JESUS OF DOOM | Turning Fantasies into Demons in the Bedroom

Do you remember?

Do you remember the first time you saw the N*kedness of a man?

Or should I be asking how it felt like seeing the manhood of a perfect stranger that someway somehow you lived to believe you were in love with?

It really is a typical drastic kind of awkwardness, if you know what I am talking about.

Just like any other teenager, I had lived in my imaginations for as long as I could forget, and these were not mere imaginations like conquering the world and probably becoming the next ‘Oprah Winfrey.’

Hell no! I had a rather wild sense of imagination, like being the next well paid professional sex actress….

I seldom was attentive at any gathering, any gathering with a sinfully ‘hot bloke’ around… and all my raptness would be channeled into stripping him N*ked.

All I was waiting for was that perfect Adam to make my fantasies a passing reality and the waiting could have been forever had it not been the kindest gesture of the guy I grew to call “JESUS OF DOOM.”

Oh yeah, Jesus of doom because he turned my fantasies into demons that haunted the live out of me until they shoved me right to hell.

All I ever wanted was to make love or what sundry generally call sex. I was a teenager; my hormones screamed every now and then begging me to free them from the prison of my body.

I was being altruistic about the whole affair; everything I did was for my hormones.

It was one perfect evening and perfect was perfected with a man who was going to travel with me to the clouds and ultimately sneak a peek at the galaxy. Jesus of doom didn’t waste time N*ked-in’ himself, was he a hurricane, no one could have been able to bring him to records. I guess he was in a hurry to make me see what lay beneath and I was the wiling victim, oh yeah.

To say he chewed my lips would be like saying Michael Jackson was almost the king of pop. He devoured me like a lion that had been caged for all eternity without food; I knew there was no way I wanted to stain my sacred self so I prompted him to stop.

I wanted it to be as solemn as possible “we are just trying to make love not to win a battle… what is all this wildness about” I asked him.

He looked at me with this totally indescribable image of himself and drew closer; so close that I started hyperventilating.

This time it was everything I wanted; he nibbled on my lower lip until I could feel it burn with pain and pleasure.

In the darkness with soft music playing, he sought for my n*pples like one would search for their favorite dress in a pile. And upon finding it, he sucked all the milk in me; he sucked so hard yet so sweet that I feared my future babies were going to starve.

Then he started with that slow dancing around my insides; it felt like the kisses of tiny fishes…. If his hand could leave me dancing to the rhythm of nothing then his tongue would give me lyrics to a hit album.

I was a novice, a guest who did not want to watch the Captain steer the ship all by himself so I took charge and swallowed his manhood.

An amateur trying to prove herself worthy of next shag, I was burnt on satisfying my Captain that I could not stop myself from sucking on his manhood though I choked and my jaws wailed for mercy.

Whatever I was doing on him must have felt good because he moaned in ways that I never knew existed and my excitement went beyond someone who just won an Oscar.

In fact it edged me on into eating the tips of his p*nis whilst my fingers snuggled his balls.

It was more than I bargained for; Jesus of doom turned me to face him sighed a heavy breadth in my insides and tipped my clit*ris with his tongue.

And that was EVERYHING and more; he licked me bone dry before he finally penetrated which by the way was painful initially but as he thrust deep I forgot what pain was…

Together we hummed and hued; danced and sang and moved rhythmically…we were like Siamese twins in separate pregnancies.

My dents gnashed and my fist clenched as adrenaline moved hastily through my body; the climax was euphoric with shakings and vibrations and it was simultaneous.

Multiple orgasms actually, I saw the seventh heavens, the constellations and all that I never thought I would see in my imaginations.

After what seemed like a beautiful first-hand experience I hoped for a promising relationship with Jesus of doom, a relationship that could possibly lead to forever.

It was my delusional mind playing peek a boo with me; he would not pick my calls nor reply my messages. And the vacuum he left had me doing unthinkable things to myself; getting wet even before I could even think about him.

I was almost always h*rny like a pig on aphrodisiac which obviously led me into having s*x with men who never satisfied me anyways.

There never was another Jesus of doom and the only one who existed only existed in my head.