard Curry,

The first day I met them, they were so eager to love bomb me with affection, paid for fast food meals, flowers,and yes I broke up with all 10 of them due to extreme body odor and Hygeine.

Jorge with the pancake soggy grey testículos. Armpit rashes. Enough said,

Richard Curry told me he wanted to make love to me, love bombed me a lot, called me beautiful, He love-bombed me, called me beautiful, the only thing he was making love to was bacteria. This man didn’t shower , I’m fresh.” No, sir. You weren’t fresh. You were fermenting. His scalp with pimples looked like a pepperoni pizza auditioning for a Costco commercial.

Happy valentine day! Richard sprayed cheap cologne all over his body. I started to make vomit sounds, It smells like shit! what’s that smell! I kept driving my car for 20 minutes, the odor was so strong, I parked the car at the park and vomited. We went to the Game Stop he farted, I vomited again. His mom yelled at me after I bought Richard Curry 2 nail clippers from CVS.

My last date with Richard he sat next to me, he smelled like armpits, i found out he only does laundry once a month because he didn’t even have 5 quarters at the laundry mat

. I video chat with him once, The video chat began innocently enough, but then the camera went on… and my world collapsed. There it was: his blazing orange pubic hair, perfectly matched by the inferno under his armpits. t wasn’t just orange — it was unnaturally, violently orange, the kind of shade you only see on baby carrots. The pubic bush was thick, coarse, and wild, each strand catching the light like copper wires on fire. Parts of it even shimmered blonde, as if the flames were licking up toward gold. It looked less like bushy body hair and more like a radioactive tumbleweed bush that had mutated into its final form.

The instant my eyes locked on it, my stomach trembled into absolute nausea. There was a huge rash on his thighs I saw on the video.

t I’d vomit out my entire existence.

Needless to say, I never slept with Richard Curry. Not just because of the gonorrhea rumors, the thigh rash, the orange pubic hairs, but because if I had gotten within three feet of that man naked, I would’ve fainted on the spot.

I saw bright orange pubic hair and orange armpit hair, my stomach got nauseous suddenly. I never had intercourse with him because rumor had it he had gonorreah,

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

Europe was the best lover I ever had.
My nickname of his house? The House of pleasure. Eating fried chicken and Mountain Dew after
Here’s the problem: bad Hygeine bad breath. He farted sometimes not too often.
He had a nice body, his face had no acne, no pimples, no freckles, not even wrinkles, skin as soft as velvet,
He had nice feet, baby soft feet, almost angelic like, I massaged them for 30 minutes sometimes.

The bedroom activities betweem Europe and I doesn’t just hit the spot—it erupts like that first blissful gulp of ice-cold Coca-Cola on the kind of summer day that melts the pavement beneath your feet, a sparkling explosion that fizzes straight to my soul. It’s as if every bite of the most decadent, flavor-packed jambalaya—steaming, spicy, rich, and unforgettable—has been poured into my heart all at once, igniting every nerve with fiery delight.

Each thrust drove me into the depths of hell,

I had to end the relationship because things got weird.
There was no air conditioning or fans at his house. He did not wash his blankets and pillows much they smelled like sweaty armpits. The dog had so much fleas they would bite my legs so hard it would hurt for weeks.

Homeless people keep breaking in his house, no dish soap, dog has fleas,