High Fantasies

I tightened the vice around my bruised arm with an unsteady touch. I slowly lifted the full syringe to my veins and my mind filled with a thousand thoughts. My body craved this lethal poison, but my mind gave me reason upon reason to stop and walk away.

Once again, I was overcome by the lust of my flesh and I let the passioned poison seep through my veins and tear through my flesh. Every inch of my being anticipated the sensation, the smell, and seduction of this encounter while I mind fucked myself. They say it's never as good as the first time.

I needed more and more to satisfy my habit, to quench the thirst that seemed to be fueled by the fire between my thighs. It was never enough, not anymore, and I found myself slipping into the shadows of my own fantasies.

She could never give me what I wanted, or what I truly needed. My body told me different. I flooded my thoughts with explosions of ecstasy as my body writhed in pain.

I faked my own high.

I laid there panting heavily, desperately grasping for the air of clarity to fill my lungs and renew my soul. Instead, I laid there, paralyzed by the inhalation of vile smoke.

I quivered at her sight.

She was my addiction.