Page 136 of Deceit

“Testy,” she tsks, finding the button to my jeans. She’s short, almost as compact as my Emmy. Her hair is a yellow-blonde but cascades in waves through my fuzzy vision. “Sounds like you really fucking need this.”

“I need a bullet in the head more.” I stare at the faded green paint on the walls and an outdated picture of a girl smelling flowers. I’d rather not look at a woman who has to have hair to remind me of the inevitable. That I gave myself until the end of the month to send Emmy back those divorce papers and that’s tomorrow.

“That’s a little morbid.” She tries to chuckle and blow it off but she falls short, not knowing if I’m serious or just have a dark sense of humor.

I’ll let her guess.

Lucy is quick with my pants, already fisting my semi-hard dick in her palm before going to her haunches and licking the head to get started.

Her lips wrap around my shaft as she begins to gradually bob, taking her time to get me harder. With the amount of liquor I’ve consumed, I have the patience to wait and a blunt to smoke while she does her thing.

Pulling said weed out of my back pocket, I light and take my first inhale, causing Lucy to become distracted.

“You’re going to get us kicked out,” she lightly jeers, stroking me while waiting for me to answer.

I don’t.

Instead, I glance down to find that she looks nothing like the second love of my life.

Good.

This isn’t an all-time low for me.

When I was in Alabama two weeks ago to rid the Earth of some lowlife who began a sex ring for children, I made out with another blonde and accidentally called herbaby.

I could blame the mixture of tequila and whiskey but my brain won’t fully shut off that Emmy exists. That months later feels like only days since she told me she was expecting.

This isn’t normal.

Men walk around and fuck to forget but I can’t even bring myself to do that. I’m not interested in seeing another woman naked or working her up so we can both enjoy a quickie. I don’t care about anyone else or have the urge to even try to reciprocate. This—a random chick on her knees while sucking me off—is the furthest I go.

It’s how I’ll spend my life on this path.

It’s ridiculous how I’m permitting time to go by without any recourse of releasing Emmy altogether. That at thirty-two, I can’t connect with many people and I don’t find the need to. I’m happy with how I am—for the most part—but Em is missing.

And she always will be.

I haven’t decided how to forever be able to cope with it because if I keep down this road, I’ll be a born-again virgin at forty.

Lucy apparently grows tired of waiting for me to give a shit about smoking in the girls’ bathroom when she hits a spot in her mouth that gets my balls to tighten.

It fires up my suppressed need to somewhat fuck something new and thus causing me to thrust into Lucy’s throat.

She hums her approval as I take another hit off my blunt and we find a rhythm. Which proves that I can work with people and not require to use many words.

Lucy over here knows what I demand and didn’t need a whole discussion nor any compliments to start it.

It’s possible for someone to fully get me…during a blowjob.

I deserve a cookieanda brownie point.

A loud bang sounds on the bathroom door but we both decide not to acknowledge the woman who’s trying to get inside.

Lucy only replies by taking me deeper, my dick hitting the back of her throat and I growl. My balls begin to constrict and my lower stomach flurries in anticipation of an orgasm that’s long overdue from someone else.

Another thud and I deeply pull another hit off my blunt, allowing the narcotic to hit my lungs and brain. Then a loud bang rattles through the room as the door flies open, hitting one of the small white sinks in its wake.

Lucy jumps, falling to her ass and striking the tiled floors as I come face to face with the runner up in the bane of my existence lately.

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