Chapter 33

Not every story’s a winner, and this time I’m gonna tell you about this girl I met who was a devout Christian! Yeah, a real believer! But can a dyke be devout? Sure she can, I know a few, but come on, friend, let’s be real? A pious dyke doesn’t really work, right? The church hates gays! So it all started like this…

A mutual friend told me about this girl he’d met. In short, they were at a bar getting wasted, and when he hit on her, the chick shot him down and apparently to justify it, she said she liked girls but had issues with that ‘cause she was devout. She said she’d hooked up with girls before but avoided it ‘cause it made her feel bad about it. I don’t like that type of person ‘cause they’re always tough to deal with. I’m not a psychologist and I don’t wanna have to interact with messed-up people. When he told me about the girl, I said no right away, but then he showed me her pic and I jumped up praising the Lord! The woman was a knockout. Beautiful, fair-skinned with dark brown hair, slim with curves, and totally Instagram-worthy in my bed!

I added her and we started chatting casually. That bastard told her I was devout too. Fine, I’m Catholic and was raised going to mass, but if the priest knew how many folks from his flock I’d led to the valley of sin… I haven’t set foot in church since I grew up. I hate church!

She set up a meet for Saturday! Great, I said right away… But it was after service at one of those modern churches she was visiting for the first time! So our date was at service, then we’d go somewhere else. I agreed on the spot and planned to bail later, but as we chatted more, I saw she was a cool chick and I got really interested in meeting her. With me, she never talked about hooking up with women or anything like that, but I knew she was one of those sneaky types. Oops, I’m drunk! Gotta eat your pussy!

I met her at the service. She looked stunning in a dress and a little cardigan, like a good girl in a proper floral dress with her hair tied back. In her hands, a huge Bible and a little cross necklace. “Holy shit, I think I’ve got a new fetish for devout girls,” I thought to myself.

The perfume she wore was delicious — what a fragrant woman! Anyway! We went into the church and watched the service. As usual, even though the sermon wasn’t about it, the pastor said Jesus loves the queers but they’re going to hell anyway. When the service ended, I suggested we grab some food and knock back some beers. I swear, even though I wanted to, I figured nothing more than some kisses would happen. I’d shaved smooth just in case and was prepared. But then I heard it.

“Another day, I was thinking we could go to my place!” the angel in front of me said!

I said I’d be down, of course! And we got in her car. On the way, she pulled over on this weird street. I swear I was scared to death when she got out to talk to some sketchy kids — it looked like she bought something from them. It was drugs; the little devil smokes a joint! I don’t like it but whatever!

“I got a little something for us,” she said, getting back in the car all embarrassed!

Everything was already going wrong. The bitch drags me to church and then to a drug spot. But fine! We could still salvage this hangout! We got to her place in a fancy neighborhood in Rio de Janeiro. It was a condo of old but high-end houses — whoever lives there ain’t broke like me. Inside the house, the decor was old-school, like old money family stuff. I kept my hands to myself so I wouldn’t break anything.

She offered me a beer and we chatted. Around the second one, I started steering the conversation that way. She laughed, played dumb, talked about Jesus… “Girl, are you a dyke or not?” I thought, trying not to show my anger. She dodged as best she could, but she was downing her beer at an impressive speed. By the fourth can, she said she had a vice and liked using something to relax, and invited me to join. It was coke — the wench was a cokehead! “This woman’s gonna OD here and I’ll end up in jail accused of giving her drugs!” I was scared and said that shit would ruin me and she could do whatever. The girl in the purity dress wasn’t sitting prim and proper anymore; she was buzzed from the booze and now snorted almost a whole line of cocaine right in front of me. I was about to call an Uber when she, totally wired, said:

“I think I have a really bad spirit inside me that sometimes gives me this fire…” she said, coming toward me.

“Baby, I know how to cast out demons with a pussy beating,” I thought. And I pounced on her, planting the wettest kiss I had. And she kissed well. We started the foreplay over our clothes, hands going crazy over each other’s bodies, kisses on necks and hickeys — the thing was getting truly hot! Then I hear a sob — the damn woman starts crying out of nowhere! “I can’t believe this; am I gonna go home all worked up for nothing?” I made an angry face; I was pissed. But since I’m a sucker, I hugged her to console her.

She wouldn’t stop babbling while crying. I just listened and thought of a way to leave. Until she kicked off her sandals — I didn’t pay attention to that — but then she reached both hands behind her back to unzip the dress. “She’s probably just loosening the dress or taking off her bra…” I thought. But the woman unzipped the dress and took off her bra; the open dress with straps down didn’t hold up her tits and left them casually on display. They were perfect, like teenage tits — firm and perky.

“You wanna stay with me tonight? Sleep over!” the crybaby said.

“I don’t know, you should rest — why don’t you take a shower?” I said.

I don’t know if she took my suggestion ‘cause she stripped down and stood there in front of me in her modest beige panties like we were besties. “God forgives” I thought, and pounced on her again, kissing the girl. I hit her with a move that’s half jiu-jitsu, half Kama Sutra — hand on tit, tit in mouth, and the rest on her pussy! I cracked an eye to check her reaction and she was moaning. Her body was toned, everything in place — what smooth skin, her tit now confirmed by feel was firm. Her ass was like a rock, and she was hot. The girl reacted to my touches and her hands started caressing me and trying to rip off my clothes. I started getting pulled toward some room and when we got there, I realized it was her bedroom. Barely inside, she yanked off her panties and lay down with legs spread. The girl was laser-smooth depilated without a single flaw, like a plastic doll, and I dove in to eat her out. And for another disaster of the night, the bitch stank of piss. Seriously, she must’ve had some incontinence or something; she didn’t seem like a dirty chick, but her pussy straight-up smelled like she’d pissed herself.

She noticed I didn’t wanna go down on her and asked to go to the bathroom. While she was in there, I checked myself out and as always, even soaked in devil’s sweat, Momma stays fresh! I was still in my panties and bra. “I’m not taking off my clothes ‘cause if she backs out, I don’t wanna look rejected.” That was my plan, so I sat at the head of the bed and fiddled with my phone.

She came back possessed by a demon and smelling like soap! “Thank God!” Completely naked, she sat on my thigh and started grinding on me — seriously, it felt good, but with that force, it was hurting me. I toughed it out ‘cause she was moaning so loud it seemed like she was about to cum. I wasn’t enjoying being there anymore, but I saw where it would go.

“Wanna eat me?” I asked, pulling off my panties.

She didn’t hear or pretended not to. She climbed on me and started kissing my tits before I could take off my bra, like a fifteen-year-old boy who’d never seen boobs. She sucked so hard I think I lactated right then. Fuck, what a shitty suck. The damn thing bit my nipple and even when I yelled: Ow! She’d switch to something else; she squeezed my tit like a mammogram. I was trying to process it and change activities when she shoved her hand in my panties and jammed two fingers inside me. Her fake nail carved a path through my flesh and it tore me up — I moaned in pain. I told her to go slow and she started pounding her finger with the fake nail into my pussy.

“Babe… Honey… Stop a sec…” She wouldn’t stop…

“Stop, fuck!” I yelled!

“Girl, have you ever eaten pussy in your life?” I asked, totally furious.

The bitch started crying. I didn’t care; I started getting dressed to leave. There was a tissue on the headboard that I used to wipe and there was blood on it.

“Look what you did!” I said, showing her the tissue as I threw it at her. I just got dressed while she cried and left.

At home, I took a shower and grabbed a mirror to see what happened. On the way back, I felt something cutting inside me. I stuck a finger in to touch where it hurt and guess what! There was a fake nail inside my damn pussy.

The devout chick even told my friend, without many details, that she didn’t think I was a nice person. Dirty junkie bitch. I blocked her and didn’t even read the long-ass text she sent me the next day.