Today I hung out with Peyton. The sixteen year old from my most recent journal entry. From how we’ve been talking to each other, one would assume that we were dating. I guess technically, in his eyes, we are. But do I feel the same way? Even after hanging with him today, I still don’t know.
He came to the mall, and we walked around, held hands, sat in the arcade and made out for a little bit. I felt so awkward doing it though. It’s not just because of his age. I just felt uncomfortable. Like, I had just met this person. Usually it wouldn’t bother me. But I have no idea how to talk to him. Like, our personalities couldn’t be any more different from each other.
We went to his vehicle, he pulled forward his back seats so we could get into the trunk area, and I sucked his dick. And it was pretty good. Lucky for me, he knows how to cum fast, unlike the other guys I fool around with. He’s so dominant too, holding my head down and practically fucking my throat. It’s uncomfortable in a way, especially since we were in the back of his car, but it turned me on nonetheless. After he blew his load (which didn’t taste too bad), we parted ways. He said he needed to get home before a certain time.
I couldn’t help but think that maybe he was just using that as an excuse to get away from me. Maybe I disappointed him because I wasn’t ready to be fucked yet. Or because I have way too much anxiety, more than he could handle.
I really don’t think I’m ready to be in an actual relationship. I think about sex more than I do romance. Peyton’s such a sweet guy and all, but all I really wanted to do was suck his dick. I could have gotten a blowjob in return but he never offered and I was too scared to ask. You’d think after a body count total of ten, I’d be used to this.
Anyway, Peyton’s number eleven. ELEVEN. That’s eleven guys since 2014. Man, I really am a slut.
This journal has devolved into nothing more than a long-winded rant about the countless guys whose dicks I suck. I really hope it’s not all I write about, but then again I don’t think there’s really anything else that I need to write down.
I wish I had a more exciting life.