B L A K E page 2

Page 2



I have always been lascivious even after I recognized Jesus as my Lord and Savior. Like if believing in God was going to stop these violent hormones, like if the creator of all Earth and Universe did not purposely make me with this sexual appetite— at least I think He did, right? I sometimes ponder and hope it’s hereditary, but I don’t even want to have a glimpse into my parents’ sex life- gross just gross, even as an adult, gross.

I beg myself not to spit out Blake’s heavy fluid, I cannot ruin my record, and I most definitely cannot let him see me be weak. I hide behind my sweaty hair and I painfully swallow— oh gawd, I winced, I almost peed a little. As I am raking my long hair back, he directs me with a nod to move to my left. I climb the stiff cushion of the back seat to sit as he struggles with his skinny jeans; why does everyone in the worship team wear those damn jeans— the whole congregation can see your package— is it mandatory? I am looking out the window of my now fogged up car, and as I am about to draw little hearts to clear the window, his voice startles me.

 “Hey, we gotta stop doing this.”

 I squeezed my eyes, “Yeah we should.”

I feel the midnight breeze rapidly fill my car— Blake swiftly leaves and slams the door. I’m sitting here and I want to laugh, laugh at myself for being so stupid, I let him use me again.

     On my way home I drown my thoughts with music, I put it as loud as my ears can take just so I don’t have to speak with God. I want to be forgiven for my sins, of course, but I do not want to ask for forgiveness just yet— because I know I am not done being a church hoe. I ugly cry myself to a deep sleep, I hear and I feel nothing, not even a dream.

————— Sat, June 22 ——————

“I can tell u lost weight didn’t u” 1:22 AM
“Baby I want to poke u wit my chile pepper😊” 2:01 AM
“Had a good time. 
U made me cum faster this time see you in the morning” 2:45 AM

Well, what a juxtaposition of texts I wake up to. It doesn’t make it better to see Blake standing up on the alter posing with his filthy hands lifted to my Lord and Savior.

It’s Sunday.

Look at him, he is totally acting all holy and handsome right now— how can he do this— he makes me sick. I wish the congregation knew that his praises mean shit. I wish that all the doe-eyed girls admiring Blake’s form of worship, secretly praying to marry him one day, would see how he forces my head onto his “head”. I wish they can all see that he only texts when he wants me. I wish they can all see that Blake is one of those guys that cares if you are a little chubby, he does not appreciate the beauty of love-handles.

If you have not guessed it, I am not fat, but I am definitely not an Instagram Flat Tummy Tea Model. I am fleshy, I have a good chunk of meat on my bones— I am Mexican, I love my tacos and my mom’s home-made tortillas de harina.

Why am I judging Blake when I am in the same damn boat I am letting him seduce me, I let him open my legs, I let him use my mouth. Hmm, I can see the outline of his long penis.


Sorry Lord, where were we?

Ah, yes worship.


I want to thank you for becoming my greatest supporter. You are what makes me keep going. I cannot stop thanking you my dear reader for taking a moment of your time to read and enjoy my creativity. You are very kind.

Come back next week for another page of Eve’s story. If I do write another page before this week is over then I will post it as soon as possible. Thank you for stopping by, thank you for reading my words. Again, if you must critique, critique me kindly 🙂



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