Shocking Oatcake

My affair with Mark Oaten has been exposed by the tabloids. You can read about it all on the BBC News site. My youthful good looks and nubile body have obviously foxed everyone, though. They describe me as being twenty three years old, which, of course, is not true. I am twenty six.

Mark, or Oatcake as he had me call him was alright, but he was a bit rubbish in bed. It never lasted more than a minute and melting chocolate buttons in his bum-bum was not my idea of deep joy. Still the hundreds of pounds that he lavished on me every day made up for that along with the occasional box of Milk Tray. But he was tight. He ate most of the chocolates himself, saving only a few for me - and those with the soft centres didn't go in either of our mouths.

Oh, a joyous few months they might have been. But it's all over now... I remember how we met...

I'd just started renting. I was at a party in Crouch End. The stitching in his clothes must have been terrible because they all fell off at once! In his despair, he tripped whilst trying to escape from the glares of onlookers and accidentally landed on me, my dick impaling him in the anus. He turned to look at me and it was love at first sight. Accidental love, but love nonetheless.