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It has been three weeks since I flew the coop. I spent three days in a hotel and then moved into my present location. Did I do the right thing? I had no other choice. I could have killed one of the dogs. I enter the apartment and there are no dogs barking. There is quiet and peace. Except for the ceaseless roiling in my mind, there is tranquility. When I'm at the edge, I pop two milligrams of Xanax. One of the pleasures of this drug is its affect as you can feel it traveling through your body calming your nerves and eliminating your anxiety. I'm playing with fire, but a moment of peace is worth an uncertain future.
When I left the house, I lost my mind for several days. I was with four different prostitutes, but I couldn't ejaculate. I phoned a fellow I met through the internet four or five years ago. He specializes in blow jobs. He has a spectacular skill and he relieved me. I have been careless with prostitutes in the past and I did my best to utilize some common sense. One is not a prostitute. She has two young daughters and a steady boyfriend whom she describes as totally out of his mind. She visited me twice and I briefly stuck it in her. She has a pretty face and big tits, but she has a flabby stomach and I can't achieve a deep connection with her physically. I did manage to ejaculate the second time masturbating and this was worth the $100 effort.
The other three were fulltime streetwalkers who have been working the corners for years. I had been with two of them in the past. My first act of unfaithfulness occurred with a skinny tattooed gal who couldn't have been more than 30. The hotel where they congregate charges $20 an hour. She charged $40. I couldn't excite myself. I asked her if for $25 could I stick it in her without a condom. She said yes. Since this was the first time I was battling the odds, it was just talk to coax a boner out of me. I couldn't progress past the limp stage.
The other two were old battle axes. Forty dollars is the going rate, but I didn't want to pay the $20 hotel room. I was renting a car and convinced them to service me at my apartment. The first is slightly built but nearing 50. She would have been attractive in her youth, but she couldn't make me come. I suggested sticking it in her. I like to witness their reactions, but she issued a categorical no. The second is heaver with big tits. She placed a condom at the side of my mattress, but she became so hot that she excited me. I crawled on top and poked her, but I quickly withdrew. Paranoia had me by the balls.
A day later I called my buddy and he sucked me dry, but between my weak moments and the fact venereal disease can be transmitted orally I made my pilgrimage to Matamoros for my one-two punch of zithromax and flagyl. They have helped me weather the worst of my libidinous repercussions. They cure patients of chlamydia and trichomoniasis. Gonorrhea requires a shot, but the symptoms, pus dripping from your penis and a burning sensation when you urinate, appear within a matter of days. A man doesn't know he has the other two, but they infect the woman and she can't stand the odor and the itching. I'm counting on the antibiotics' historical potency. It's not a very pleasant existence when you are dependent on prostitutes and Xanax in order to go from day to day.
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