My loins ached longingly as I bore witness to Kayla's first foray into opiate experimentation--a pursuit that I hoped would develop into a torrid love affair. Having been only a few hours from my last sexual release I knew my anatomy might not be immediately receptive to my desires, but I was determined to force the issue.
Kayla was now taking her third hit of heroin off the foil; Sienna having insisted that she finish it when Kayla tried to pass it back after the completion of her second hit. I was no expert but it looked like there was plenty of life left in the dark brown ball so I figured that Kayla would have more than enough to get stoned off her ass.
I wondered if she'd manage to nod out after doing so much coke earlier in the evening, I figured the answer was probably 'no' but I hadn't lost all hope. As she held the smoke of her third hit in her lungs, she caught me staring at her intently and turned her face to smile at me. Her eyes were glassy, and her pupils pinned, which made her bright green irises stand out in the most beautiful way. Along with her still carefully applied eyeliner, she was a vision.
Finally, she relented to her body's need for oxygen and exhaled a near invisible stream of smoke, pursing her lips as sexily as she could to tantalize me.
"You're loving this, aren't you?" she asked me point blank.
I felt no need to conceal my joy and answered plainly.
"I really am. You look so incredibly sexy when you're getting fucked up," I admitted.
Her thick lips curled into a smile, and she bit her lower lip, looking a bit demure despite a foil being in her hands. It did what I suspected it meant to do, however, and I scooted over and leaned in to kiss her passionately. Kissing Kayla was always a truly otherworldly experience. Her lips were so large and so plump that it sometimes felt like she was devouring me in the best possible way.
Her thin tongue jutting out from those massive, soft pillows seemed so slight that sometimes I'd have trouble keeping track of it to suckle and taste it the way that I liked to do. Amber and Sienna both had thick, 'bee stung' lips that represented traditional 'DSL's' or 'Dick-Sucking-Lips' as they were called when I was a kid. But Kayla had lips that seemed oversized for her face, and if I didn't know better, I'd have wagered that they were filler enhanced.
For some, they might be considered too big but for me I couldn't get enough. Sometimes while we kissed, I would take an uncharacteristically passive role and let her lips envelop me and smother me like the sexiest monster movie scene in cinematic history. Other times I tried sucking them into my mouth and suckling them, tasting them, and enjoying them like the most delicious food in the world that I wasn't quite able to swallow.
This time I was intent on doing it all, and after letting Kayla assault me for a few moments I went on the offensive and took to tasting and slurping on them to try and detect any nuances introduced by the heroin. Truthfully, I wasn't able to detect anything too different and they still seemed to have 'tobacco' as the primary flavor profile which I certainly wasn't complaining about. I pulled back after nearly a minute straight of getting lost in the ecstasy of kissing her and we smiled at each other like two goofy kids.
"I think I love you," she blurted out suddenly
My smile faltered before I had a chance to catch it, and although my composure had only broken for a moment Kayla had picked up on it and her expression had shifted into mix of embarrassment and shame.
I scrambled for something to say, not sure what was even appropriate or true. I didn't think I was in love with this gorgeous young woman, but not due to anything she had or hadn't done. Besides fucking like rabbits, we hadn't really spent a ton of time together. We did have a fairly long history of being boss and subordinate at work, where we engaged in light banter and occasionally a bit of 'fatherly' advice or encouragement but that hardly accounted for enough to determine deeper feelings, at least from my point of view.
"I'm sorry, that was a stupid thing to say," she said, placing the foil down on the coffee table and standing up.
"I think it worked because I feel warm and cozy, but also tired and pretty out of it. Forget I said that, I'm gonna go to bed," she continued, smiling awkwardly and trudging down the hall.
Sienna stared at me with an unreadable expression before standing up and following her.
I turned to look at Amber who looked bemused.
"What the fuck?" I said to her in a strained whisper.
She shook her head slowly back and forth, a smile blossoming on her face.
"You've got that something, you always have. It's a curse that beautiful women can't help but fall in love with you," she explained.
I stared at her unblinking for a moment, wondering if she falsely believed that she had cleared anything up for me.
"Hon, she's a young girl who probably doesn't have much to compare it to and she was stoned out of her mind. I'm sure she was just caught up in the moment. But honestly, your attention is a powerful thing. The way you look at us, the intensity and passion of your love is... it's like the greatest drug there is. I don't know if you've ever really understood that part," she went on.
I mulled it over and thought about it a moment. What was so amazing about my attention?
"I'm sure it's part of your 'special interests,' but it's intoxicating to draw your eye. I'm not stupid, I've had thousands of men look at me like a piece of meat and that's not what I'm talking about. The raw passion that you have for me when I'm smoking or getting fucked up, it's like I have a special key to unlock a depth of desire that nothing else can even come close to matching. It's a silly schoolgirl thing to say, but it makes me feel like I am the most important thing in the world in those moments," she continued.
"But you are the most important thing in the world, whether smoking or getting high, that's been true since we were fifteen years old," I countered.
Amber smiled, tilted her head knowingly and reached for her pack of Newport 100s. I wanted to protest, but at the same time I would never dream of it. She shook out a cork-tipped cigarette and placed it between her lips, flicking her yellow Bic and training the flame on the very tip. In a brief moment of intense suction, the cigarette was alight, and her cheeks were hollowed out in a mighty drag. An obscene snap inhale, impossibly large but effortlessly reclaimed, formed as a tight ball of milky white smoke that quickly met its demise as Amber's ravenous lungs snatched it down the back of her throat with a 'pop.'
As her lips pursed to begin an exhale, I instinctively interrupted her with a kiss that bordered on primal. After swirling our tongues together in an age-old tradition that felt as natural as anything else about our relationship, I pulled back hesitantly and smiled.
"I know you love me, whether I'm smoking or not. But nothing else compares to that," she said with a nod to her cigarette.
