I had opened Pandora’s Box, and there was no turning back. The morning after I felt odd, didn’t know why...I even looked different. Besides my jaw hurting I was fine physically, but emotionally I was a wreck; eager to get on my knees again, but reluctant to admit it.
My room was a constant reminder of what I had become. What I had did. I had sucked dick, and I liked it. No, fuck that. I loved it. Every time I sat on my bed, Jason invaded my thoughts. I could hear him moaning, sighing, whispering to me; giving me the sweetest instructions of how he wanted his dick sucked. His profanities gave me a rush. Because of our bed wrestle, I didn’t wash my sheets for a month …I wanted his scent as close to my nostrils as possible; don’t judge me. Many nights following, I would close my eyes and envision my mouth wrapped around his entirety. Lost count of the times I masturbated.
Even though I took pleasure in this lust, I tried over and over again to convince myself that I didn’t like it. I deleted my chat line membership, and lost Jason's number. My first taste was as sinful as Eve's bite. It had awakened something inside of me I ignored. Deciding to remain discrete about my intimate desires with men was my only option. Daily I began to crave dick, like a vampire craved for blood. Although shy by nature, my need for this blood motivated me to find my next prey. Or perhaps have him find me...
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