Darkroom

Wrong Number, Right Victim

Last night I received a wrong-numbered phone call.

Not allowing this opportunity go to waste, I engaged in an impromptu phone sex seduction.

Four hours later, I realized that I had been the victim of orgasm vampirism.

After the 11th ejaculation, I turned my nightstand light on, looked down, and noticed how raw and inflamed my turtle neck flesh was.

I hurriedly ended the marathonian call, something that was a lot easier said than done, as she denied my attempts to disengage from her psychological clutch.

Let this be a lesson to you who are weak of will: there are those among us who feed from our vices.

Thus spoke The Dragon Master.