I feel like I might be in love with Jeff. He makes me feel like I matter and takes care of me, without asking for much in return.
I know I don’t have much to compare it to, but he is an amazing lover. I can’t imagine that anyone could possibly be better. I have been with him for almost three months now, and every night is something different.
At first, I was really concerned that he was going to get me pregnant. I mean, he wasn’t using any protection, and we were sleeping together daily. He told me that if I got pregnant, it wouldn’t be his. He had been in some sort of accident when he was younger that means he can’t have children.
I think that’s kind of sad, but I guess it’s for the best. I don’t feel like I’m old enough to have kids, and I really don’t think that drugs and kids go together. It’s one thing we don’t have to worry about. So in a way, I’m thankful.
We don’t always use drugs while we make love, but it’s best when we do. A chemical high and an emotional high mixed together is mind blowing. My orgasm is more intense and longer lasting, and I feel like I want to keep going forever.
Jeff has a rule with drugs. He doesn’t do what he deals, and that’s ecstasy tablets. He also never deals out of his house. His supplier gives him eckies to sell, and coke for his own recreational use. He gets his pot from Ron, which is a great way to come down if we’ve had a bit too much coke.
I always enjoy the pot runs, because I can visit with Tahlia, who is amazed that Jeff and I are still together. I haven’t said anything to her out loud about how I’m feeling towards him. But hearing her say those things makes me very happy.
To try to earn my keep, I’ve been helping Jeff sell. He says that because I’m young, and a girl, that I’m not going to get questioned as much as he would be approaching groups of young people.
I have to admit that it does look pretty suss, having an almost thirty-year-old man hang around a group of youths and hand them things. Even when it’s done as a hug or a handshake, it’s still really obvious.
But with me, it’s easy. There are certain places where local bands play all age gigs regularly, as well as the local rave circuit, and a chain of nightclubs with bouncers on Jeff’s payroll. On top of that we have regulars who call up asking for a drop off. Most of the time supply doesn’t meet demand.
Tonight we’re in a night club and Jeff is sitting on a stool up against a mirrored wall with a small ledge running the length of it that you put your drinks on. He’s holding a JD and coke, but he’s not drinking. He only buys it for show. What he’s doing is watching me to make sure I’m safe as I move through the crowd, collecting money and distributing pills.
People know me now. They're happy to see me and greet me like a long-lost friend.
Most nights, I sell everything I have, but tonight I’m left with quite a stash of Es.
“What’s going on?” he demands, as I return to him after doing yet another lap of the crowd.
“I don’t know. No one’s buying. Maybe they’re on something else?” I suggest.
“No. Someone else is here selling.” He stands up straight and scans the crowd. His eyes narrowed as he looks for who could possibly be selling on his turf.