I'm standing in front of the cashier in the pharmacy with a box of Postinor-2, along with Gentian Violet (Desta insisted I get it for my lip), along with two 'Red Stripe's.

How the fuck could you forget?

Oh, god, I've fucked up so bad. What if I have a child, and I never get my life back on track, and I have to work on backroad for the rest of my life, and my pussy becomes nothing but a specimen fit for a biohazard lab? Or, what if I get an abortion, and I'm never able to have children again? Or—

"Ezinma?" Desta's voice pulls me from my tortured thoughts.

I look up into his eyes, and he gives me a look of utter compassion. It soothes me. "I just need you to know that whatever you want to do, I'm behind you one hundred percent."

I nod, and I feel myself calm a bit. At least I have that to hold on to — his promise to stand by me no matter what.

Jeez, when you think of it that way... it almost sounds like a marriage vow.

No, Ezinma. Don't think of that right now.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks, with a curious look when he sees me reflecting.

"I was thinking about which car I should buy," I lie smoothly. I mean, I am considering buying a car, so its not that bad.

"Really? What type?"

"2008 Carolla."

He scowls, but refrains from commenting.

We are next in line, so I hurry to cash the items, which I already insisted on paying for.

I then insist on stopping at Island Grill for festival and fries.

There are many foods that will buy your way into my heart. Island Grill fries is one of them.

"Bomboclaaaaaaaat," I moan around a mouth full of fries.

"Fries... Shot... Sell off... "

I can't even make complete sentences.

"You're so dramatic," Desta says, with a smile in his voice as he pulls into my driveway.

"I love Island Grill fries."

"I can see that."

Once inside, I sigh sadly as I finish the fries, and decide to put up the festivals and beer for later. Then, I slink away to the bathroom. My hair is severely in need of a wash.

***

One thing that I have learned about Desta, is that he is one curious son of a bitch. When I'm not there, he goes into my bag and looks through my shit, fucks with my makeup, and looks through my phone — not my text messages, but to see what kind of porn I watch.

Still, it is an unpleasant surprise to open the glass door of your shower, and be greeted with this one word:

"Enema?"

No, he's not calling me 'Enema', and yes, I know exactly why he said that, with that fucking grin on his face that I'd love to claw off right now.

Because in the hands of a man who I did not know was in my bathroom — decided, "hey let me just walk the fuck in and look through her PERSONAL SHIT," — is a box that reads, "DELUXE SHOWER ENEMA".

How do I feel right now?

One word:

Mortified.

This is the most embarrassing thing ever. I've been with him for two fucking seconds, and he's found the hose I use to clean and prepare myself for anal sex. He's holding it in a box, in his hands. I mean that shit's personal. 

"I never knew people actually used these. I thought you just stuck it in."

Ew. I've never understood that. Once, I was pegging this guy who didn't clean out his ass, and shit ended up everywhere. It was on my fucking tits. How the fuck did shit get there? And my intense fear of faeces did not help the matter. 

"I have Coprophobia," I say, and then bite my tongue so hard — wanting to take back what I just said — that I taste metal in my mouth.

Stop talking. Shut up. Right now.

His smile broadens. "What's that?"

I shake my head violently, and wisely, he leaves it alone.

"I wanna see how much of a freak you really are." He hands the box to me, and I can feel the weight of the hose.

"I'll give you half an hour to prepare yourself, and then l want you naked and in the bedroom."

Huh. Now, I'm mortified and turned on, I think to myself as he exits the bathroom, taking note of the ache in my loins. This boy is fucking with my head.

***

I did exactly what Desta asked, and now, facing the bed, naked, alone in the room — I don't know where the hell he is — I'm looking at the toys I bought that day in Intimate Occasions neatly lined up. I don't even know how he found them, and frankly, I don't care.

I hear him enter the room, and look up to see him naked and erect... with no barbel in, a condom on, and a bottle of baby oil in his right hand.

He says nothing, just walks over to the bed, and picks up the toys. His hands are wet, as if he's just washed them.

"Safeword?"

"Russet. Always russet."

I hear him sigh a sigh of contentment at this, but when he speaks again, he's back to the dominant Desta. 

"Get on your hands and knees on the bed." I register a faint buzzing in the background. As soon as I follow his command, he slips the Jackrabbit into me, and it's already turned on. I scream, not expecting it. I cream around the vibrating toy, and the extra vibrations that it gives to my clit causes me to almost climax when it is slipped in.

"Rest your front down, arms behind your back," he says, casually, as if nothing just transpired. When I do, he cuffs me, and lubes my asshole with baby oil. I flinch, which earns me a smack on each cheek, causing me to cream, and coo. 

I'm a moaning, shuddering mess, on the verge of climax, and just when I start to get used to the sensations, he starts to push the anal beads in.

Fuck.

Then, he starts moving the Jackrabbit, and I break. 

In the middle of my orgasm, he pulls out the beads and slides into me, causing me to climax anew. And I he keeps going, bringing me to orgasm over and over again, until I can't take it anymore.

"One more," he begs.

"I can't," I sob.

"Just one more, and then were done."

And then my tired, aching body orgasms once more at the same time that he blows his load, and I sag into the sheets, face forward, exhausted, vaguely aware that he is removing the toys and repositioning my body before sleep pulls me under.

***

When I wake up, I notice that Desta isn't in the bed beside me. I sit up and stretch my aching muscles, and scan the room for any clue of him. Then, I hear it... the shower running.

I smirk to myself, and slide out of bed, heading to the bathroom. He's gone down on me so many times. Time to repay the favour.

I crack the bathroom door, and he doesn't notice me; he's singing "For Your Entertainment" by Adam Lambert. He has a sexy voice, and I'm getting wet. I'm getting side tracked.

Keep it together, Ezinma.

I march over to the shower and tank it open. He turns to me and smiles. 

"Come for some fun?"

I smile back.

"Yes, actually." 

I look down, and see that he's put back his barbel. I point at it.

"Take it out. I'm gonna suck your dick."

He raises his eyebrows in surprise, but quickly recovers himself and grins wickedly. "Really, now," he says as he unscrews and removes the barbel, and steps outside to place it in a special container for it.

I follow him outside the shower, not caring about us wetting up the bathroom, and as soon as he turns, I fall to my knees and swallow his already hard dick.

"Fuuuuuck," he moans in surprise and pleasure.

I pull back, lick the head, and push him to the back of my throat until I gag, until my eyes begin to water. I roll my tongue up and down the underside of his penis, and feel precum dribbling down my throat, so I pull back to taste it on my tongue.

It tastes of sweet and masculinity and him.

But when I deepthroat, and run my tongue along a vein as I pull back... he goes savage. He starts to straight up fuck my face, roughly hitting the back of my throat over and over again. 

The only warning I get before he actually pops is the pained grunt that escapes his lips. Then, he's filling up my throat and mouth with semen, until it runs down the corners of my mouth, despite me swallowing as much as I could.

He's panting, staring down at me in awe, while I smile evenly back.

"I finally know what it's like to have you come in my mouth."