He never shuts up. Except for when I go down on him, and the only thing escaping his lips are moans. I guess, he’s hot. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here, pressing my lips against the wine glass as I take a sip, and listen to him talk about work and buying a flat one day. Most of his words pass my ears, not even registering. I don’t care that much, really.

Maybe I turn into a different person with some alcohol in my blood. Especially, my drink of choice — red wine. Suddenly, the world seems limitless. Anything is possible. Buying concert tickets? Why not! Planning travels to a foreign land? Sign me up! Wrapping my lips around his cock? Sounds like a damn good idea to me.

The day after, I’m unable to stop thinking about it. I mean… He is not even that special. Not special at all. Yet, I go back in time to relive that moment again and again. Maybe it’s a bit about the power for me. Knowing he’s at my mercy, and that I’m damn good at what I do. Men always compliment my blowjob skills. Of course, they do. I suck dick enthusiastically, seemingly always knowing what to do, how to press my tongue against the shaft, how hard to suck to make them cum in no time. Maybe I’m not so worthless after all. Hey, mum and dad, I’m good at something! Ironically, it’s giving head.

I wonder if I will see him again. Do I want to? I’m not sure. I like sex, but then again, the last and only time we fucked, he wasn’t that good. He wasn’t bad, but my mind wasn’t blown. Something was missing. I mean, I’m not a size queen, but it could have been bigger. Longer, more specifically. At least I don’t have to gag as I deepthroat him. This job has really been made easy for me. Barely any tears roll down my cheeks as he pushes my head down, following an even rhythm. He’s about to cum. Mission nearly accomplished. It doesn’t take long to feel his hot, slightly bitter cum down my throat.

I suck every last drop of it, making sure I haven’t made a mess. I guess, I always swallow. It just feels like the right thing to do, and I don’t even think twice. I’m a good girl. That’s what most of them say. As if being good at sex makes me a good girl overall. But I’ll take it.