DON'T TEXT
I'm so much better than this.
I don't need this.
I always say it will be the last time. I say that every single time. I try not to text them. I try so hard!
They never contact me. If I don't press send, I will never hear from them again. It's really that simple, just don't text them and get my old life back.
Don't text. Don't text. Don't text.
Don't do it. Think of how embarrassed you always are the next day. Think of your family and how you were raised. Think of your husband and how you won't be able to look at him. No, don't think of him. Think of their two smug white faces, think of how sometimes I hate them both.
Just stay away from them! Respect yourself! I am 28. I am a university administrator. I am married, I have a young son. My father is a surgeon. I was brought up well. I am a good girl.
I don't need this. I don't need them!
Just don't text!
My fingers hit send.
Just like the other times.
They always smile and sneer when I turn up at their dorm room, two cocky self-satisfied young white shits. I am ashamed from the moment I get there, my cheeks burning hotly already even as I knock on their door. I can't even meet their eyes when I first arrive.
It begins again.
They make me kneel naked while they put an old leather dog collar around my neck. They make me crawl. They make me say things.
They hoot and laugh at me while they make me beg.
For their cocks.
I don't even know where my words come from. Deep within me they burst forth then suddenly it is a stream. Yes, I want to suck their cocks. Yes, I want to lick their balls. Yes, I want to be fucked on all fours while I slurp on a thick white dick. Yes, I want to be fucked in the ass with their big white cocks. Yes, I want all my holes wrecked. Yes, I want to be their dirty yellow whore.