Addict - Chapter 1
Date: 11/5/2017, Categories: Masturbation, Author: clonjon, Source: LushStories
Let me start by saying that I don’t know what I was more addicted to, the drugs or getting them. I often wonder how someone like me could end up in the situation that I found myself in, but as with all addicts, at the end of the day it doesn’t matter. At 35 years old I am very good looking. My ex-husband got me fake tits years ago and they are the perfect size for my frame. After the divorce I lost 20 pounds, cut my hair very short and dyed it blonde. I have been told on many occasions that I am a "knock out". I will not say my looks didn’t help, but having a PhD in Biology, I was able to get a job making more money than most people, and I actually enjoyed the work. I was working on a drug to cure a certain type of cancer, not only was the job relatively easy, the hours were nice and I actually enjoyed what I was doing. I don’t remember why I popped that first pill, probably out of curiosity, but once it set in I had never felt that way before. My body was so relaxed, as if I didn’t have a care in the world. But my mind was as focused as it had ever been. My logical side’s first thought was how I didn’t know about this drug, I was a doctor after all. The other side of me knew this was the greatest feeling in the world. The next morning I woke up and didn’t have any side effects of taking the pill, all I knew was that I felt so good last night that I wanted to do it again. Over the next couple of weeks I purposely hung out with the same guy that had originally given me the ... pill and each time he was more than willing to supply me with more, free of cost, I knew my looks had something to do with it. I won’t bore you with how I ended up finding a dealer that could supply me with the pills, I will just say that parked in front of a plain, nondescript house, in the middle of the suburbs to buy drugs for the first time in my life, was the most nervous I had ever been. I had never bought drugs in my life, not as a teenager, not in college, not even a bag of weed, and now here I was walking up to the front door of a drug dealer’s house and my palms were sweating. Before I knocked on the door I panicked, and realized I was still in my work clothes, slacks and a dress shirt, definitely not what your normal drug buying person would be dressed in. But it was too late now to turn back. I had already talked to the guy, and he was expecting me, so I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. I waited five seconds and in my mind had decided he wasn’t home and was about to turn around and head back to the car, when I heard the door being unlocked, and in that split second realized this was actually going to happen. The door opened, and while I had never meant a drug dealer before, this guy seemed to be the perfect description of what a TV character would be based on. He was white, in his late twenties, dressed in a pair of old jeans with a t-shirt on. His hair was disheveled, but I think he actually wanted it to look the way it did. As I looked over him, he did ...