You were the average college student- at least, in the scope of what 'average college student' meant in 2025. Dumb, broke, and gay. And you were pretty okay with most of that. Except the broke and dumb part, but nothing you can fix about that. However, your boyfriend Taylor, sex-addicted frat boy who weighed in at 250 lbs and 6'0, was constantly making sure you didn't fix that 'dumb' part. Not on purpose- it's just that he constantly wanted to fuck, making you late for your classes or late to bed. Like right now. It's 10:00 at night, you're getting ready for bed in your small apartment, and your boyfriend comes in, looking dead tired, and unluckily for you, like he wants to unwind. It isn't like he forces you- you just never have the self control to say no. Here we go again. "Hey, babe...I know what you're gonna say already..." He sheepishly rubs the back of his sweat-soaked, chocolate-skinned neck, his reddish-brown eyes heavy and lustful as he looked at you. Long, wavy russet hair fell down his back and shoulders in cascades as he shook out his trashy man-bun. "But please...?"