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.

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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.

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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