I laid in bed for hours after that intense day. I looked up at the ceiling and went over what had happened over and over, remembering the last words that Myles had said to me.
“Let me know if you ever want some more. Or better yet, have a taste of your own.”
I couldn’t get my mind off of his mouth, his technique, and how eager he was. There was something so wrong with everything that had happened. I knew I wasn’t gay, I just knew it. I couldn’t be. I had been with so many women in my life, I had had a handful of serious girlfriends and dozens of flings and one night stands that were incredible. Tall, leggy blondes with pouty lips and a massive chest, petite brunettes with perky tits, pale redheads with curves, I had had them all. But, as I went over all my sexual encounters in my mind, I realized something disturbing. None of them sucked cock like Myles did.