I remember laying next to a redhead whose name I hadn't known. His room filthy. Covered in years of dust. Engulfed in neglect. I remember clothes thrown about. Cat hair in the air. Dog fur with it. I remember thinking how strange it was to have fur floating about but no animals to inhabit this home. Whispers of little pals long gone. I remember the ashtray's overflow of cigarette butts and tiny roaches from anorexic blunts.
I remember how my skin felt on the scratchy sheets. How disgusting and satisfying it was to be laying in filth. I remember this squint of his eyes beneath his glasses, beady and unfamiliar. Judging.
I remember admiring his mother's collection of national geographic magazines and overgrown plants. I remember her. A quaint tiny woman sitting on one end of a couch. Connected to a breathing tube while smoking a cigarette. She was beautiful. Pale, White haired, sweet. Dying and lively at the same time. Her eyes, full with the dust of what was. I had fallen in love with her the moment I laid eyes on her.
I can feel the grief that my body computed into lust before tears could form. The feeling for wanting to be dominated. I remember the feel of his wide slimy tongue filling my mouth. Stubby hands with rounded nubs stained green. The smell of marijuana wafting from them as he roughly pawed and my nakedness beneath him.
Laughter clawing its way free from me, replaced only by moans of disappointment.
I remember shoving a pale freckled 7 inch cock into my mouth to suppress the sobs. I remember the salty smell of it, As thought It hadn't been washed in a day or two. I remember the delicious shame and regrets that it washed over me bathing me in something other than grief. How wonderful it was. How delicious.
a rough write for someone who likes a rough read. Perhaps I will return and tell the story properly. Perhaps not.