Futa On Male Comic

On the day of the SAT exam, my girlfriend’s childhood friend, Benedict Casper, forgot his admission ticket at home. She insisted on retrieving it for him, but I begged her not to go. In the end, Benedict missed his final chance for taking the exam and, overwhelmed by despair, he jumped to his death. Years later, my girlfriend, Ella Simpson, and I graduated from Whitmore Institute of Technology, landed high-paying jobs, and built a picture-perfect marriage. But on the anniversary of Benedict’s death, she stabbed me repeatedly, her voice trembling with rage, “You killed him. If I’d gotten his admission ticket, he would’ve never jumped.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the exams. Ella’s frantic voice rang in my ears, “I have to go back, Dominic. I need to get Benedict’s ticket!” This time, I smiled and said, “Go ahead. Be careful on the way.”

My wife, Lindsey Kelsey, suffers from an aversion to intimacy. For ten years of marriage, she pushed me away again and again. Then, on our anniversary, she abandoned me and, in front of the crowd, kissed another man with reckless passion before the two of them walked hand in hand into a luxury hotel. Afterward, Lindsey brazenly declared that a real man should be magnanimous, not petty. Magnanimous? Then I wish them both eternal bliss—may they be bound so tightly they can never break free from one another. Later, I handed Lindsey the divorce papers with a blank expression. I was determined to walk away from her. But Lindsey went mad when she realized she couldn't find me anymore.

I learn that I've "died" after returning from a business trip. First, my daughter's teacher stops me from bringing my daughter home. She says, "Eloise comes from a single-parent family. Her father's the one who's always picked her up after class." Later, I discover that the password to my house's main door has been changed. To my surprise, my daughter's teacher can enter at will.

On the day we decided to get a divorce, I saw Miranda’s account book while I was packing up my stuff. Aside from our daily expenses, Miranda had also set up a scoring sheet for me. Miranda had taken notes of all the things I had done ever since we started dating. Some of them were such miniscule things that even I had forgotten. She took note of them all with a red pen, and she scored them by either awarding me points or deducting them. However, the further down the sheet, the more points were deducted. In the end, I saw Miranda add one line in black ink. [He’s no longer the Henry Jones who used to love me: -100]

At our engagement party, my sister said she saw my fiancee at the hospital for a prenatal checkup. Inga Lane looked at me nervously, then smiled and handed the test results to our parents. “I’m one month pregnant.” Both families were over the moon. I was the only one who could not smile. After everyone left, Inga said, “I’m sorry. I’m pregnant. I was drunk that night. The baby is Xion’s.” I clenched my fists and tried to stay calm. “Then, why did you come to the engagement today?” She leaned toward me and said, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to marry Xion. He has cancer. He doesn’t have much time left. “We grew up together. He’s the only child in his family. I just wanted to give him a child to carry on his family line.”

At the parent-teacher conference, Emery Carey's essay, My CEO Mom, won first place, earning thunderous applause from the class. But the mood soured when my daughter ran to me in tears, her cheeks marked with red handprints. "Emery hit me again. He said I don't belong in his class and spat in my face." I scooped her up and marched to the teacher to demand answers. The teacher brushed it off. "It's just kids' horseplay. Don't blow it out of proportion. Emery's mother is the CEO of Mills Group. Get the picture and pull your kid out. Don't affect the mood." I froze, shocked by the absurdity. Then I dialed my lawyer. "Prepare the divorce agreement. Olivia is leaving with nothing." She'd been using my money to fund her lover and his son. That betrayal would not go unpunished.

I made a deal with Sonia Quindt—the billionaire CEO. After I'd proposed to her ninety-nine freaking times, she swore she'd finally show up for the hundredth. Spoiler: she didn't. She was out there at some concert with her boy toy. And, of course, someone caught them on livestream. Big kiss. Big viral moment. Meanwhile, my face was plastered all over the internet too—lonely guy number one, waiting for a bride who never existed. Everyone online started making bets. Who was the mystery woman? How long until I came crawling back for the hundred-and-first proposal? Sonia, apparently struck by some last-minute guilt, promised she'd make it right next time. Said she'd actually show up. And she did. Wedding dress. Perfect makeup. Cameras ready. She got a text from me: [Sonia, there won't be a hundred-and-first proposal. We're done.]

On the third month after our breakup, my ex-boyfriend, Julius Rowe, pins me onto the bed and ravages me tirelessly. But the thing is, he used to be very gentle with me when it came to bedroom matters. Scared out of my wits, I try to flee from him. "Stop it! You weren't like this before!"

After failing a bomb disposal mission, my wife, who's also a bomb disposal expert, gives my shield to her true love. I grab her hand and plead with her not to do it, but she shoves me away. "You're so selfish! You have a system that can revive you—why do you even need the shield? Jeremy is already weak, to begin with. He can't handle any impact and needs two shields to keep him safe!" She doesn't know that the system has only given me two chances to be revived. I used the first chance when she begged me to save Jeremy Sawyer. During a mission last year, I used the second chance to save her from the brink of death. It looks like I'm going to die today.

I give birth to my child after accepting a sperm donation. Later, my CEO husband passes away due to an illness. After I take over the company, I take five years to strike a balance between work and caring for my daughter. On her birthday, a shrew makes me out to be a mistress. "Look at how scantily clad you are—you're doing it to seduce my husband, aren't you?" I explain that I'm single, but she slaps me and snarls, "How dare you claim to be single! Your daughter looks just like my husband! I'll show you today what the consequences of wrecking someone's family are!" She drags me away like I'm a dog before the kindergarten's entrance as my daughter watches. The shrew isn't satisfied with that. She laughs cruelly and says, "I'll show your daughter what a shameless woman you are." Then, she throws herself into a man's arms. "How are you going to reward me for getting rid of a woman who thinks she can have you after having your child, honey?" I look up to see the doctor who helped me with my test tube baby back in the day. He's now my subordinate.