Jan 132015

Alice tried to remember who gave her the key, and shrugged. If the man who assaulted her didn’t leave it on her, then she was completely clueless. What bent Ali was the obvious question. How could the guy have left a key in her boot during the onslaught? She was shaken up from the attack, but she wasn’t amnesic. She knew she didn’t have the key before the big redhead fucking blitzkrieg’ed her in the alley.

“No Sir, not with any degree of certainty. It would just be speculation at this point. I was in plain clothes, so I don’t think he knew I was a cop.” she said.

She tossed the few pages the officer brought to the end of the hospital bed. Each yellow page had pictures of men in line-ups. Something to jog the memory.

“So no one sparks, anything, ehh?” He asked, deflated.

Ali shook her head. “And no offense Cap, but those six packs need a re-issue. One of those guys works narcotics vice out of Brooklyn.” Ali eyed the officer. So did the Captain. The officer dipped in on thin ice and scrambled up the papers on the bed. He stepped back, out of sight and hopefully out of mind during the conversation.

A shopkeeper happened to lock-up early. He passed by. He called the police. When the call came in with her ID, it alerted a few people she’d rather not involve.

She looked worse than she felt, but that was adrenalin and whatever pain medicine was pumping through the tube in her arm. EMT’s cleaned and patched up her face. He turned her to the wall. His fist pulled her hair back, roughly. She was eyes to the heaven’s and jaw to the brick. He licked her throat. Told her that she smelled good. She left that part out. She couldn’t do anything about her face, his bite, and that damn key.

“Well, no worries. Special victims will be here soon. We’ll get that bite flushed and hopefully get a hit on this bastard. You just take it easy. Take some time off. I’m not asking, either.” The Captain nodded. He looked over to a chair, off to the side, occupied by Ali’s partner, to back him up.

For the first time, Alex spoke up. “Hey Cap, no reason to kick this up to SVU. Can’t we handle this guy in house? I mean… she’s one of our own…”

Alex talked with his hands, his tone and demeanor gave him a style all his own. He had special touch in sticky situations. And he was good at fucking you over while he shook your hand.

The Captain listened to Alex, then immediately adopted the idea.

“Well, if you want a job done the right way, gotta do it yourself. And nobody does it better than us.” The Captain gave Alex a hard, militant nod. He offered Ali a bit more solace and headed out with his officer in tow.

Ali glanced over to Alex, “get that key.” She winced, pulling out her IV.

Alex gave Ali his coat. They spoke softly as he guided her through their hospital breakout. She was looking at the key. A skeleton key tied to a small, aged piece of red leather by a thread of suede.

Ali was so confused. She turned it over and over in her hands. Even smelling it gave her no clue as to it’s origins. They made it out and into Alex’s car, avoiding any poking and prodding from hospital staff and questions from fellow detectives.

Once they were in the car, the conversation changed.

“Is there any chance this has something to do with your….. yanno?” Alex had a hard time forming the question.

Ali sighed.

“No, Alex. Jesus. I just joined the site. Besides, it’s supposed to be very …” Ali dropped off.

“Very what? Kinky is one thing, but guys attacking you in an alley”

“Who said that it’s related?!”

“You said this group is ‘different,’ how so?” Alex asked, defiantly.

“I just heard that it was…. I don’t know. Rougher. Not like normal …groups,” Ali exhaled the words.

“This is bullshit. Partners for five years and you can’t tell me?”

“If I knew, Alex, I’d tell you. I really don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into here…. Can you just take me home?” Ali asked.

They drove in silence. Alex offered to walk her up to her apartment, but she insisted he head home. It was late. She buzzed in and opened her mailbox before heading up the two flights to her apartment. There was a note stuck to her front door.

“You have the key to my heart.




See who else is being Wicked this Wednesday.




Jan 062015

“In a way, both of you are lucky that it was me who caught you. At least this way the entire office doesn’t know,” said Mr. Griggs.

Janice and Elliot had been seeing each other secretly for months. Keeping the secret amongst their co-workers was a game they both played. They edged, fucking in the bathroom, fingering her while everyone was gone for lunch, and the blowjob in the car. They didn’t see Grigg’s car. It was in the shop. He was taking a taxi home. How were they to know he would walk past them in the parking lot?

Janice and Elliot both stood in his office, like two school children who’d been caught with their arms in the ice cream cooler. Griggs sat on the edge of his desk, his big, hairy arms crossed over his wide chest. He shook his head.

“This is the first time this has ever happened here. I’m still a little mind-blown,” said Griggs.

His thick fingers ran through his comb-over and he slid away from his desk to walk aimlessly around his office. His wheels were spinning.

“We can’t just let activities like that go on around here, yanno?” Griggs said.

He stomped around and shook his finger. He ranted about how office relationships were bad for business.

Griggs wore a hard frown. He rocked slowly, from side to side. He went silent, preparing a final decision. Janice and Elliot anxiously waited for him to hand down his ruling.

“Janice, you have seniority here. You can stay. Elliot, I’m sorry, but you’re fired,” said Griggs.

Griggs watched as Elliot put his head in his palm and whispered with Janice. She patted him lovingly on the back, offering him some assurance. Elliot left the office and headed to the car. Janice was humbled and shamed, yet secretly relieved to have her job.

“Thank you for allowing me to stay, Mr. Griggs,” said Janice.

Griggs patted her on the back, making his own assertions.

“Oh, with a mouth like that I see good things coming your way.”


Click below to check out other Wicked Wednesday posts.

Dec 302014

Instead of a good, demented story, I guess I’ll break into some real life sentiment here. I try not to do that too often, but I’m opening up when it comes to some of my writing. So I guess I’ll kick around some rocks.

2014 is slipping into 2015. It will be June before I get the year right when having to sign and date any document. I never make resolutions for the new year. I figure if I didn’t anything special in August, why slap down a pledge to on January 1? It’s just another date. *shrugs*

I can’t look into the next year and predict what it will bring. I can look back at 2014 and see what I’ve accomplished and what it took to get there.  There are people who have different levels of influence over me as a developing blogger. I’ve learned how to take a picture, read a story without any expectations, see an image through someone else’s eyes, use a damn computer, and become a better writer. To so many people, I’m thankful.

2015. I need more of this, less of that. I have hopes. I have plans. I want to keep the machine running, maybe replace the window dressing and paint. Keep it fresh. Keep it rolling.


Dec 232014

Polly snuggled against the side of the love seat. She penned a letter to Richard and listened to Sinatra croon. Polly’s little brownstone smelled like hearty, warm, food, with a hint of sugar cookies. The soft white lights around her Christmas tree gave the room a pleasant glow. The few gifts below it were wrapped in matching paper with big, handwritten name tags.

She spent the afternoon in the kitchen working on an array of Richard’s favorites; hamburger steak, mashed potatoes with gravy, and green peas. After she finished her love letter, Polly made him a warm plate. She went to her room to change before delivering Richard’s food. She reappeared with her blonde curls fluffed and dark lip stain reapplied.

She packed his food up and tapped the letter to it. Polly kissed the picture of Richard that sat framed on the counter. She grabbed one of the gifts under the tree and headed for her car.


Richard waked in the house and set his briefcase on the counter. There was a Tupperware plate full of food and a letter laying out beside it.

“Don’t touch any of it,” she said.

Richard looked up to see his wife jostling down the stairs. His initial reaction was to pick up the paper and read it, but the familiar twirl of lights outside alerted him of the police.

“What’s going on? This again?” Richard leaned over and squinted to catch a few words of the letter before his attention was drawn to his wife.

“It’s too much! It’s got to stop. I could have been killed when that thing came through the window!” She cried.


The police arrived at Polly’s home. They found it to be neat and cozy, nothing out of place. She was happy to answer questions. As an officer took down her name and information, the Detective took a look around and asked questions that popped into his head.

He checked the fridge and noticed the leftovers. The Detective looked around the counters and noticed the picture of Richard. He made his way back into the living room and two more pictures caught his attention.

“Ma’am do you know Richard Smith?” The Detective asked.

He leaned over for a gift under the tree.

Same paper. Same heft. Same nametag. Different brick.

“Of course, he’s my therapist,” Polly smiled brightly to the Detective.


Dec 172014

I’ve never been a fan of body hair. I would prefer to snap my fingers and be soft and smooth. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work for me. I have a pale body and more black hair than any person on earth. It feels that way, at least. It started when  The Socialites and The Husband began checking on me while I was in the shower.

“Hey, you ok?”

“Uh… yeah. I’m taking a shower. Why?”

“Just checking. You’ve been in here for about an hour.”

An hour?  What the hell was I doing that was taking me an hour? I was shaving.


I’ve been shaving my legs since I was in the 5th grade. I begged my mother to let me do it when school started so I could wear shorts with pride. She made me wait until Christmas break. When I was in 6th grade, I think I shaved off a bug bite. There was some skin missing and a lot of blood. Other than that, no mishaps. I have to shave every day to have smooth legs.

I don’t remember when I started shaving my armpits. Probably, it was before my legs. But by the time I was 15 or 16 I was shaving my pussy. I tried little designs and cute shit. Always something small. I quickly moved to hairless. It was smooth and soft. And it moved to slippery really easily. Maybe that’s what’s so captivating, there’s no hair to interfere with seamless exchange of texture.

I’ve never used a mirror to shave my girl stuff. One hand always led the other.

I like a bikini wax, but it hurts like fuck. And so far I’ve found a few pieces of that blue wax  stuck in questionable places. Thanks, Natalya. But the place I go is fancy and the girl is quick about it. Those usually last about two weeks. For me, that means a week, solid.

I shave my arms in the summer. That started when I was a teenager. I was at a pool party and met my very first swimmer. He was slick. I’ll leave it at that.


Would I Like My Partner Shaved?

Honestly, I’d love for them to be as bare as I am.

I’ll take a nice, tight trim.

There’s no way I’m going down on a sweater.


Dec 092014

We worked at a bar filled with people who kept eyes on the door, and did their business at night. I was too young to work there. A pretty girl who just hit her twenties was fresh meat in a place like that. I was vetted, but my ability to do the job was another thing. The place was a seedy layer of rough.

Thomas was intimidating. He had thirteen years on me. I had no intention of causing Thomas any problems. Brian made me an issue for Thomas.

All of our secrets chased up the sun.

I knew Thomas felt some sort of way about me in the beginning.

I didn’t care.

We were fucking in the end.



“I don’t have any Kool-Aid or orange juice. How about a beer? I think you deserve it.” Thomas chuckled darkly and pulled his head from the fridge. Thomas liked the sharp parts of honesty.

“So….. why hasn’t he said anything to me?” I popped my ass up on the counter top. I hissed when the peeling laminate scraped against the back of my thigh. I spread my legs, cradling an ankle in my hand while my other one gingerly ran across the abrasion. There wasn’t any blood, but it hurt like a beast.

“You know that I can see almost all of your vagina?” Thomas was blunt as a fucking butter-knife.

I pulled my legs back down and rolled my eyes. I had on a flimsy tee and a pair of faded, red cotton panties. I’ve never been modest. Besides, I was fucking Brian. I never gave a second thought to Thomas seeing my body. Thomas and Brian were friends. I liked to think that Thomas and I had a slight friendship. I wasn’t going to pretend Thomas’ proclamation had anything to do with his alliance to me as much as it was a way to get rid of me.

“I’m being serious,” I was young.

“So am I,” he finished off his sandwich.

Thomas turned his beer up and finished it off. He ducked in for another.

“What was I supposed to do? Brian stashes you here for the weekend so he can fuck and go as he pleases? Look… somebody had to tell you. You were going to figure it out one way or another. This little set-up wasn’t going to last forever.”

Thomas was right. It was a life lesson. Brian stashed me with Thomas so I was always accessible. I was the whore. And I got played. Flickers of people I’d let him meet and places I’d taken him to, family, all in my head. Inexperience shook around my head in big boulders, then plummeted  down my gut until I fully understood.

“Was there anything else?” I asked.

“That Sherri bitch, tried to get a job over there where you used to work?” Thomas motioned in the air with his bottle.

I nodded slowly, placing the girl in my head.

“Brian fucked her in the ass. He said she almost wore him out.” Thomas nodded factually.

My brows lifted.

“Lovely,” I said.

“So, does Brian’s girlfriend and her kids live with him? Or is it the other way around?” I was curious.

Thomas grinned, shaking his head, “after six years, does it matter?”

Nov 252014

There was an entire group still in the dungeon lining up to play when Shannon left. She didn’t feel like sitting through another night chatting and not participating. She was officially someone who chatted, and never played. She hated that.

There was no one Shannon was interested in playing with. She was approached, but she was looking for a connection. She’d seen couples with amazing power exchanges. They were palpable. She wanted a relationship with an invisible boundary that radiated, that people could feel.

She left early and headed to her car. The black asphalt had a tiny glow from an overhead light a few buildings down. Disappointment made Shannon’s stomach heavy. Her innocent footfalls disgusted her. She missed noodle legs.


She heard her name called out. She looked over the parking lot and saw one of the members of the group sprinting towards her. She couldn’t remember his name. She knew he did a lot of rope. Shannon never really got on the rope bandwagon.

He was her age. Shannon always thought he had a misplaced surfer look. Maybe it was his shaggy blonde hair. He always wore jeans and a t-shirt. Not bad looking, either.

“I can’t remember your name,” Shannon said.

He laughed.

“Justin. But I’m guessing …since you didn’t know my name, you probably won’t play with me and my rope.”

“Here?” I asked.

“Sure, why not?” he seemed to be confused about any alternate locations available.

“Probably, but let me think about it. I’ll let you know next week.”

“Cool,” he said. Nodding his head, smiling.

He stood there for a little too long before Shannon gave a half wave, opened the door, and slid into her car. She cranked up and left with hopes of playing and falling in love with the feel of rope. At least she wouldn’t be chattering.

Shannon pulled into her parking spot, grabbed her purse and stuck her phone in her back pocket. She locked her car, and headed for the porch. Her footsteps creaking against the same spaces in the wooden porch were a natural and welcoming sound. He skipped a step. His long legs forced the wood to make sounds under his weight which were odd and unfamiliar.

Shannon turned around to face Justin just as he’d cleared the last step. He no longer had such a lax demeanor. With a black bag over his shoulder and a nervous smile on his face, he attempted to hug Shannon. She stepped back and looked at him curiously. He shrugged it off, nervously.

“Justin, did you follow me here?” asked Shannon

Justin nodded his head and laughed jovially.

“Yeah! I’m stoked. I just want to show you how seriously great rope can be. And I’ve been watching you. I know you are really flexible. I took your coat off once. I saw your back. I made a model, well, kind of a model. I started playing around with what all we could do if…” Justin rambled.

Justin was getting to the gut of it all. His frenzy was growing. Shannon backed into the doorway of her house. Justin’s arm movements were like a car window’s warning: some objects may be closer than they appear.

“Why don’t you come inside, Justin?” Shannon asked, calmly.

Justin’s face lit up. He nodded his shaggy head. Shannon unlocked the door and let him walk past her. The lamps Shannon left on prior to leaving the house softly lit the room. She never liked coming home to a dark house. Justin bent to unzip his bag. He began pulling coils of rope out. He was jabbering, excited.

When he bent over, Shannon dropped her bag and let fly four cartridges that would fishhook neatly through Justin’s thin white t-shirt and into the flesh in his back. The electric charges would have him seizing until he drooled and pissed on her floor.

She let him have the full 20 seconds. The last ten were for following her home. Shannon tilted her head from left to right. She watched him, and smiled. She left him plugged into the gun, but set it aside and wiped her hands dramatically, sneaking a peek into his bag.

“Well, Justin. This changes things. You’re the rope expert, but I can do magic with duct tape.”

Shannon drug a chair over from the kitchen. She bent down at an odd angle to peer into Justin’s glazed-over eyes. She kissed her finger and pressed it to his lips.

“I’ll be right back. I’ve just got to get the plastic out of the shed.”


Wicked Wednesday

Nov 182014

We rode in the backseat. Brian’s friend drove the van. There was plenty of room on the floor. Brian’s dick needed sucking. He was aggressive about pushing it down the back of my throat. His cock was so big, he rarely did that. I knew he didn’t want a regular blowjob. He wanted my mouth to warm his cock up, quick. He wanted me to gag on it.

He made a fist in my hair to control my head. He bucked his cock into my face. I gagged, long and hard, multiple times. He used to say that ‘the sound of a girl gagging on a cock was like ringing the erection dinner bell’. He pulled me up and started jerking at my belt and button on my jeans. I tried to catch my breath. There was saliva dripping from my bottom lip.

I stripped my shirt off and used it to wipe off the remnants of my gagging. I tossed it somewhere in the darkness of the van. My tits drew his attention away from ripping my jeans off. I unclasped my bra. My tits were fully unleashed into his big, rough hands.

“You want to suck…. aannnhh,” I said.

He had a huge mouthful of my right tit in his mouth. He bit at my nipples and I hissed like a snake, still trying to slither out of my pants. He liked my panties on, stretched to the side.

He pulled me up onto his lap, facing him. He grinned while he slid me down. He wanted me to the hilt on his cock. He slowly pulled me, determined, and stared at my face, muttering under his breath, nodding.

“…yeah, …yeah, all the way, ….all the way, ….take it, ….ahhh, good girl,”

At the same time he pulled me down, my own whine matched his animalistic mutterings. I was slippery. When I heard him call me a ‘good girl,’ my pussy was too needy to argue with him. All I could do was open up and sink down on him.

“…unnhhh…unnnhh…Babeeeee, my pussy.”

I bounced on his dick. The car lights behind and beside us were never so bright. I saw our fucking in the shadows that danced across the inside of the vehicle. We fucked past the point that I knew I’d be sore the next day.

We were sloppy and nasty. We were tired from cumming. The van smelled like sex. It was too cold to roll the windows down to air it out for too long. So the three of us rode home, talking as normal friends would. We laughed about Brian and I fucking. We teased about what his friend saw. They are both older than I am. Some jokes I didn’t get.

I was a happy slut, but Brian only knew his half of the story. My kinky side was creeping up on me. It was pushing me to try new things. I wanted his rough fucking. But I also wanted to be held down, and experiment with the painful side of pleasure. That’s why I was fucking his friend.

Wicked Wednesday

Nov 032014

Catherine was a Princess. Her station was obvious upon her delivery. She was overindulged by her family and bored with school studies. Catherine was developing a reputation. She spent evenings with faeries, dancing in the smoke of the Caterpillar.

As usual, Catherine was headed home, late. The windows were down and the radio was turned up. She felt a bump, and immediately another, larger one come from the passenger side of her car. It was her tire. She cursed as she exited the vehicle to examine it. Her front tire was partially deflated and had something sticking out of it.

There was a house about half a mile up the road. It looked to be her only reserve. Catherine’s boots were scuffed by the time she reached the front door of the home, but the gown and the crown made it obvious who she was. Catherine knocked on the door. When it opened, the woman answering it looked surprised. Catherine explained the issue she was having with her car. She was ushered right in.

The woman called for her son, Charlie, to bring Catherine a warm wrap for her shoulders while she put on water for tea, and snacks. Charlie’s first glance at her blonde hair and pretty pink ribbon left him thick tongued. He was shocked when he came into the foyer, carrying the wrap his mother called for.

“Hmm… Hi. I’m Charlie. You probably don’t know me. I know you. I mean, everyone knows you. You’re a Princess. I’m a few years younger than you in school.”

Charlie bumbled over his little speech. He was nervous to have a Princess in his house. He offered her the warm wrap.

“Actually, I think you were in charge of helping us hang decorations for the Annual Nightingale Dance, weren’t you?” Catherine whipped the wrap to cover her shoulders. His cheeks turned pink.

“Yeah, I like helping out the theatre department. We just finished our Fall show.”

“The Princess’s did a fundraiser for it. Laurel’s mother had Ogre’s mud donated. That stuff’s great for your face. I sold six tickets for time with the mermaids.” Catherine winked at Charlie. Charlie blushed and turned his face away.

“I hope you don’t mind a little honey in your tea!” Charlie’s mother was back. She had huge mugs of steaming tea, cookies, and slices of cake.

“It’s very late. You’re welcome to stay the night. First thing in the morning I’ll have Charlie go down and check out that tire. Then he can take you home. You can stay in Charlie’s room. He can have the couch. In the morning you’ll be – fresh, fed, and have a good night’s sleep.”

His mother insisted.

Catherine took a hot, steamy shower. Charlie grabbed a blanket and pillows for the couch. His mother put fresh sheets on his bed and fetched Catherine acceptable sleepwear. The entire night Catherine tossed and turned.

The next morning, after being force-fed their weight in breakfast, Charlie and Catherine cut out to find her car. It wasn’t a long walk. Charlie bent over the tire and frowned.

“You ran over something.” Charlie gave it a tug and it came right out.

“What is it?” Catherine leaned over to get a better look.

“Hmm… just some deer antler.” Charlie looked it over and lifted his arm to fling it into the woods.

“Wait,” said Catherine. “Let me see.”

Charlie stood and handed the jagged piece of antler to Catherine. Charlie worked, getting the spare tire put on, while Catherine wondered around with the piece of deer antler. She turned it over, held it up to the sun and grinned.

“Yanno… If this is what I think it is…,” She lifted the antler piece to her nose and gave it a good whiff. “Yep. It has a faint sparkle on the inside and it smells like candy canes.” Catherine gave Charlie a sly smile. She reached around and pulled the pretty pink ribbon from her hair. She tied it around the antler. Charlie watched her with a questioning stare.

“Reindeer antler.” It’s ground up and smoked to make girls horny. But, as a guy, if you wear it around your neck, it makes your dick grow.” She offered the homemade necklace. He looked at it with hesitation. She chuckled and tied it around his neck. Catherine reached down and massaged a handful of Charlie’s fattening cock. Catherine’s facial expression turned to excitement. His turned to embarrassment as Charlie’s release was almost immediate.

“Yanno, we could get in the backseat,” Catherine said, not noticing. Her fingers teased him. Charlie was panting and pulling away. He broke free of her grasping hands. And put both hands in the air “surrendering.”

“Thanks…for everything. See you at school!” And Charlie was gone. He ran off so fast she didn’t even see which he direction he went. Catherine got in the car and headed home in a huff.

Charlie burst through the front door. His mother was sewing on the dining room table. Some of his teeth were falling out , replaced by sharp, shiny, new ones. His face stretched and the fur underneath begin to show. He also had a huge erection.

His mother looked at him in shock, “Charlie!”

“You wouldn’t understand, Mom!” Charlie ran to his room, whimpering like a puppy.

Charlie’s mother went back to sewing. She clicked her tongue against one of her own sharp teeth. She wondered if she was feeding these kids enough when they came around.

Catherine arrived home, still nursing a hurt ego. She was willing to give Charlie a piece of ass. She figured he’d rather have Mermaids of the Month instead. Fine by her, the magazine made the left side of his mattress impossible to sleep on.

“Boys are dogs,” said Catherine.

See who else is being wicked this Wednesday…

Wicked Wednesday

Oct 262014

I lost my virginity when I was in my mid-teens. SGirl and I had a lot of friends. We traveled from one group to another. Different groups, different schools, different ages, we were in it. We were there. We did a significant amount of socializing, drinking, and hot-boxing in bathrooms. We were stupid teenagers. Best friends, but fuck, were we stupid.

We both decided that our virginity was not a gift. It was a pain in the ass. We had ignorant discussions about thoughts that terrified us. Most of what we knew about sex came from high school gossip.

“My fucking hymen is going rip, and I’d bleed everywhere. He’s gonna be disgusted and tell all of his friends. Blood will be all over his dick, and me, and wherever we’re fucking. I mean, I think it’s heavy period blood. “

“How long till you stop bleeding?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“You think that’s disgusting, he’ll never want to see you again.”

“We’ve got to find somebody to fuck.”

“But don’t tell them we’re virgins.”

“That’s the plan.”

We stole a box of rainbow condoms and Rice Krispy Treats from a grocery store. We were ready.

We decided that we’d pick a random guy and have sex with him. Do the “one night stand” thing and never have to see the guy again. That would do away with any messy business when we found someone we wanted to date and start fucking. We’d be knowledgeable and experienced by then.

I lost my virginity to Vince. He was a friend of a guy that we started hanging with. The guy looked like he was carved from stone. But his head was full of rocks. I’m fairly positive he was over 21, considering he purchased alcohol with no problem. Alcohol wasn’t the problem the night that SGirl and I decided to go ahead with the plan and get our fucks out of the way. I wanted to be sober. I needed to maneuver through the best I could. Probably, it would have been a better experience had I been passed out cold.

After a full make-out session, and trying multiple times to line it up and go in for the kill, we both had to sit back and have a come-to-Jesus meeting about how his cock is just NOT fitting inside me. No wonder, it was the size of a soda can. At that age, I didn’t know they were made that thick. He would not fit inside of me. Although we tried another dozen times, with no lube. We basically tortured my virginity out of me. Mostly, because I didn’t understand my own vagina. Thanks Mom!

Note to all you virgins out there, who are just trying to kick one out, don’t do it with a guy whose dick is that big. Losing my maidenhood landed me in the emergency room, hemorrhaging. Although my best friend and I still laugh about it today. It was the most embarrassing thing in the word, then.

Wicked Wednesday