You looked big and awkward in my hand. Anyway, there I was, perched in that sultry cross-legged angle with you inside my mouth. I blew you, and I was amazed by the way your flavor touched my tongue and my throat, the way you grew warmer and warmer as I went on, sipping you, sucking you, getting all of you. And as per usual with this kind of tryst, we finished with you all drained out of juice, while nothing really came out of me.
That’s the problem with you. You’re a robot’s dong. You’re hard and huge and all that, but you had no fucking sensuality, no romance, no drama, no cure for the wet smoker that I was. Maybe this was a mistake. I did this because you were cleaner, more professional, more socially acceptable. Marlboro – he was a bad bad boy, and for sure it seemed like it’s him and me against the world because there were times I had to take him far from the eyes of the world, but he was real, and he was a better lover. He bent when I would bite him with that lust to breathe him in and he laughed out this fire and smoke he only could make. I thought about that and… if you’re this woman that I am, who would you choose? I loved Marlboro because I loved him. There was a passion, a drive, a madness. Marlboro talked dirty. Also, he didn’t mind when my lipstick marked him forever, or when my teeth gave him scars. He kept souvenirs like that. Sensitive, sentimental, sexy. Dangerous, at best. And I liked that, because ain’t love risque and risk, peek and peak and pique? What’s loving a man but a habit that sometimes hurt?
I felt like a hypocrite when no matter how much I try to build you up according to my preferences, you’re still not it. Marlboro had his own musky scent and I longed for him in that manner, while, well, look at you, you’re all masked with your various fragrances but that’s simply not you. Believe me, I tried, like what good girls ought to do.
Sometimes I wondered if I only must to learn to love you, Vape, because by all standards you were supposed to be the right one. But I couldn’t feel you, and I’m sorry. Anyway, I’ll stop crossing my legs. I do not need this to turn you on.
Vivien Marie Lopez
(A Vape Review)
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