Lust 2

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Sci-Fi and Fantasy Erotica  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

A chronic loser finds himself addicted to the power of orgams.

LUST

Part 2

 

She’s an attractive woman, 40ish, no more than 50. Hair cut shoulder length, she wore it to her back when she was a teen. She has that cheerleader/cool girl vibe that some women never grow out of. Nothing bad, but it gets stale over time. Gestures and attitudes that once wowed the boys fade to caricatures no one now takes seriously and some even pity.

She’s kinda like that. Her heyday came and went with prom, she had a resurgence in her mid-twenties, married the man of her dreams and now his shine is gone. He doesn’t get an instant erection when she drops her towel, or bends over. She watches, steals glances and  never sees anything resembling the good old days. 

I eavesdrop on those contagious memories. The hard fucks that made her the envy of her friends. Then the  years they hurt more than pleased.  She complained, it didn’t help, so she bore the pain out of loyalty. Then there was nothing. No erection at all and she was grateful. She even didn’t care if he had a side chick or not. She just didn’t want anymore of his woeful lovemaking. 

How can a grown man lose his skills?  That’s what she asks in her mind.

She can’t read thoughts like me, so I don’t even know why I try answering.

She still loves him, but often sneak peeks to see if anyone else is giving her a backward glance.

Some men do. Though not the kind she wants. None of the strong, well-built he-men she used to string along. That generation has grown sunken and pot bellied, slumped shouldered, hump-n-dump Kings. 

She doesn’t want those.  She wants her orgasm to be a trophy not an afterthought.

And why not? She’s a good  woman, a good wife, still wearing her state mandated  plague mask to keep me from fully seeing her face. That way I won’t be able to call her out if I ever see her with her hubby. She’s a good, respectful wife, and he’s the love of her life. 

I understand where she’s coming from and pull my fingers through her hair. Her body’s tight, she still takes pride in her butt and legs. She still can drain a good pair of balls. That’s what she’s thinking as she pushes back on my erection and moans.

I can hear all that in her head. Her thoughts are shouting, “I’m still sexy, right? I’m still the stuff of dreams and coveting? I’m still the heartbreaker? The man trap?”

I hear her thoughts over low guttural sounds and fingers rasping the restroom wall. She’s going to cum soon because I have  my dick way up in her. Her panties and leggings down around her calves. 

I got her just the way she wanted me to. She’s been  beaming a telepathic storyline since she walked into the store. The instant she opened the door  ‘Look at me. Notice me. Make me laugh. Talk to me. Make me feel smart and witty. I’ll laugh and giggle. Promise. If you make it feel good, I’ll go along, I’ll laugh and give you my attention. Look me in the eyes and let me stare into yours. I wanna see myself all new. Flirt with me and make my stomach knot. I want my heart skipping beats, going fast as if it was almost out of time. Try to seduce me. Make me trip over my feelings and follow you into the back of this car rental store. Kiss me. That’s all the foreplay I need. A kiss will open me up because you’ve earned it. Wait. Turn me around, I really  don’t want to see myself in your eyes because I’ll see the guilt written on my face. Turn me around fast and do what I want you to. Yeah. You take control. Take away my responsibility. I can say I don’t want it, but you know I do. Do it fast, before I come to my senses and say no. Don’t trust me to protect you. I’m too drunk in my needs and insecurities to be anyone’s rock.’

I want to say “I know.”  And that I don’t mind.

My hand covers her mask to keep her yells from blasting through the fibers. Her tears wet my skin. She bites my palm, but I don’t scream. I’m her anchor. She bucks back onto my thrusts. I yank her flush to me. Whisper, “Squeeze my dick.”

She does.

“Harder.”

She does. 

“Gawd it’s so good to be all up in your shyt.”

Her butt goes in circles. I tell her don’t stop. It’s what I want, to see that butt she’s so proud of come to life. “Bring yourself to me girl, so I can blow out your eyes.”

There’s no love, no fidelity, just everything she wants. The foreplay was me wanting her. The bad pickup lines, the flubbing over myself to impress her. The obvious flirting. Then  the kiss. The crooked, emotional path to the first touch, the dash of tongues. Her fake protests designed to hook me by the heart and make my hands go to her hips. 

I am what she needs. I fuck away the kids’ whining, the dinners no one thanks her for,  and stroking his ego after a hard day. 

She tries to say something but an orgasm knocks her senseless. A grizzled uuuuuh and she’s gone. Eyes rolled up and buried, her legs give out and all that she is, falls on my arms. 

But that’s not the end. I embrace her stomach and shoulders with my arms and thrust as deep and hard as I can every 6 or 8 seconds until she’s stiff and shaking. 

“You want to drain a good pair of balls? You know you are.”

Her head goes up and down, Yes. Yes. Yes.

I thrust again and give her the push she craves.

Her pussy snaps the instant I shoot. It goes crazy and chomps my cock. I hold on through the pain and euphoria and sounds of her vagina squirting  the floor. She gives a long ultrasonic howl then faints. 

She wakes hunched  on the edge of the toilet and counts her breaths.  It seems like she’ll fall if I let go of her, so I don’t. I stay with her until her breathing returns to  normal. I gradually release her and move back to give her space to pull up her underwear and stretch pants. 

I watch her stand. Everything about her shakes. Her hands tremble as they straighten the leggings at the hips. Her legs shake like it’s her first time on them. Then she speaks and her voice sounds like two or three of her are trying to talk at once. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“Not your friends or anyone.”

“Nope.” I promise Jane. Your secret is safe with me. I don’t make her promise me the same, because I know she’s going to tell the second hubby makes her feel obsolete again.

I wipe the last tear from the corner of her right eye. She says thanks, but the mask muffs the soft sound.  She brushes by me on her way out the door, One last touch to make sure I know she’s real.

I wait almost a minute before leaving. I wash my hands and splash water on my face to mute the fragrance of her perfume, and use a wet paper towel to wipe my dick to dilute the aroma of her pussy.  I zip up, check myself in the mirror and walk out.

She’s driving off in her rental by the time I reach my counter.  I know I’ll never see her again, and really don’t want to, because we both got all we wanted from each other. Sex has become my drug. I now feed off other people’s orgasms, the bigger they cum the higher I get when I have mine. 

It takes my mind off my problems, the horde of customers with different demands and must haves, the resumes unanswered, the stressful deadend job I can’t escape, the girlfriend supporting me by letting other men fuck her.

I think of Jane, about what was in her head when her orgasm went off. The fulfilment she had, the satisfaction and vindication. She loved my dick in her. She loved my muscles and the smart, proper way I spoke. The slang I used. A big educated, black man with some street still in him. That’s what she’ll tell the girls. He chased me and fucked me in the Mike’s Car Rental bathroom. He couldn’t  wait to get my panties down. That’s what she’ll say. Oh, and he was like half my  age. Yeah. She’ll put that in too. 

That buzz keeps me going as I lock up the store. It follows me into my car and rides with me. Looking out the window I see desires, and formulations of crimes, love scenes and people ready to jump into temptations.

I pull into the Burger King drive through and order two chicken sandwiches. Work and Mrs. Jane didn’t leave me time for lunch. The girl behind the checkout window wears a black mask and clear plastic gloves, but it’s the cute coworker she needs to worry about. The one she hopes to sleep with tonight. The little shit who’s going to talk her into a threesome. Him, her, and his hidden boyfriend.

I don’t say anything. Taryln always tells me  to  mind my business unless it means money. I get my sandwiches and start  pulling  away thinking I’m not going to  tell the girl to watch out for herpes.Then I see memories of  her boyfriend, a nice guy judging by her recollections. A flowers for no reason kind of guy, the type who texts I Luv U every break. Then I look at her, young, dumb and naive. They’re all experimenting. Life is just beginning and shouldn’t be overly complicated yet.

They need a good Samaritan, because they aren’t really bad kids. I decided to fill the role,  “Love the mask. Always, always wear protection. You never know.”  and drive off.

Feeling the love as I go down Roberson Street, over to Broadway and Taylor. Jane is still fuelling me. I’m seeing everything through rose tinted vision.

My awareness  has been increasing with every orgasm, and I increasingly need orgasms to blunt my depression. Sadness keeps trying to  swallow me. I’m not young. I’m 30 and should know what my path is. I shouldn’t have to be worried about playing overdue student loans, how I’m going to keep my car. How am I going to pay for it when it breaks down. 

The announcer on the radio says the country is in chaos. I switch to music and relive being in Jane’s pussy the moment she got everything she wanted.  My mind soothes itself. I’m at peace. People and places pass. Memories and desires whizz by. I park in an empty lot and eat. This used to be one of the busiest malls around but people don’t leave their homes much anymore because they don’t want to wear masks. There’s just too much suffocating these days.

I check the mail on my phone to see if any of my resumes have been answered. Click off and sigh.

A food truck across the lot serves coney dogs. I shift in my seat back and close my eyes.  My body trembles and part of me hopes it’s not the virus. There’s no way I can afford an emergency room visit. It passes and I fall asleep with my windows down and a folding knife in my hand. 

I wake up to litter blowing across the lot and masked SUV moms with masked kids walking briskly to the mall’s glass entrance. 

The first thing I think of is Ray Bradbury, Martian Chronicles. Everything’s familiar and strange. 

My thumb rubs the textured grip of my knife. I don’t like guns, they’re too bulky and I can have a knife in my hand at any time without anyone knowing. Holding it gives me comfort, like holding a woman who knows you’re vulnerable without her.You caress her, think of her as permanent. Lie your head back in an old car and soak in the autumn breeze with her. 

I look around some more, listen a bit. Let the world come to me with all its grayness. I got my knife, I got Taryln and I’m still flying on Jane’s orgasm. Everything is beautiful and I’m smiling like a Disney cartoon. The Italian restaurant behind Bordermans, is sending out good smells. I take out my phone and text Taryln, Want Italian tonight?

Yeah. You cooking?

Always. Just don’t look for the to go boxes in the trash.

You really need to learn to cook.

LOL. You busy? Can I call?

Nope. Having my feet licked.

Oh. Wish I could help.

You can do my back when I get home eating Italian. Chicken Alfredo. Where you getting it from?

Jusino at the mall.

Get some breadsticks :)

I laugh and text Will do. She quickly sends me a kiss. I text back I LOVE YOU.  She sends me a ;P and another kiss. I laugh because right now life’s damn good.  I’m going to buy some pasta and breadsticks, return home to the love of my life and live in her hugs. 

The moment is inhaled and I see only what I want to. Edges are blurry around people in medical masks, rushing the mall before it closes. Wisps of erotic fantasies playing behind them like movie trailers. I see them through discerning eyes, screening them for the next great high. The most powerful cums are packed in desperate people. Taryln has become too happy and complacent since we’ve been together. I love being inside her when her body tingles electric, but I  can only get high off the most needy, grasping orgasms. People like Jane, who are at the edge of a cliff and need a finger to push them over. Orgasms like that make me forget my pains because I’m more in control. I’m all they got, the justification of what they do, the approval of who they are. The fleeting adoration and love they can’t find elsewhere. All comes from me. I get as high as God did on the seventh day.

I take my time getting the food, because I don’t like getting home before Taryln. That little bit of loneliness is devastating, even when I’m crack fiend dizzy. 

We were able to buy out her former roommate and became sole owners of the house they had among the  respected families and elderly neighbors. I pull into the driveway of the American dream. Crisp lawn I cut every Saturday morning like all the other perfect men on the block.

Our home is built of red brick and  three months of me whispering in Tarlyn’s ear while she entertained clients. She had her hotel manager friend reserve side by side rooms for her. I would be in one sizing up her clients on her security monitor. When she sent the guy or gal to shower, I would use a mic to tell her what to do. She stashed her earpiece in her purse once she had the information. Having hair hanging  down to her butt hid the piece from view until she could take it out. It was my idea and she thought it divine.

She eventually upped her rates, doubling them by promising, “You’ll want no other”. And they didn’t. Taryln became the go to darling for the local rich and discrete. Seekers of an experience no drug or trip or pyrotechnics could give. 

“I’m your little girl. You want to do  what? Oohh I don’t know.” “Bend over Mr. G. Lube that ass as I watch. . .Feel this? 9 inches. Ribbed. Studded. You’ll remember it when you sit down in the pew for morning services. Yes I’ll jerk your penis while I push my shecock in you. Just don’t cum on my floor or you’ll have to wipe it up with your face.” “I got a story, about a girl who grew up to be a judge, who wanted to be recorded moaning as a woman licked her out and there is a chance the recording will be left out for her disapproving husband to find.”

That’s how we got our house, one made of bricks and secrets and electric eyes and ears. 

I was evolving during those months. My inner sight became keen, I could  see lusts moving like independent people hand and hand with their owners. The more I made customers cum the sharper my senses got. I could see through lies and hesitations. Smell menstruating pussies from across the street. The thumping heart of a coffee shop voyeur, staring at legs in short skirts, or the way men move their lips. I could hear thoughts as if they were public conversations. Feel skin as though it actually brushed against me. 

Taryln helped me focus. “If it doesn't bring in money, ignore it.”  I would nod and kiss her, careful not to smudge her makeup if we were in public. My arms were always around her as she thanked God I could see sins. Hell was so far off. Live, cum, glaze the world and be happy.

Money flowed from grateful customers. Taryln offered to share it and I said “No, no. That’s all yours baby. Buy yourself something nice.”

She laughed, threw her arms around my neck and kissed me with the slip of tongue lovers give when they’re satisfied. Then she brought out her housemate, moved me in. Got herself a car as sleek as a missile, used client tips to buy stocks  that’ll cushion her retirement from the whore game. We took trips to the islands. Basked, celebrated, fucked. Woke to sunny mornings and did more basking and fuckin. Those sun drenched times on the beach, just out of the sight of tourists with their screaming kids. Every stroke threw her head back. Her nails ripped me when I sucked her blood. She jetted big squirts that wet the sand. I would keep moving as she stiffened and sizzled. Kisses melted on her. Her pussy ate my dick and sputtered. 

Taryln would open her eyes to see me over her, hugging her safe from whatever storms would come. “I love you.”

She said, “I know. I can feel it.” 

“You got powers too now?”

“I’m a girl, we have all kinds of powers.”

We laughed. I never had to ask her if she loved me back because I could feel it with every squeeze of her cunt. When I came I got dizzy high. I laughed so hard sometimes the tourists would say there’s a drunk man over there. Where? Behind the sand.

One of those beach fucks is where my awareness jumped to the next level.  I was wavering on my elbows, dick in Taryln,  mind sailing on her love when her everything became mine. We were beyond  body to body. I shared her teenage isolation, the groping for her place among a family of winners. The skinny shaggy boy who was her first crush. He was the one she gave her virginity to. The little sweet talker later got her to open her legs for the internet. They got good money for it. Showing pussy gave her the reward and purpose she was seeking. Spread the legs and everyone would pay to see. 

After a while she didn’t need her boyfriend anymore, and kissed him goodbye because he wanted half her cut. Her family found out about their daughter from friends and coworkers. Some were paying customers who couldn’t wait to snitch without telling how they knew. Her mother cried, daddy couldn’t look at her. They tried to stop her but she had found her stardom. Juvie put her away for a year, that was the sentence for producing and distributing child porn. She would’ve gotten longer, but mom the lawyer couldn’t have her baby locked up  for years with bad girls.

When Taryln got out she was brand new. Those jail birds taught her about changing her name and being an escort, how to convincingly cover her age and word her promotions so her online ads wouldn’t be flagged. She had a hotel room a month after being free. That first dick, a husband and father, cinched the transformation. The Taryln I know was born.

She had her purpose. I was her completion. A lover who accepted her without demands. We walk hand in hand and I’m still euphoric. 

Her gratitude flooded me. I told her about that ultimate bond I had when I came. I didn’t give her details. I kept quiet about how her life was striped naked and I knew more about her than anyone in the world. All she had to know was that I loved her.

 We grew as a couple. I texted her between johns. Massaged her when she came home. She still says I’m not a good cook, but she eats up everything I make and steals seconds. I’m the reason her butt’s bigger. That and the carryouts. I really don’t like cooking.

I love and need her so much. I do, I really do. Yet over three months the highs from cumming in her began waning. The thoughts that came to me were of us, bright, flawless joy. The intensity was dulled by confidence and complacency. There was no hunger and yearning, nothing for me to feed on.

My depression began seeping back. I hadn’t worked a real job since becoming Taryln’s partner, and seeing her take one guy after another became too much. I told her I had to clear my mind. Morose thoughts were causing me headaches. She looked at me and said she understood but needed me for one more gig.  Leaning close, she described a big money client she needed my intimate help with. The woman wanted a threesome, she was a corporate bigshot who needed one night without responsibilities. Two people taking control to make her secret wishes come true.  “She wants to be a dirty little fuck poppy.” Taryln said. “It’ll be fun. You’ll like it. This once. I want you to be with me.” Then she said, “Please.”

I told her no. I didn’t care if she fucked others, I know it’s business.  I just couldn’t do it. She giggled and hugged me. Her voice slipped into siren mode. “I know baby, but pleeeease?” 

Her mind was talking to me in visions, I could hear her heart race and her pussy squish as she dreamed of me standing naked and embarrassed for the client’s inspection. And if I got hard, oh that would be too perfect. She was creaming from the thought of all that power, how I loved her so much I was willing to disrespect myself for her. 

When I finally said yes, she played it cool and hugged me like she was boss. That night I pretended I was asleep as she shook the bed rubbing her clit. She popped loud and I never said a word. I just felt her water dampen the sheet at my butt. I rolled like I was in the middle of a dream, and laid an arm around her as she panted. She fell asleep, lying in her wet spot with the weight of my arm keeping her trapped. 

Taryln had sucked the hotel manager enough times to get a business suite in the hotel. It was the biggest one I had ever seen. The curtains were closed to block out the nighttime skyline. Only the four accent lamps were turned on, and even with their glow the room had an ochre dimness. Taryln dressed like an executive. She had me get naked and stand at the end of the meeting table. “You look good.” She kissed my chest. I could hear the little explosions going off in her head as she mentally jacked to the moment. “The money we get from this we’re going to put in savings, alright?”

I couldn’t nod or anything. I felt too isolated and rock bottom. I used to sit at tables like this and help plan business strategies. I looked at the tray of toys, rubbers and oils on one of its seats and thought about how far the mighty me had fallen. 

“You’ll like it. I promise. I won’t be mad. Promise. You know what? I’ve been thinking, you don’t have to say anything, but I think I know why you’ve been having so much trouble keeping jobs.”

“Why?”

She roamed her fingertips over my bald pubes. She shaved me herself for the night. “You’re a pleaser. You give and give and give and are always too afraid to ask for anything back. Those jobs took from you and dumped you when they were done. You didn’t get much help, or anything. You went at it mostly alone, taking the initiative to be the best employee. That’s bullshit. You need to ask what the fuck do I want? That’s what you should ask yourself. Tonight, get what you want. What YOU want.”

She tugged my penis and went to answer the knock at the door. In came the most ravishing blonde I had ever seen. Movie star quality, a crown of hair, lips like a heart. Eyes blue and penetrating. One cat step after the other. Graceful cool, sashaying hourglass hips. Diva legs sky walking on four inch stilettos.

Her name was Arie. Tarlyn took her hand and led her to me. “You like him Arie?”

I knew yes before she said it. Everything in her was shouting hallelujah. I didn’t say a damn thing. I just kissed her without stopping, put her hand around my cock. She almost fell out of those heels as I grew. Her fears became pride and pride morphed into lust. I put her left hand on my chest and she dug in.  No responsibilities. No worries. Her mind said  “It’s just me. On the pill. I’m going to just focus on me.” 

She and I both. I took Taryln’s advice and married Arie’s need to mine. I lifted her on the table and made a performance of unbuttoning her blouse. I was less formal stripping off her underwear and opening her legs. Taryln was standing there watching with bombs exploding in her pussy. I took her by the back of the neck and shoved her face into Arie’s slit. “Lick it.”  She did and Arie’s back went up like the St. Louis Arch. No judgement from me as hidden lesbian fantasies became real. I kissed the sides of her legs. I talked to her in sentences laced with dirty racism,  tore her down to street level as I blew her tits and sucked her areolas through my teeth.

I feasted on both women, my lover and her trick. Mingling juices in each pussy, breaking barriers and dying taboos. Licking asses and making the girls go down and lick mine. And when their pussies were near exhausted I made them spit on each other and use whatever the suite had to offer as butt plugs. The stuff on the tray wasn’t creative enough.  After all that playing, mine cock became the first one Arie ever had up in her ass. Taryln held the butt cheeks so I could see the triumphant back and forth. I barked for them to change positions as I cleaned my dick. Arie held Taryln’s little rump so I can see the action that made her cry and bang the table with her small fists. 

Ssssssh Don’t say a word. I’ll wipe you both. Stay like that,  heads down, butts up. Two beautiful women on the glossy table. East and West, cleaned like babies and the dirty tissues thrown in a gold plated waste can. 

I pushed them together. East and West touched side to side, both blushing like virgins. I put my hands through their hair and made them my puppets. They kissed  each other because I was strong enough to make them. Mouth to mouth, mouth on neck, mouth to upper arm. I was the Master and it felf so fucking good. I edged to an orgasm, but I needed theirs first. All their doubts and insecurities came to me, their spiritual screams of breaking free and breathing. Arie relished her filthy wanderings. My chest expanded, fell back. I pumped her ass and  spanked her like a spoiled child. She came so hard the table quaked. Taryln wobbled on it. Little Tarlyn,  I grabbed her under the stomach and lifted her up. Her hands were flat on the shiny wood, so she was still shaking when I bit her clit and sent her over an emotional chasm. 

Gorgeous, proud, wheezing Arie. My cock slid back in her ass. She was crying when I pulled her head back. A kiss, a whisper. A slight push forward, “I wanted to do this to you.” and she popped loud as a gunshot. Everything that made her cry flooded into me, I shared her life from birth to frantic search for freedom. Then her getting it, the breaking of her chains and releasing herself to the dirty things done to her. At that exact moment I was Arie and had one of the biggest orgasms of my life. 

I never told Taryln why I was so high for the next few days. She never really asked. I was loopy and walked around with a dumb grin on my face.  Taryln kept checking her weed supply to make sure I wan’t dipping without permission. “High off love.” is all I ever told her. 

When my high started waning I asked for another threesome. She laughed and kissed me, “No. I know you don’t like them. To be honest I don’t want to share you again. Even for money.” I wanted to slap her silly but didn’t. The depression was worse than before because the high was so glorious and showed me how good life was supposed to be.

I loved Taryln, but hated her for not helping me feed my habit. That’s when I started looking for a real job and found out how far the world had passed me by in just a year and a half. I got the job at Mike’s because it was the only company willing to pay me above minimum wage. 

I needed a fix more than ever. I couldn’t use prostitutes because Taryln did all the finances and had me on a stingy allowance. 

“I’m not making the big money I did when you were whispering in my ear. Fucking the body isn’t as good as fucking the soul.”  But she never told me my new job sucked. God rewarded her with the pandemic. She started doing subscription web shows to supplement the fucking. Within a few days the shows were bringing in almost as much as when we were partners. But she didn’t like doing them as much as fucking because face-to-face she was the boss, online she felt more like a product. We agreed, for her mental health, that she could still have personal appointments.  As for me, many of the companies that passed me over had to shut down for quarantine. Mike’s was deemed essential by the state and stayed opened,  so I guess Heaven was looking my way as well. 

Mike’s was also a good feeding ground, ten to fifteen customers a day. a half a block from the mall. So many inner demons to choose from, walking by casually as part of the human herd. 

I watched them and played with making selections. I wasn’t going to be one of those doomed junkies. I made plans, set down ground rules. Number one: No hurting Tarlyn. Number two: No hurting the prey. Number three: My highs couldn’t interfere with work. 

The first fix was by accident. At a gas station restroom of all places. I looked around my urinal and watched this college kid pee. I smiled as he grew. Drops of piss finished falling and he was holding a hardon over the drain. 

I measured his breathing, knew from reading his mind that he wondered what would it be like to have a man look at his dick and simply, boldly, admire it as the wonderful sex organ it was. I stared at his cock and made my own breathing heavier. I looked into his eyes and leaned back enough for him to see my own penis and how it was growing in my hand. 

I complimented his good cock. He didn’t say anything. I asked him how he liked mine, and he still said nothing. He stood at the urinal nervously holding himself with a mix of shame and loathing, pierced  by arousal. I asked him if I could touch it. He said he wasn’t gay. I smiled and ran a finger under his cock’s belly down to the smooth sack holding his balls. 

He whimpered and precum bubbled thick from his peehole. I touched it and he made the sound of air hissing from a balloon. 

Once again he told me he wasn’t gay. But he didn’t run, didn’t push me away. He was 19 and wondering what he was all about. Trying to decipher the clashing thoughts in his head. He wanted women, he wanted me to grip his cock hard. He wanted to hold mine. He wasn’t gay, certiainly not totally straight. He wanted a hot girl to be his wife. He wanted to kiss my penis. 

I strung him along, played with his wonderful organ,  and guided his hand around mine. We stood in this lime smelling space with me teaching him how to stroke another man’s dick. I dared him to kiss it. He said no. I stroked him harder, heard his resistance crack. A tight grip under his penial cap kept him from cumming. He whimpered. I told him to suck my cock. This time he did. I jerked him hard and released my grip enough for him to shoot like a hydrant. 

Him cumming made me erupted in his mouth and he didn’t even try pulling away. It  was all part of his education, he was learning he liked semen as much as pussy juice. Maybe more. Don’t matter. The only important thing is that we both were giddy and dazed. I never got his name, but I was high for a couple days afterwards. 

From there I was on a roll, finding a new cum target  whenever a high started to fade. I became expert in seeking out the despondent, drifting, hopeless. I was their missionary, seducing them with what they craved and barging into their personal lives for payment.

 

********

 

Taryln’s car is in the driveway. I get out of mine and wave to the silver haired guy mowing his lawn. Taryln knows him by name. She knows everyone on the block by their first names. She’s that kind of decent person. 

Me, I walk into the house with the bag of pasta and serve it to her on a plastic plate and smile. A glass of her favorite wine and a kiss on the lips. It’s hard to read her mind because all her thoughts are so bright. “Why you so happy?”

“I just am.” She  watches me as we eat. Bath smells still on her. Lavender and fragrant hair, a sporty scent. 

I finish my food first, put her feet on my lap and begin massaging her toes. Her thoughts are blinding white light. After dinner I make love to that light. Happiness comes pouring from her pussy and spills over the sheets. I lose my mind in the flood and drench her with my own. 

But there isn’t the high I get from the desperate. In a couple of the days I’ll get angry over more rejection letters. My nerves will fray over Taryln’s excessive need to be right, and defensive at the same time,  I’ll get mad because she and I are too tired working every waking hour to clean anything but the cam room. The taste of carryout will go sour. I’ll need another twisted fuck. Someone I don’t know and who won’t give a damn about me except for sexual release.

“You happy?’ Taryln’s finger draws hearts on my chest. 

“I am right now. Yes” 

“Why?”

I look at her with a smile on my dumb face. 


 


Submitted: October 19, 2020

© Copyright 2021 Jisilver. All rights reserved.

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Comments

VanillaEssence

simply fabulous.
Top of the class here.
I couldn't stop reading it.

Mon, October 19th, 2020 8:46am

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