B L A K E page 4

Page 4

Chapter 1

Continued…

Dear Diary,

I cried all the way home.

Blake is a bastard.

I can’t begin to tell you how much I hate him right now. I don’t even know how I am writing this. My eyes are swollen I can barely see.

After the evening service Blake and I had sex in my car. In the usual place, in the Taco Bell parking lot next door to church. Today after he dicked me down Blake wanted to talk, which he never really wants to because as I wrote before he feels “guilty” after he fucks me then he wants is to leave and pray it out. Right. Like if God isn’t tired of Blake’s shit. After Blake “repents” he treats me like he is “holier than thou” until his dick wants me again.

But today was different… he wanted to talk.

So, after he whipped the condom out the window he asked me if I knew a girl name Maryanne Roberts. Of course, I know her! Who the fuck doesn’t? She’s like so perfect, “virgin Mary” has the perfect everything, her body, her hair and those fucken green eyes; the last I heard her family is extremely wealthy.

In the pit of my stomach I already knew where Blake was going with this.

Then he told me that he feels like she’s “THE ONE”! Are you fucken serious?! Then what the fuck am I?

Without thinking I asked him about us and you know what he had LOS PINCHES HUEVOS to tell me, that the only reason why he started to talk to me was because he needed to take care of his “fleshly” desires and masturbating was not going to cut it.

He said, “You seemed like good pussy and I wasn’t wrong, but I need my wife to be a woman of God, a virgin and younger a lot younger than you — oh and of course not fat, but this was fun babe”.

Those words cut me DEEP, but just to show him that I am a boss bitch, I told him that this was getting a little tiresome and I was glad he chose another victim.

I am tired of myself. It’s fun and games when I am horny and I end up sleeping with a guy, but I hate that I fall for them so quickly. I thought this could be something. Why am I so stupid? Why did I have hope for him? Why did I beg God? I begged that Blake would be my future husband. And now at this very moment all I hope is that he rots in hell, fucken asshole.

I leave my diary open to dry. As you can imagine, I cried on it.

Desperately, I yank at the zipper from my Sunday dress, I can’t wait to take it off. My soaked panties are on the floor, I couldn’t bare to sit in them a minute longer. Looking at myself in the mirror makes me cry harder- I look pretty when I cry. Once I am in the shower I let the hot water fall on my face, I wish it was scorching just so that I can feel a little more pain.


Hello my dear reader, thank you for stopping by. Thank you for being supportive and patient.

Sincerely,

Castle

B L A K E page 3

Page 3

Chapter 1

continued…

I help at the little coffee station after the service— many Sundays I don’t like to, but my family is well known, and I must “be the example”. I am carrying a long sleeve of cups across the squared courtyard where I can see everything and everyone. There in the courtyard, they all gather like cockroaches— I should say “like ants”, but I am a bit dramatic. There are so many people walking, talking, laughing, hugging, that I am almost invisible; I like that.

In a split of a second Blake’s presence fills the open courtyard and I begin to watch him with my peripheral vision. I do not understand myself sometimes, just a little bit ago I hated Blake. He makes me cringe, but I want his attention. He makes feel insecure, but I want him to want me. From the sea of voices, I can hear his laughter echo, my heart immediately races, and my palms are sweaty.

           I have always been, what people call, un niña buena, to my family, to those around me, especially to everyone at church. Something I do not want leaked out, is the fact that I like sex a lot; I never told anyone the first time I had sex and, yet my mother claims “que El Espiritu Santo” told her. Well, I begged my parents not to tell a soul, but I know that they themselves did not want anyone to know. I know my parents want to maintain their status of “perfect Christian parents” with their “sinless Christian children”, if only they knew how many blow jobs I’ve given.

            Blake knows how to ignore me, he knows how to be so close by, I can smell his very expensive cologne yet emotionally apart that it seems like we are strangers. I see Dino, a church friend that I actually enjoy talking to, he is into fashion and a little feminine for my taste, he is witty and funny, very funny. As we began to talk, I feel all my senses rise and I purposely laugh louder and harder so that Blake can hear me, I even exaggerate my hand movements as I continue the conversation. I feel stupid for doing so, but in this moment my body finds it necessary— I need to show Blake that I am not focused on him, when in fact I actually am.

           The courtyard starts to clear out, people must be heading toward the second service and I lost track of Blake, damn he is probably apart of that worship team as well; dammit, now I am getting a little melancholy.

           From behind me Blake’s voice makes clitoris throb, “Why haven’t you ‘text’ me back?”

            “I didn’t know you actually wanted me to answer,” I sneered without my control.

I grab a rag and clean up the pretend crumbs and coffee stains— I do not look up; I don’t want to seem eager.

           “So, I’ll see you tonight after the 7 o’clock service, same place, don’t be late or else you are not getting this holy meat.”

When I realize he left, I come down to earth and wonder if anyone saw him talking to me; I look around and I don’t see anyone whose opinion matters to me. Hmm, my panties are wet, very wet; it makes me smile. I know I am a descarada, but right now I do not care.


This week has been a bit busy for me, so I do apologize for this late post. I have to tell you that I cannot stop thinking about Eve Romano, isn’t she crazy? I love her. I hope you are enjoying this material as much as I am enjoying writing it. Thank you for being a fan of my work. If you must critique, please critique me kindly.

Sincerely,

Castle

B L A K E page 2

Page 2

CHAPTER 1

continued…

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.

Fuck.

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 🙂

Sincerely,

Castle

B L A K E

Page 1

CHAPTER 1

B L A K E

How did I get myself into this mess? I do not understand how I am currently on my knees using all my strength trying not to choke and vomit on his throbbing dick. I had enjoyed this a couple of weeks ago when I deceived myself in thinking he liked me, and he was the man I was praying for. His name is Blake Rios and we met at church. I am cringing just thinking about it right now. Ugh, why isn’t he cumming already, dammit hurry up please I cannot keep going I can feel my jaw lock.

Anyway, Blake is incredibly handsome that it hurts, incredibly good looking that it’s cloying, makes my teeth itch. His physic is your All-American Dream boy, tall, dark haired, strong, soft in the eyes and that square chin that held his perfect kissable lips. Blake Rios is a sublime mixture of his Latino dad and his Irish-decent mom. He caught my attention that day we had our church community outreach and he asked me for my phone number. Something about him made me feel very uncomfortable, uneasy and definitely insecure, but I was intrigued, I was all in. When Blake asked for my number, freely and voluntary I recited it to him. I think I know what you are thinking, ‘she met him a couple of weeks ago and now she is sucking his dick?’ I know, I know, I seriously know how it sounds which is why I am wondering how the hell did I get into this situation? It must have been his enticing text messages and those abs that peeked through his Hanes Comfort Soft Crewneck T-shirts. My God I hate myself right now.

Ok, now he is spilling out, oh lawrd it tastes very bitter today, it tastes like warm hatred, I promise he use to taste like sweet nothingness.

Hello I am Eve, Eve Romano. What a name for the kind of person I am, huh? Biblical. My parents decided to name all their children bible names and of course me being the oldest of four they named me Eve; Life. Oh, and my last name well, chisme has it that my Mexican-American dad’s great great great puta grandmother slept with an Italian that had the most Italian last name ever, “Romano” and bada bing bada boom she stole the last name for her male twins out of wedlock. I don’t know how much of that snippet is true, but I’d like to think that part of her being a puta is true just to find some sense of why I am such a slut, it ran in the family. I almost want to write LOL.

——————

Thank you for stopping by, thank you for reading my words. Come back next week for another page of this story. I am writing this as I go along, so I do ask for your patience, and if you must critique, critique me kindly 🙂

Sincerely,

Castle