Chameleon On a Kaleidoscope (The Oxygen Thief Diaries) by Anonymous

Author:Anonymous
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: alcoholism, social media, cult, advertising, culture, aa, mad men, copywriter, sexaddiction, onlinedating
Publisher: Anonymous

REBECCA

Rebecca’s profile picture showed her straining against the confines of a skin-tight mini-dress in mid-Tango. The faceless silhouetted male with whom she danced was obviously for presentation purposes only. Look at my scorching hot body. This was how she wanted to be seen on a dating site. In her other picture, a close-up, she looked like the aging mother of the girl on the dance-floor.

Following her father’s nervous breakdown Rebecca was sent to live with her uncle (his brother) and aunt in Germany. He would be her first sexual experience when he made her come with his fingers. She was fifteen.

“So he abused you?’

“Yes I suppose so, but he didn’t go all the way”

I was reminded of how I had defended Father Eddy, because in defending him I could convince myself I had actually wanted my balls fondled by a priest. It was sad to think of all that sexuality locked up inside the conservative life of an English teacher in Amsterdam. She looked like she was holding her breath permanently. But after one kiss Agatha Christie became Julie Christie and yes she had the accent to match. You need six hundred years of British oppression stored away in your DNA to appreciate the satisfaction of thrusting your undeserving Irish cock into a mouth that has just finished saying; “Darling, I’ve been frightfully busy today.”

Fucking her took on political status.

“This is for The Famine…this is for Bloody Sunday….now turn over…this is for Maggie Thatcher…and this? This is for Princess Dian-aaaaaaggggh.”

.On rain-soaked Mondays, which in the Netherlands, were indistinguishable from every other day, she cheered herself up by appearing in front of her class wearing a light grey one-piece boiler suit that showed off her lithe body to full effect. When she turned to write on the chalkboard the class fell silent. For most teachers it was the other way round. It was an honor, she said, to be part of their sexual awakening. She intentionally made spelling mistakes knowing full well that she would first need to bend and reach for the eraser before shaking herself vigorously as she scrubbed it away. She delighted in the idea of these boys pummelling themselves at home under the blankets with the image of her superb ass coaxing them out of puberty.

And she loved to suck me off. It was the first thing she’d do. I began to suspect that her uncle had taught her well. The moment before she reached orgasm she would look at me like she’d just been grossly insulted. As if in the middle of fucking her I’d said;“Rebecca, you are a sad-faced English bitch who I’m only fucking as a favor.” She looked for that moment like she was being overtaken not by ecstasy but a shuddering exhalation of abhorrence. As if all the platitudes and denials burned away and there beyond the mist for just for a moment before being engulfed again was the truth.

A Mick was fucking her

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