My Drug of Choice

We sit here having coffee, strangers, old lovers and I hear your voice -still so familiar- say that thirty years ago you loved me. I didn't know you loved me, you never told me so.

I thought I was your toy, your fuck doll. Don't be mistaken, I say this without judgment, simply as a fact and I attest that I was happy. I was happy just to be near you, to smell your musky smell, to hear your voice, to feel your body and your sweat. You were my 'drug of choice' and like an addict I craved you every moment of every day, and when I was with you I was happy.

You told me then that you loved someone else, someone you could not have, someone far away. You told me that her name was Julie and that her eyes were brown. I believed you even though now you don't even flinch when you tell me it was just a rouse to keep me a little distant, to keep you from having to commit.

You didn't need to lie. I never expected us to be forever. I never expected that you would want only me. Your lust was more than just a thought, a desire, it was a living thing and I knew that one day it would take you away from me. I never showed jealousy, I did not worry when lust would come for you. It was simply a fact and I took it as such.

You made a mark on me that will never go away. My mind won't let me forget the way you touched me, the way you looked at me. I remember your hands cradling my head as you kissed me, your mouth fully open to mine. I remember your lips soft and demanding, then pressing and needy, your grip tightening as you entangled my long brown hair within your fingers. During those moments my desire for my drug was satisfied, if only for a short time.

I remember you unbuttoning my blouse slowly, each button a task, a chore to be remembered. Over my shoulders slipped the fabric, then on to the floor. You kissed my neck, my shoulders, my chest above my breasts. Never touching my breasts at first, just kissing me until my breathing was heavy and my desire aroused. I remember your hands on me, your hands on my neck, my back, unfastening my bra and gently allowing it to fall off my shoulders.

My panties seemed to slip by themselves over my hips, down my legs and off. I remember your mouth, hot and open, sucking, tugging at my nipples, your tongue flickering, your teeth nipping at me.

I remember your hands on me, always moving, searching out the warmth, the fire burning inside me. Your fingers moving back the swollen lips that cover my throbbing pussy, pulling them apart as you pressed your cock inside me. I remember you pausing after the first stroke, feeling the warmth and wetness of my body around you.

I remember how you use to talk to me, telling a virgin girl every move to make, "faster", "more gently"; telling me to touch you here, or there - always showing me how to please you best.

I loved how you manipulated my body to your whim. You pushed my legs above my head to get every inch of your cock inside me. In one swift movement, you turned me over and raised my hips so you could enter me from behind. You shoved your cock in my mouth and held my head down on you as you came.

I loved the feel of you balls bouncing softly off my ass as you fucked me over and over again. Hours passed in your arms. You fucked me slowly, then faster and harder your cock stabbed at me. Sometimes you would abruptly halt, looking at me with searching eyes, judging if I had had enough or wanted more. I always wanted more...you were my 'drug of choice'.

I remember you fucking me then pulling out, stopping, with your cock just touching my pussy. Slipping in and pulling out, pausing, then slipping in and out again, and then again. I lifted my hips and pressed my legs against your back, urging you to enter me again, but you resisted and laughed. "Please!" I would mutter softly, barely able to utter my cry. "Please, please, please!" My pussy was throbbing, the teasing unbearable, the desire to have you inside me overwhelming beyond the point of sanity. I never knew if you enjoyed teasing me, or merely wanted to see the look in my eyes as I begged for you.

I came in waves. Like the ocean washing over me, engulfing me, drowning me, my breathing and my heart seemed to stop. I could not see, or hear, or think, I could only feel! I could only feel your hands, your mouth, your warmth, the throbbing of your cock urging me to cum - yet again.

The lights were always on and you kissed me with your eyes open. I wondered what you were searching for when your eyes pierced mine in that gaze. I imagined you were looking for the brown eyes of the girl you could not have, but my eyes were green. I wondered if you thought of her touch when it was mine you were feeling.

I didn't care if you did. I remember your arms around me, your grasp tightening, the redness that crept up your chest and neck when you finally let yourself go.

There seemed to be no world beyond our bed, no reality beyond our mutual need, no morning, no day, no stars, no sky.

You were bold.

You fingered me at the theatre and I gave you a blow job.

You fucked me in the surf at the beach in the dusky evening, just after sunset while a couple of surfer-types watched and cheered. My string bikini floated off with the foam so you wrapped the beach towel around me, your arm draped protectively over my shoulders as we walked back to the hotel laughing, me naked under the towel.

You ran an ice cube down my back and between my legs at the poolside then smiled and raised the cube to your mouth and sucked at the little droplets of water as the cube melted.

You fucked me while we lay spooned together on a blanket at a public park with only your zipper undone, my sundress pushed up in the back, but the full skirt draped over us to give at least a little cover, our picnic strewn around.

You put your mouth between my legs in a parking garage, car door open, you squatting in front of me while I sat sideways on the car seat.

You pushed me to my knees in an elevator.

I remember your face, red and angry that I protested your public advances. Later at home on the bed holding me down and spanking me until I helplessly cried, then laughing and kissing my face until I was soothed – making me promise to never again deny your affections and attention.

I remember that once you wanted to fuck me after I had gotten fully dressed for a party. You were fresh from the shower, bare-chested with your pants unbuckled when you caught me up in your arms.

Your tanned skin glistened with a light perspiration. I could see the desire in your eyes, as against my feeble objections, you slid my short, skimpy party dress up my back, bent me over the kitchen island counter and entered me without a word. Fucking me hard and fast and cuming the same way.

I remember you getting a warm cloth and wiping the wetness from between my legs. You ran the cloth down the little trickles - trails that your cum had made down my bare legs. You wouldn't let me shower before we left. You wanted me to go "smelling like sex" you said. Like a dog placing his scent on the ground that he sees as his, you marked me as yours.

I remember you watching me at the party, watching me as I mingled around making conversation, laughing, and drinking. I was happy to see you smile and know your thoughts were of me bent over the counter, thoughts of the men around me and what their thoughts might be...

I also remember the woman that caught your eye from across the room. She had red heels that looked like they could kill and she went straight towards you. As a greeting she wrapped her arms around your neck and kissed you like a familiar past lover. I did not wait to see if you returned her embrace. I did not want to know. Lust was there, it was heavy in the night air, I knew it would come for you soon and you would be gone, so I turned away.

I abruptly excused myself from the conversation I was in "to go to the restroom". I noticed a man following behind me, I didn't know him, but he had exchanged a quick "hello" and other pleasantries with me briefly at the bar.

He caught up to me in the dimly lit hallway as I reached the bathroom door. I didn't expect him to be so close behind me. As I reached out my hand towards the bathroom knob he pushed me forward and against the door. He caught up both my wrists with his large hands, and raised my arms above my head. The weight of his body pressed me up against the door, my face on the cool wood, one of his large hands tightly clasping my wrists.

I could see only part of his face as I peered between the door and my raised arm. I could see the muscles under his tanned skin flex as his grip on my wrists tightened.

His hot breath was in my ear. He coarsely whispered that he could smell the sex on me and he told me that it turned him on. His breath smelled of bourbon. Goose flesh popped up on my arms as he pressed his crotch against my ass. His groin was unbearably hot and full.

He moved my hair with his free hand and kissed my ear, roughly he bit the back of my neck and then whispered, "let me fuck you, he can watch", nodding his head back towards the party and towards the place you had last been.

I was a little more than a little tipsy from the three drinks I had enjoyed, my arms felt wispy, like thin reeds in his grasp. I was afraid, but like a deer in headlights I didn't run, or struggle, or make a scene. I allowed his free hand to slowly roam over my breasts, down my body, and under my dress. He slipped his hand between my ass and my panties. He ran his hand sideways between my cheeks.

Cold fear crept through me as he cupped my quivering pussy in his hand. He wiggling his fingers and felt the small bush of soft, fuzzy, light brown hair. He moaned when he touched me; breathing heavy he squeezed my wrists even tighter, caring not that his grip made me wince.

He pulled his hand back from my little bush and then forced most of his fingers deep inside me. I was wet with the excitement of the party, wet still with your cum. His fingers forced me open, withdrew a little and then forced themselves into me again. He shoved his thumb up my bum and my knees went weak; his grip on my wrists and his hands inside me were the only thing holding me in a standing position.

His breath caught in his chest. His fingers were hot and rough and they explored places you had not been, they stretched me further than I was use to.

Finally finding myself, I jerked my breath and cried out, at once I realized my cry was gurgled - that it stuck in my throat and made no real noise at all...

"God, you are tight" he said, "My cock is a real man's cock, not like that little pretty boy's cock you are used to. My cock would split you in two!"

His face was in my face as he spoke. He opened his closed eyes and saw the tears that trickled down my cheek. Abruptly he let me go. My arms dropped like lead to my sides, my face still hugged the cool wood of the bathroom door. Still frozen, I stood there looking at him, weak and still.

"Little girl" he said "I would pay dearly to feel your hot pussy wrapped around me, I would shove my cock so far inside you you would feel me cum in your throat!" his hot, coarse whisper made me shiver, another tear ran down my cheek.

He placed his hands on my shoulders and spun me around, turning me to him. His hands went to my face and pulled it to him as he quickly kissed me on the forehead, opened the bathroom door and slid me in.

Again I opened my mouth to scream. I thought he was going to try to fuck me right then – right there in the bathroom, but instead he closed the door behind me and was gone. I think his actions frightened even himself, if only just a little.

I gathered myself for a bit. I tried to wipe away the sting of his fingers inside me with tissue. I ran cool water over my hands, splashed my face, fussed with my hair. I searched the mirror for signs of tears and found none. I looked back at myself, no makeup, none needed. I was tanned and flushed, but had no signs of the fear that I felt.

I told my weak knees to get with the program and went back to the party. When I entered the room, I saw you right away. Your eyes were searching for me even while you talked and smiled engagingly with a small audience. I quickly scanned the room, the woman who had kissed you was no where to be seen.

I went to the bar and ordered two tequila shots, no need to tell the bartender to put them on your tab, he knew who I was with. I saw the man from the hall out of the corner of my eye. He too was watching me. I quickly downed the shots, no salt, no lime, and left the glasses overturned on the bar.

Just then, I wanted to run into your arms. I wanted to cry and tell you to take me away from the hot eyes that I knew were still on me. I wanted to run from the feel of the hot breath and unknown fingers shoved inside me. Instead I stilled myself and slowly crossed the room to where you were. I took your arm, shaken and weak.

You took my blush and unsteady gait for too much tequila. I could see the thought register in your mind as you watched me cross the floor.

You smiled at the thought of what you would do to me later; later when you got me home... those thoughts too were only too evident in your eyes.

I never told you of the events at the bathroom door; partly because I was afraid you would kill him, partly because I was afraid you would want to watch him fuck me.

I imagined pulling my car up to your door, being blind folded and told to slowly undress as you had made me do when you were in a particular mood.

I imagined not knowing he was there until I felt hot hands that were not yours, breath that smelled of bourbon whiskey, an unfamiliar cock penetrating me. I imagined the blindfold slipping down and catching a glimpse of you beating off as you watched him fuck me, smiling at my pleading eyes, urging me to just "go with it" all.

I imagined you kissing me when it was done and telling me how happy I had made you. You always did want to watch another man fuck me, watch another's cock go in and out of me, see the expression on another man's face when he came inside me.

I was always quite uncertain of you, uncertain of what you would do, of how far you would go, of how far you would want me to go... I knew that I had no will of my own, I knew that I would submit to your desire no matter where it led me, God help me I knew it all and still I was willing.

I never really understood your motives. I never believed I knew you. As I look back, I realize that I did know one day I would be without you and still, even then, you were my drug of choice and I had no desire to break free.

One day you were simply gone. Much as I had imagined you packed your belongings and left without a word. I did not know where you had gone, I didn't much wonder. I knew that when you left Lust would take you to another. Lust would find you someone that would fulfill your desires more than I could, maybe Lust would be someone with brown eyes. Someone whose gaze matched the one you had lost.

You sit across from me now. We are having a calm and civilized conversation, you telling me that I am still beautiful, as you certainly knew I would be...while you order me tequila shots.

You toss you head in that particular, familiar way. We sit across from each other now laughing once again. I blush vividly from the tequila and the thoughts that race across my brain. You are quite handsome. Your blonde hair tousled, your clothes immaculate. Your smell still lures me, your eyes still penetrate.

You sit there, finally serious, asking me to go back, to come to you, to let you love me the way you used to. You say you searched for me over the years, you searched for me in every woman you were ever with. I tell you now, without malice, looking full into your soft eyes that I know how you used me. You did not love me as you now proclaim.

You used me quell the excitement that burned within you. You used me when you were happy. You used me to calm your fears. My adoration gave you confidence. You used me to please yourself and you you took ultimate pleasure in my willingness to bend to your every desire.

You used me and as I look inward, as I examine myself all I can say is that you were my 'drug of choice' and I was truly happy.

You remind me of our love and again, you ask me to go back. You touch my face and twist your fingertips in my hair...all the while you seem not to know you are asking me to be the little inexperienced girl I once was.

You want me again, now that years have passed and the toils of life have beaten you down. Now you say you search for a glimmer of that little one with the bright green eyes and long brown hair, the one that made your world turn.

I reach over to you and stroke your hair. I see your face and smell your smell and a wave of memories wash over me. I remember it all but that little girl, just 18 and addicted to your touch, is gone.

I do not desire that life of uncertainty, of hunger that is never fully satisfied – of a will that is not my own. The craving for the drug is gone, even though I remember so well the taste of it. You once were my drug of choice, but today, today I kiss you and tell you that I choose instead to be free.