My Addiction_(1)

I sat in the group looking around as I prepared myself to tell my experience. Three months pregnant and two months clean. I was a soccer mom addict. Hooked on prescription pain killers I was willing to do almost anything to get my fix. Thus I was here, in front of a group of near strangers telling them things my husband didn’t know.
I was 38 when it began. Mother of three kids, the oldest was 16 and the youngest was 8. I had just had carpal tunnel surgery and a bottle of oxycodone to manage the pain. I didn’t think I had an addictive personality, but apparently I did. The pain was gone, but I still lied to my doctor and managed two more refills. When he didn’t give me a third I had to look somewhere else.

I found a dealer, Brad, my 13 year old son’s little league coach. Actually assistant coach, he was the actual coach’s 19 year old son. He started me with marijuana, mostly because it was the easiest for him to get. It was OK, but did not give me the same fix that the prescription meds gave me. He knew a guy, and next thing I know I have my supply of painkillers. They weren’t street drugs so they must be alright I told myself.

This went on about a month. Everyone was happy, kind of. I mean I was doped up on painkillers, but who was it hurting? Everything changed one day during a tournament my son was in. I excused myself as I often did between games to use the restroom. Actually I was meeting Brad behind in the equipment shed to get another bottle.

“Price has gone up” Brad flatly tells me as the sounds of the crowd filters through the uninsulated walls.

“How much?” I reply. I was ready and able to pay.

He laughs, “I don’t think you want to pay it. Too much suburban soccer mom in ya.”

He was right, I was a picture perfect soccer mom. Loose khaki shorts with a conservative v-neck cotton blouse covered a fit body that was showing the slight pudge and changed shape of age and motherhood. Light blue eyes and dirty blond hair tied back in a ponytail completed the look.

“Just what is the price.” I was trying to be nonchalant but inside was craving a pill.

“Just the usual, plus I need to see your tits.” My look of shock must have encouraged him to elaborate. “I have been staring at your rack since your kid started on the team. Let’s see em.”

Many thoughts ran through my head, would anyone know, was there any other way. The strongest thought was I needed a pill.

“I’m waiting.” He goaded.

I gave in. I pulled my shirt and bra up giving him a glimpse of my c cups. “Happy?” I asked as I put myself back together.

“Really?” he asked sarcastically, “you can’t do it.” He started to walk to the door.

“Wait, wait, whatever you want.” My addiction was showing, I needed the pills. I pulled my shirt completely off and my bra with it. “Better?”

Brad grinned looking at my bare chest. “Almost.” He steps near me groping my tits and teasing my nipples. I glance at the door as he feels me up. “One more thing,” he whispers before giving me a light kiss on the lips, “I need a blowjob.”

I was frozen. Brad stepped back and unzipped the zipper of his shorts. The cock he pulled out was intimidating. Not fully hard yet it was already seven and a half inches long, and thick. Numb, I dropped to my knees.

“Good girl,” he whispered as he fed his cock in my mouth. My jaw was stretched as his cock got harder in my mouth. I gagged as he pushed into the back of my throat, but he didn’t ease up.