Page 31 of Twisted Minds of Sin

“I fucking swear to God if you fuck with me this…” I inhale and I clear my head, trying not to start my day by getting infuriated by the irksome fellow.

“Sorry, I didn't get that love, did you say you want to fuck me this morning?” He snorts, aware of what he is doing.

I'll kill him. I swear I will kill him. I didn't miss him one bit when I was in New York.

“Why are you calling me this early in the morning?” I bite my teeth to keep me grounded.

“I read somewhere…”

“I don't care,” I clip.

He tuts, “Do we need couple’s therapy? Because I know a shrink that can…”

“What did you read?” I know I might not like what he is about to say, but let me give him the benefit of the doubt this morning

He chuckles, “I read that when you wake up in the morning, you need to connect with the thing that channels positivity…”

What is the madman saying? Fuck my life this morning.

“It's why I'm calling you, because you, my sweet cheeks have no positivity, and I'm sending some of mine your way.”

I slap my palm against my forehead and let my head dip.

“Thank you,” I nod to myself.Fuck you.

“So, rise and shine…” he chimes, “And get ready for our lawn tennis date, I will be there to pick you up, nutter…”

I end the call and toss my phone on the bed, even though I actually wanted to smash the damn phone against the wall.

Fuck my life.

So much for channeling positivity. If I had any left from the day I had yesterday, the son of a bitch has succeeded in siphoning it.

I drop to the floor from my bed and start to do a round of push-ups as an outlet for the torture of the phone call I just had. I can't help but wonder how anyone reads the things he does and why, why, fucking why, am I the one he comes to with his great revelations? If he weren’t already a manwhore, I'd be contemplating finding him a woman.

I switch to a one-hand push-up.

I had an overall best day yesterday. Certain things are beginning to have clarity and I now know the first step to take to pass my message across.

I switch to clap push-ups but don't do more than five rounds before calling it a day.

And the fact that yesterday went by without me seeing the horrendous face of Claudio and catching a whiff of my mother’s intolerable presence again, I do say it's been the best day I've had since returning from New York.

Plus, I was able to stop myself from going after Rosaline after she saw me naked and just continued to smoke the pining away.

That was definitely my best win yesterday. Stopping myself from running after her and living out my imagination of the both of us was the hardest but overall best thing I did yesterday.

I sit on my bed and reach for the half-smoked blunt and electronic lighter on the nightstand and light it up, rolling it to make sure the flame is even.

Damn, she tasted like an addiction. Tasting her yesterday was like relapsing, even though it was the first time for me. I've imagined it so much it didn't feel like a first.

She was wet and soft.So fucking wet and so damn soft.

I close my eyes shut and drag in a deep puff, attempting to calm my now-growing erection, and then release the smoke out smoothly.

That ass. That pussy. That voice when she squirms. The soft press of her breast against my bare chest. That scent.

I fall back on my bed, keeping my feet on the floor, while my eyes dance lazily trying to stay open as I watch the smoke from my weed cloud the ceiling in my vision.

---