The Housewife
A young, beautiful she-wolf moves into the house opposite mine. She always strikes up conversations with me, her tone filled with enthusiasm.
"You and Mr. Howl have such a great relationship. Even after seven years of marriage, he still kisses you goodbye when he leaves. It’s so sweet."
She blinks playfully before continuing, "I have a friend who constantly complains about his mate. He says every time he kisses her, it feels like he's kissing a fat pig. Her scent disgusts him, and he can't even get hard when she's around.
"And at night… just the sight of her belly rolls and sagging skin makes him want to throw up."
I don’t particularly like this she-wolf, but I still offer her a polite smile.
That night, however, when my mate kisses me, he suddenly freezes—then pushes me away and runs to the bathroom to vomit.