i've had many lovers as the years have went on. i don't really know whether this high sex drive was derived from the girl who use to touch me when i was barely old enough to spell my name or my father being as absent as the love i've never felt for myself. i'm only 16 i remind myself. slow down. but i keep looking for that one person who will bring me to life. who will make love to not only my naked body but my naked soul. so i keep looking but not with the right eyes. i look with the eyes of lust.

you always remember your first. not your second or third... your first. my first. first. his first name was four letters. well in the technical sense it was six. shortened to four. now i'm not going to share names.. at least not yet or maybe i'll change them. i'm kind of just rolling with the flow. but his name and the way it rolled off my tongue when he would assault my neck or other parts of my body, was always my favorite. it was a luscious rasp. he has these chocolate curls all over his head and that bad boy swag. every girls dream. he had juicy lips that dripped with honey when he'd command me to touch him and do only things that should happen between closed doors... rough hands from working in his dads car shop. this boy was raised wrong, his dad had no respect for women and he had no respect for his dad. his mom i don't know much about. we never really talked about her, but then again we never really talked about anything because our mouths were busy with something else.

he didn't love me. i mean i thought he did. but we all think that don't we? it's funny though because he had big blue eyes that i swear just pulled me in every time those long, dark lashes came together. his touch. his rough, large hands touched me everywhere . perverted every inch of my body and at the time this love i thought-no i swore i had was only just lust. lust. love... there's less than a fine line between the two.

he would play these mind games and i would let him, as if i was a brand new video game that he had just been waiting to get his hands on. but just like almost video games once he played me and finished, he should have left everything alone and never played me again... right? well he didn't. he played me over and over again like a broken record. he learned the all the ways of my body, like his favorite zombie map. how to get me to react. where to kiss for me to come undone as he whispered his dirty sins into my ear. now this story is going to jump every where. but this story is the story my life. every detail of the sexual affairs i've had. no fiction. i am giving you the truth because i've never been able to tell anyone else this.