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We laid together on the chesterfield awhile in the aftermath of orgasm, with me at her back, my arms holding her tight. I breathed in the scent of her coconut hair as we calmed together, and it was a peace I hadn’t known in months.
I, Julian Lockley, am a sex addict, who likes the degradation of barely legal girls.
I should have still been using it as a mantra to pull the fuck away from this divine creature, but I couldn’t do it. I was too far gone.
Being a sex addict who liked defiling girls didn’t usually bring me peace in the aftermath. It brought me torment. The shadows of morality were usually ready to strike just as soon as I’d burst through my lust, but I felt no torment whatsoever with Rosie. I kissed her shoulder like a lover as we rested, skin to skin. This was the personification of romance itself. A magical experience, worthy of savouring for ever. Pictures would never do this justice. My camera would be redundant at recording the intensity, nothing but a machine compared to the beauty of pure emotion.
It was her who broke the silence with another sweet littlethank you.
My laugh was straight from the stomach. I rolled her to face me, planting a kiss on her lips amid the laughter.
“Oh, Rosie, sweetheart. There is most definitely no need for thanks in this situation, believe me, the thank yous are all mine.”
She still had cum smeared glasses. She made no attempt to clear them as she giggled along with me.
“I don’t care. I want to say thanks anyway. That was awesome.”
“How about the taste of cum, is that awesome too?”
“Yeah, I think it might be one of my favourite desserts from now on.”
“Steady on.”
She was still giggling.
“Ok, well, maybe it won’t beat chocolate fudge cake, but I’ll definitely like it on a regular basis. Averyregular basis.” She touched my face, resting her thumb against my cheek, eyes turning serious, even behind the smears. “Is that what we can be? Can this be regular?”
I, Julian Lockley, am a sex addict, who likes the degradation of barely legal girls.
I tried to reinforce it to myself.
“It shouldn’t be,” I said, morality making a pathetic attempt at returning. “You need someone considerably better than a man like me to enjoy the pleasures with.”
“I don’t want anyone else, though. I want you.”
Her honesty was always astounding.
“You can’t know that yet,” I told her. “This is your only benchmark. You’re a young girl, with a long life ahead.”
She rolled her eyes, smile still cute. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a kid, and you’re a filthy pervert and all that. Whatever, Julian. You said you’d kill Scottie today for me, and you just made me come like I never knew it was possible. Show me anyone else who’d do the same. I’ve never seen them.”
“Not on this estate, no. But in the bigger world there are plenty of amazing men who could offer you a great deal of love and passion, as well as a fulfilling life.”
“You sound like a therapist now.”
Our humour was beautiful, just like her. Natural, just like her.
“I’d be a godawful therapist. I don’t think my life experience resume would give me all that much credibility somehow.”
“Who cares? I don’t.”
Oh, but she might if she knew. She hadn’t seen the disgust in my wife and children’s eyes.
I sighed, and looked up at the ceiling, the reality of this situation just beginning to show its true face to me, but Rosie wouldn’t let it linger. She rested her head on her elbow and flashed me a smile.
“What’s it going to be next then, Dr Julian? I could do with a nice, hot drink, I’m not sure about you.”
I tapped her nose, still consumed by her.
