John's POV:
I was sitting in Tyson's room. His bed was as blue as the ocean, his hair as dark as night, his eyes as brown as warm melted chocolate drizzled on vanilla ice cream, his ass as round as Venus and Mercury dancing around in the solar system.
"John.. I don't want to wear this!" Tyson yells from the bathroom agitated and embarrassed.
"Just come out! I'm sure you look as sexy as ever." I yell back, my voice as deep as Poseidon, my Phallus as long as Ares war hammer, my heart filled with the power of Eros.
Tyson finally came out of the bathroom wearing a short, black, revealing, french maid outfit, complete with an anal plug cat tail and some beautiful cat ears.
"damn baby, you look amazing." I say; my voice growling like a hungry wolf ready to pounce on it's prey.
"t-thank you.. John.." Tyson very shyly responded, his voice as light as a kittens purr.
"now get over he-.." my phone dings. but who is it?.. I opened the message. It's from an unknown number, who could this possibly be texting me at such a late hour while I'm in the middle of something so very important my Ares hammer getting irritated. The message read;
"I can see your heart, your soul, your conk.. I love you John.. so I made this fake number so Tyson doesn't find out about my love for you..
-sincerely big booty bottom bitch."
I thought to myself, my emotions swirling around in my body like Khaos and Hades are losing at war with Ares. What does this mean?.. What is possibly going on?.. I must find out.