I was happy. Never imagined I could be happy that way again. I felt loved and was able to love without holding back. That is, before I got spooked with what I was able to read in her FB messenger.

Flirting. Playful banter with a guy I haven't met. She assured me and still continued to do so but I've already consumed and digested what I've seen in that messenger thread. She tells me, "don't worry Ok... nothing has happened" (yet).... And my mind tells me so pag nag kiss na sila, dun palang may problema. Nice. Ulul. She doesn't know yet that I've read through it when I was able to fix dead laptop.

It has happened before. The ending of that previous story is that my gf at the time apologetically admitted later on that she sucked her ex's cock while we were together. We were not really having big problems at the time, simply frustrations here and there. Cock sucking. Fuck that.

So how can I, in my fucked up over analytical mindset NOT be reacting this way. My ex used to tell me, no I'm never gonna cheat, baka ikaw. Goes on to suck cock.

"I'm not your ex, Ok?" She tells me. "Your ex is stupid for letting, for hurting you that way. You're the most wonderful guy I've ever met.... ". Yup. I agree with that statement. I strongly believe my ex thinks that too. A random sorry letter after not seeing each other not even once in four years kinda proves it. It didn't stop her from sucking that cock. It's those God damn moments eh. In the car, either kinda tipsy or a bit high where the "magic" happens.

So why am I fuckin' bitter as hell right now? I've always taken the moral high ground. I may not be perfect but I don't eat dripping wet pussy even if it were Ellen Adarna's WHILE I'm seeing someone. I'll dutifully cut ties with the girl I'm seeing and hopefully, that wet pussy is still available to eat when I've disconnected with that girl I'm seeing. That's IF I was dying to eat that other pussy.

Is it to hard to do that: if I just eat that pussy, keep it downlow, bury that image in the dark recesses of my soul and move on? To make a personal incident report : a self admitted mistake sprinkled with remorse and a promise to not do it again. Hopefully.

*Sigh* above statement is difficult for me to do. I tried everything around it. I did cut ties with girls so I can eat the next wet one. I've come to accept that - and for the fucking record - I'm not a douchebag. God forbid I become one.

So there - FML - fuck my motherfucking life. Hate to pack up and leave. What am I supposed to do? Seriously need answers. And I know, you in denial motherfuckin reader have experienced this or at least, have had or heard similar accounts. I don't want to be doing this over and over again. It's like being in edge of tomorrow but in real life. God fucking damn it.

PS. Ok, were not together - together, but like I said before, you can entertain other guys sure, but I will have to walk away.


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