We were halfway through a workout when he said the words that would change our relationship forever.
My brother Trevor and I been working out together for about a year and a half. Honestly, it was pretty much the only time we spent time together - we were both too busy to hang out much outside of the gym.
He's bi, which once upon a time, would have really weirded me out. Two guys, muscles, not many clothes on - you can imagine, yeah? But he's still my brother, and I love him, so when he told me that he "swung both ways", I tried not to let it affect our relationship.
So we'd been chatting about women, and he'd said that there was this one chick that he couldn't get enough of. I laughed at that, of course - I'd been in the same situation.
And then he said it.
"Yeah, her name's Michelle, and there's...there's just something about her pussy, man."
I'm glad that I wasn't holding any weights at the time, because I swear I would have dropped them. That sentence, it brought it all back. Michelle, her pussy, the court order...I must have gone white as a sheet, because halfway through a set of hammer curls, he just stopped, put the weight down, and put his arm on my shoulder.
"What's wrong, man?"
"Michelle..." I gasped, pushing away the water he'd offered me. "Oh, Jesus...is she black?"
"Well, yeah, but...-"
"Does she work in finance?"
"Yeah, I think...-"
"Doberfield Investment, down-town?"
There was a pause, and he just stared at me, before nodding.
"Oh, Christ..." I said, and lay down.
The room was spinning, and it was a few minutes before I could muster up the energy to get up and tell him the story.
"It was about a year ago...before you moved to the city."
###
Michelle and I had met at a bar. She was cute, but nothing to write home about. She liked muscly guys - explained why she'd taken a shining to my brother as well, I guess. We'd gone back to hers that night, and she'd asked me to go down on her.
Now I'm not going to lie - I like pussy as much as the next guy, but given a choice, I'd rather fuck one than taste one. But Michelle was very persuasive, and so it wasn't long before my tongue was buried in her snatch, and I was surprised to find that I was enjoying it. No, more than that - it was amazing. Better than sex.
She came a few times from my tongue, and she wanted to fuck, as well. I wasn't going to say no, but all the time she rode me, I couldn't help but wish that I was still going down on her. It was like Trevor said - I couldn't get enough of it.
Not that I've ever done them, but the only thing I can compare it to is like being on a drug...after tasting her, I was on a high for a few hours. It was glorious.
I got her number, and kept seeing her, and every time I did, I'd insist on going down on her for an hour or two before we did anything else. She was nice enough, but the main reason I was seeing her was the taste of her pussy. Outside of the bedroom we didn't really click.
She hinted that the bedroom visits were going to stop if I didn't start taking her to nice places, so I figured that would be the end of the relationship. I stopped calling her for a few days, and ignored her texts.
And after about a week, it hit me. I'd been having a hell of a week, and hadn't been able to work out why - I'd been hungry, but never really managed to be full. I was thirsty, but no matter what I drank, it never really satisfied. And then I got a text from her, simply saying "Cum by n eat me out?"
I knew, in that moment, exactly what I needed.
I needed to taste her pussy again.
###
"Oh, come on..." Trevor laughed. "You're telling me you got addicted to this chick's pussy?"
"You have no idea," I continued.
###
It was withdrawal, plain and simple. And after I worked it out, I went straight around to her place...she didn't let me in, just started yelling and screaming at me. "You're just after my pussy! You don't love me!"
I tried to convince her that it wasn't true, but nothing I could say would persuade her. And I quickly realised that I'd do anything -
anything
- just to taste that pussy again.
I started sending her flowers at work, trying to show up and take her out for nice meals. I figured if I could just convince her that I was really into her, then maybe she'd let me go down on her again. She ignored my messages, and when I spent two grand on a mariachi band to greet her at her work, she'd had enough.
She got a restraining order put out against me. I broke it a couple of times - I had to try to convince her to give me another chance - but after spending a week in jail, I realised that it just wasn't worth it.
###
"Wait," Trevor said, "you've been to prison?"
"Nah," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Just jail - prison is for if you get convicted and all that."
"You went to jail," Trevor corrected himself, "...how come you never mentioned any of this before??"
"It was when you were looking after Mom...I didn't want to, y'know, worry anyone."
"Bro, you went to prison!"
"Jail."
"Jail! You went to jail...just because you wanted to go down on a chick??"
"You've tasted her," I said. "You know how amazing it is."
"Sure, it's nice," he said, "but I could easily go without it."
"Ha!" I laughed, and finished my tale.