Loss of innocence with a dildo and a human ferret

James is stuttering and spluttering at his phone. I have a bottle between my legs and I’m shoving the corkscrew in. The wine is splashing between my legs, the sun is splashing thorugh the bay window, and inside my veins there is a bubble and splash of a thousand crazy things that commence to gush out of me now. I’m telling him everything that comes to mind, everything that was bottled up inside me and which James’ loose laugh has somehow released.

Like a drug dealer pushing at the suburbs, or the dirty frat boy convincing a virgin to fuck. So now I’ve been fucked by nine men and I have an iPhone and I know who Bruce Jenner is and I send people snapchats of my face animated with stupid emojis and hearts in my eyes… why? I do hate what this has done to me, because it’s only made me slower.
—thinking of this woman as a cat makes me want to vomit, so I’ll assume she’s a ferret instead—

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