A weekend
Friday morning I was procrastinating. Stroking my boyfriend's cock. I didn't expect it to get hard, because it never does. Suddenly it grew, and turned red. He said, "why don't you get on." It wasn't a question. I tried to ignore the grubby line under the head of it, and gently lowered myself onto him. I used to make love with no foreplay at all. I'd get wet quickly, just thinking about him, his beautiful strong body, the hard expressions on his face as he touched me. But it had been at least a month since we'd played around and my whole body was frozen. It really hurt, just getting him inside me, and then every movement chafed. Gingerly we pulled apart. He put his arms around me, and said it hurt him too. I got up and went to work.
Saturday it rained. We got high and played scrabble in bed. My boyfriend is good. No one else I know has ever beaten me. He prides himself on using all his letters. He takes IQ tests online, because they say he's a genius. I haven't taken an IQ test since I was a kid. Maybe I'm scared. The cat is still not snuggling. The only time he wants to cuddle (and suddenly it's desperate) is when we're cooking drugs. I'm carefully balancing a small spoon with two days worth of pay in it and I have a cat jumping all over me. Of course the second I've had my shot and I scoop him up in my arms he wriggles and calmly wanders off.
Sunday didn't rain. We got high and played scrabble in bed. The day blurred into the day before, with a bit more pain because the pawn shop doesn't open until midday on Sunday. And that was that. The nightmares came again.
Saturday it rained. We got high and played scrabble in bed. My boyfriend is good. No one else I know has ever beaten me. He prides himself on using all his letters. He takes IQ tests online, because they say he's a genius. I haven't taken an IQ test since I was a kid. Maybe I'm scared. The cat is still not snuggling. The only time he wants to cuddle (and suddenly it's desperate) is when we're cooking drugs. I'm carefully balancing a small spoon with two days worth of pay in it and I have a cat jumping all over me. Of course the second I've had my shot and I scoop him up in my arms he wriggles and calmly wanders off.
Sunday didn't rain. We got high and played scrabble in bed. The day blurred into the day before, with a bit more pain because the pawn shop doesn't open until midday on Sunday. And that was that. The nightmares came again.
posted by tui at 6:30 PM
4 Comments:
Tui, your writing is suffused with sadness. I pity you and your addiction when i read it. I'm sure that's not what you want, pity. But you're my age, and live in a town that i know so i feel entitled to this pity. Sometimes i feel angry that you can continue to do this to yourself. I don't know you but i sincerely hope that you want to stop and free yourself from addiction. You don't know how much support you will have when you try, but hundreds of anonymous people like me will be thinking of you, and rooting for you!
eewwwwwwww, is he allergic to soaping up his crank to get the grimmlies off??? Too real to deal with, think I will pretend I did not see this one. :o)
I have two papers to write today, class tonite of course, so I will try to catch up later.
shaun
ewwwwwwwwww again I say
Are you on the methadone? Is it not working? I never know if theseare things you remember or life today. I so want you to be clean even if it's on methadone like me. Then kick his dirty cock to the curb the day after you install a bad ass alarm system. I relate toyou so well. love you,
KEL
It's the 'truth' in the writing that makes it so good. Most people would try and cover up the truth with nicities..hence changing the whole story.
I so admire that you didn't..it sets you apart. I said it before and I'll say it again..you have a gift at the written word.
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