I f someone had told me I would be on my knees ready to suck dick for crack, I wouldn’t have believed them. If they would’ve said “Michaela, you will be kneeling at the dick of one of your husband’s rivals at your best friend’s divorce party, begging to suck his dick for an 8 ball,” there is no way I would believe them. Fuck no. Not me, the Howard Law graduate who is a partner in her firm at only 29 years old. Oh hell no, not me, the sexy bitch with the amazing husband and the most adorable five year old daughter.
No way in hell, I thought I would ever find myself in this crazy ass predicament. It’s funny the places life can take you. Life will chew you up and vomit you out, with absolutely no mercy. It will have you ready to give head, just for a high. A high that has become my greatest escape from the deep secrets I’ve been holding from husband and the rest of my family. And now, I’m down here in my satin black BCBG dress, fiendin’ for crack.
“Bitch, hurry up! I don’t have time to wait on yo’ ass,” Bobby snapped, while looking down at me. The raspiness in his voice caused my arms to dot with goose bumps. I was nauseous from the intense withdrawal I as going through. And the floral scent of the air freshener didn’t help.
I was hesitating to put my mouth of that nigga’s dick. Shit, my husband was on the other side of that door out in the party waiting for me. But I swear to god if I didn’t get high, I would die.
“Yea, I got you,” I hissed, tugging at his waistband trying to find his dick. This can’t be life. I need help because this shit has gotten way out of hand. After this next high, I’m done. I’m getting help because if my husband finds out about this, that nigga will kill me.
My knees ached against the marble floor as I unzipped his jeans and took out his flaccid dick. This shit ain’t even hard yet. Ew! Whipping out his dick, I stuck the small and soft as a noodle thingy, in my trembling mouth. If I can just get through this, I can get a hit and be out of here.
Finally, he started to get hard, while I bobbed my head and forth. My heart was beating so quickly I felt it would jump out of my chest and onto that ground. Peeping up at him, I could see that his eyes were closed and he was in ecstasy. I wasn’t even putting my all into it, not like I did with my husband, Cameron.
When I’m with Cameron, I give him that bomb head. My mouth gets soaking wet, while I deep throat him and look into his eyes. I swallow his nut like it’s a milkshake on a blazin’ summer day, because I love him.
But with Bobby, I half-assed it. Mouth dry as ash and I didn’t use my tongue nor perform none of the theatrics I usually do. He didn’t seem to mine because with in a matter of moments, he busted his nut.
He tilted my head back and he squirted all over my perfectly beat face. Disgusting. That warm and sticky shit ran down my face and dripped onto the ground while he stood there laughing at me. I shuttered as tears trickled down my cheeks, swirling in his mess.
“Here ya go. Clean ya self up before that nigga sees you,” he chuckled, tossing the crack on the ground. Unlocking the door, he scurried out of there, while I rushed to the baggy on the floor.
I clutched it to my chest and rocked it like it was a newborn baby. Tears poured from my exhausted eyes because finally I could get high. This was not my life, just a month ago. What started as a recreational coke snorting habit, turned my sadiddy ass into a crack-head.
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