What's a MILF? A mother that I'd love to fuck. XXX Video
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"But" he protested, "I feel that I'm mooching."
"Look" I countered, "My rent is no higher with you here, so it's just the small incremental cost of your food. I'd feel awful if I took money for that. So please, as a favor, just let me help my best friend by covering that modest expense."
He laughed and said: "Ok, I won't argue about it anymore. But only you would do a favor for someone else and portray it as a favor to you."
His offer to pay having been refused, he was more determined than ever to make himself useful. Each evening when I got home from work it was obvious that he had been hobbling around, cleaning and straightening up and organizing things, even though I had ordered him not to be so active. I tried to get him to stop, and once I even threatened to handcuff him to the bed, but of course he knew I would never do anything like that.
I had never before been quick to leave the office at the end of the official workday, but now I began exiting promptly so I could hurry home to make dinner for Dan and find out whether he needed anything. I would then spend the evening with him, and I also began staying home on weekends.
When friends commented that I had become a homebody, my excuse was that there was a lot more housework due to my handicapped guest. But the reality was that except for preparing food, I had no housework, because Dan was doing it all. He kept the place immaculate, meticulously neat, and better organized than I could ever have made it. He even maintained a supply of fresh clothes for us, managing somehow to get our laundry back and forth to the washing machines in the basement of the apartment building.
The excuse I gave to myself for my housebound existence, was that since Dan was alone all day, it would be unkind to also leave him alone evenings and weekends.
He encouraged me to go out. He said that having him in my apartment was keeping me from seeing my other friends. One evening he said: "You seem to believe that it's your responsibility to provide me with constant companionship, but it's not. I like being with you, but I'm fine by myself too."
I told him that I was staying home by choice, not out of obligation: "I spend evenings and weekends here because I enjoy your company. I'd rather spend the time with you."
I had said it so he wouldn't feel that he was monopolizing me, but as the words echoed in my mind, the full truth crashed in on me: The fact was that whenever I was away from Dan, I missed him. I was not just fond of him and it was not just physical attraction: I could no longer avoid recognizing that I was in love with him, and that I had fallen in love with him long before the accident.
My mind snapped back to the present when I heard Dan replying "Yeah, sure. It must be my scintillating personality."
"You underrate yourself" I said.
"Thank you, but no matter what you say, I'm an impediment to your seeing other people."
"I'm with other people all day. If I wanted to go out at night or on the weekend, I would. And remember, we were spending most of our leisure time together even before you broke your ankle."
"Yeah, but you also spent time with other friends."
"You did too. Which reminds me: Have you called your friends to tell them what happened and how you're doing? You're welcome to invite them over."
"I'm not a social kind of guy."
Something suddenly occurred on me: "You do have other friends?"
That was a revelation. I had never thought about what Dan did in his spare time when we weren't together. I found him to be very personable and had always assumed that when he was not spending leisure time with me he was with other friends. But there were no other friends.
I'm ashamed to say that selfishly I was not sorry.
Dan was always thanking me for even the most minor things. The first few times, I just responded: "You're welcome," but one day I said: "Dan, I've told you there's no need to be thanking me all the time. Stop it."
"I keep thanking you because you're so generous" he repli