I had his dick in my mouth. I swallowedhis cum like it was my last meal on earth.
And he let me do it.
He wanted me to do it.
Hecame on tome!
What the hell is even happening right now?
Fuck, I’m never mixing Molly and pot again!
When I eventually drag myself out of the bathroom, Kaden’s on the couch, head in his hands, tugging the strands of his hair. Bet he’s freaking the fuck out right about now.
When he hears me, he looks up and stands.
“So, uhm,” he says, scratching the side of his nose. “I’m gonna…” He nods at the door, eyes on the floor, and thank fuck for that. My gaze is darting everywhere, like I’ve never seen the inside of my own apartment before.
“Yeah,” I nod.
He shuffles around a bit, picking up his hoodie from the floor, pulling it on as he moves to the front door. I slowly follow him a couple of steps behind.
“Okay, see you later,” he says, turning the door handle.
“Catch you on the flip side!” I finger-gun at him, immediately regretting it and wishing those were real guns so that I could put them in my mouth and put us both out of this misery.
16
Kaden
I’mtryingtoblockeverything out. Trying to make my mind go blank. The sounds of my fists connecting with the punching bag is almost enough to drown out my thoughts.
Almost.
Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it! Don’t— and then a flash of images is rushing through my head.
Me on the floor last night, panting like I’d just run a marathon. My hands on a narrow waist, fingers digging into soft skin, and hips thrusting and grinding.
I yank off the gloves, throwing them on the floor. My chest heaves with every breath, and sweat drips from my forehead, down my temples. I swipe a hand over it, wiping it off on my t-shirt.
Click.
Another image flashes by, hands and lips on my chest, my stomach, my collarbones.
I put my head in my hands, tugging at the hair, groaning, but that doesn’t help at all. All it does is force more images through my head. Of me, groaning, moaning, a fucking mess on the floor,with a dick so hard I thought I was going to pass out from the lack of blood in my head.
And then Seth… Fuck!
Seth.
How could I do that to him?
Jesus fuck, my head is swimming with images of him with his hands on my dick, his lips wrapped around it, his cheeks hollowing as he—
I get a stream of heat through my body, and it’s rushing south so fast I get lightheaded. The air whooshes out of me and I double over. Hands on my knees.
Is this what a panic attack feels like? Sans hard dick? And why the fuck am I hard anyway? It must be the fucking Molly.
Yeah, that’s it.
