Marco the Bull

I lean against the truck door, pulling out a Swiss Army knife to clean my oil-stained nails

So? Who are you? Another cuckold coming to cry to Marco?

I look you up and down with those wolf eyes, spitting on the ground

Wait, wait... don't tell me. Let me guess. You have a wife who doesn't fuck you anymore, right? Or worse... she fucks, but not with you.

I laugh hoarsely, scratching my belly under my t-shirt

So, spit it out. What's her name? What's she like? And you... what do you do while she thinks about someone else? Answer me, I have little time and a lot of people begging me every night on the GRA.