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My erection stood… hard. The invitation was in the form of a suck or a fuck.
I choose none and instead breathed deep.

She came up; her head on my chest.

“… am I still a virgin” she asked

“Technically yes” I answered “for your hymen remains intact”.
”But don’t worry. It shall soon burst”.

My eyes still faced the ceiling.

How do I tell her that I had no love for her; in fact not even the lust.

Her body, once slender, had blobs now that turned me off.

The ever present stench that her body emitted was a further put off, especially when it contradicted her sweet smelling deodorant.

How do I tell her I don’t want her?
How do I tell her that the ejaculation is all I crave, for she, in no way, fits my bill!

Where am I heading to?

Wasn’t masturbation enough for me or my strained hands craved a pair of lips?

Suddenly pleasure began filling my lowers.

Glanced down and her hands were doing the job. That I hated.

The hand job was never my favoured and that she knew. Yet… why?

I pushed her lips to the erection. “Do it” I said as I threw my head back.
Moments later I was humping to the blow. Pleasure is all I longed and that I was getting.

The stench, smell, fat… nothing mattered.

I grabbed her hair tight and released.

It was over...

Guilt seeped in but I did not care.

She was my temporary and may be I was hers too.

Her breasts awaited attention.
For me… the call of duty.
It was my turn to make her happy...
But could I, EVER?

Na...

Not possible.

But I had to maintain her.

She was my offloader.

Till the other walks in… and in the other’s absence

… we needed each other.

May be virginity hurt her.

Good for me.

For they say… practice maketh a man perfect.

I spread her legs.

Time to bang.

Men… they are bastards.

Then women… ah, no less.

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