Sex Is A Drug, Drugs Are My Sex

Some people get high off pharmaceutical chemicals, some people get a high off purchasing large amounts of Gucci bags and Calvin Klein underwear.. Me? I get high off of getting pussy.

My drug of choice is the vagina, I’m addicted to the labia.

Popping off inside the warm confines of the vagine is my opioid, my heroin. It helps me forget about all my pain and woes.

When the sugar walls clamp on my moderately thick male member it’s as if I just took a big hit of some bomb ass kush. It makes me feel alive. When she rides me with conviction, I feel divine. When I see her raven black hair, her mischievous smile, I find peace. When I take a whiff and the smell of her lust reches my lungs, I don’t wanna die. Goddamn, I don’t want the high to ever stop. Fuck.

But the problem with all drugs is eventually you get hooked. Like a narcotic Wall St. broker looking to get his next fix of the booger sugar, all I can think about is when will I get my next dose and how.

To quote King Push:
“24/7, 365, pussy stays on my mind”

You’re my drug. Pale or tanned. Blonde or brunette. Busty or flat. I just wanna mate. Let me get you drunk and let’s get lost in a sea full of pubis. Make me come alive (innuendo intended).

And if I can’t get it then cannabis and benzos are pretty tight too. If only intercourse helped me sleep or digest food better though.

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