Page 161 of Fervency Love

It’s exciting and repulsive at the same time. He doesn’t wait for a reaction, instead grabbing the back of my head and shoving his dick deep down my throat. I can taste his come. What are those feelings in my head now? If Connor did that, I would like it, but now I just feel like a whore. I’m not sure I like it. I’m aroused, yes, but I think I prefer to be in control. The only being on earth who I allowed to take it from me is Connor. And I’d like to keep it that way.

I don’t stop him, but when I feel he’s close, I pull him out and continue only with my hand so that he ejaculates on my chest. I don’t want him to finish in my mouth. I’m not ready for that yet. I don’t know if I ever will be.

In the morning, I wake up with a massive hangover. I’m naked, wrapped in an equally bare Larry. I try to figure out what feelings accompany me after yesterday’s fucking, because there’s no other way to name what I did with him. He said so many nice things to me. The memory of where and how he took me makes my pussy pulsate. I begin to hate myself for reacting like this. I thought only Connor would be able to stimulate it like that, and it turns out it’s simply insatiable. I’m the worst.How do you know he didn’t do worse things with that fucking blonde?My inner goddess takes my side for a change, which surprises me. Come to think about it, I had no certainty throughout our relationship. I don’t know who he did it with.You’re not together. Stop blaming yourself,my subconscious adds.

“Good morning, my love.”

That has a nice ring to it,I think.

“Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?”

“My head is killing me.”

“I’ll get you some painkillers and water,” he says, sliding a hand between my legs. “So wet first thing in the morning? What were you thinking about?”

I don’t reply. Instead, I reach for the shelf by the bed, grab a condom, pull it over his rigid cock, and impale myself on it. My boobs are bouncing steadily. Larry lies beneath me, his arms crossed behind his head, his hips thrusting, meeting me halfway. I lean over a bit to change the angle and increase the sensation. It doesn’t do anything. Did all the pleasure go away with the alcohol? He rises, holding me, and sits on the edge of the bed. He grabs my hands.

“Lean back and wrap your legs around me.”

He puts my hands on his shoulders, takes my hips in his, lifts me up, and impales me on himself repeatedly. I fall into an abyss filled with hellfire. That position is the shit! I come so hard, I sink my teeth in his shoulder to stifle the scream.

The weeks go by quickly. Larry is good to me. He cares. Brings me breakfast at work. I spend all nights at his place.

This afternoon, he takes out a pipe and stuffs it full of weed. I told him the last time I smoked it didn’t have any effect on me.

“Then try this,” he says and hands me the pipe.

Several drags later, I’m starting to feel it. I’m stoned for the first time in my life. I’m tripping. The music coming from the speakers is making weird symbols that float in the air. It’s a bit like someone has fast-forwarded the tape we’re on and those lines and dots appeared on the screen… I blink, making sure I’m not hallucinating. My mind is playing tricks on me, and my sight has joined in the fun. It’s all so magical. I try plucking the things from the air. Larry watches me, leaning against the bedpost.

“What’s up, babe?”

I say nothing, only giggle uncontrollably, toppling to the bed next to him. It’s great fun, at least until the time the music changes to some chaotic warble, like Mayday or Sensation Black. It makes everything speed up even more. I’m nauseous. My body is shaking all over, vibrating.

“Fuck, Larry, what is this shit? It’s fucking with my head.”

“Chill out, sweetheart, it’s all your imagination. Just breathe. I’ll get you some water.”

That “sweetheart” in his mouth… it sounded strange. Only Ve used to call me that. Even tripping like that I still return to him.

Larry returns with a glass of water. He opens the window. I down the water and lie on my back. Thirty minutes later, I’m starting to feel better. I’m not going to repeat that. That shit is either too strong or has been mixed with even worse things.

“We need to go to the meeting at work soon,” I recall.

“I know. How are you feeling?”

“Better now.” It’s the truth. I’m relaxed.

Mandy keeps staring at me throughout the meeting. Finally, she asks, “Abigail. Why are you so happy? And why are your eyes so bloodshot?”

“I slept before coming here. That’s why.”

She pierces me with her gaze and continues the monthly briefing.

Chapter 81

Abby

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