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I was distraught. Of course, financially, I could go anywhere I wanted and I wouldn't have to work. It was the family part that made it impossible. My entire family, uncles, aunts, cousins, second and third cousins all lived in town. No matter where I went, even to work, I always had family around. It wasn't just comforting; it was part of me.

It was a tearful good-bye with Dr. Roman. A fucking, sucking, pussy eating tearful good-bye.

Like many people over a break-up, I was depressed for months and months. Some people eat or drink when they're depressed; others go into hibernation: not going out, not seeing any one.

Me?

I fucked. Any guy that even smiled at me, I fucked. Buy me a cheap beer: I'd take my clothes off, no problem.

Not just fucking. The six months after Dr. Roman left, I sucked more cock; swallowed more cum. Some guys, I'm not even sure I knew their names. My no blowjob on the first date rule seemed archaic.

Some mornings I'd show up for work and my colleagues would comment: "Mo, you look like shit this morning." In the mirror, in the ladies' room, I couldn't deny it. My make-up was a mess; it looked like I hadn't brushed my hair, and most embarrassing, my lips looked like they'd been sucking cock all night: true. I cleaned myself up as best as possible.

Through all this, the saving grace was Flanigan's Bar and Grill. It was in town and it was where most cops hung out after work. We could let our hair down. Patrick Flanigan was like my father. His family were all cops except for him. While my dad when into investments, Patrick opened a bar. Now his son ran it.

I'd go in there once or twice a week; have one or two beers and bullshit with my fellow officers. I never, and I mean never left with anyone and none of the guys suggested it. I never got hit on there. I liked that. I could just have a drink. Like all the other cops, I could let my guard down.

That's the way it was until Declan Flaherty showed up. He wasn't a cop. He talked like he was just off the boat from Dublin. He swept me off my feet. Even though I had all those one-night stands, Declan caught me on the rebound from Dr. Roman. I was vulnerable.

I told you that with all the money my dad left me, I could have had handsome Italian or Frenchmen whisper sweet nothings in my ear in languages I didn't understand. It was the same way with Declan's accent. It was so comforting; like Thanksgiving or Christmas with my family.

I left Flanigan's with him. Like I said, that was a first.

And speaking of Christmas: when I opened my present; that is got my hand inside his pants, I was holding the biggest, fattest cock I'd ever come in contact with.

Declan Flaherty was tall, very good looking, and he was twenty-eight-years-old. Of course, there was that Irish accent, and now there was what he had in his pants.

Remember my unbreakable rule about no blowjobs on the first date? A rule I broke that first morning with Dr. Roman?

I'd broken it numerous times after Dr. Roman left. Now, I broke it again. I just had to get to know that huge cock Declan had inside those boxers. When I had his pants off, "Declan, is this all for me?" I was salivating holding it in my hand and staring at it.

It was standing straight up; it was magnificent. Like I said, like nothing I'd ever seen or felt. Then it was in my mouth. We hadn't been in bed ten minutes. I still had my panties on. We'd met in Flanigan's less than two hours ago.

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