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on reflection
So now I think I'm starting to understand why you like us
girls so much.
Sugar'n'spice, et-cet. She tasted like Candy Shrimps and Flying
Saucers. Her hair was softer than the most lustrous Welwyn Garden-Wife's jacket.
And she was squashy, and squirmy against me. Boys are all angles, and bones sticking
out at strange places, and furry matted hair in some places and unevenly bald
in others, and your faces are spiky when you haven't shaved for a bit, and you
smell.... well, you don't smell like us.
Ladies just look like grown-up little girls. I have no idea why
I'm so attracted to you, boys. You must have good personalities or something.
Don't go changing. But hairdo girl, if you're out there, mail me. And... thanks!
You kiss like a girl. And that's no insult.
'Pah! What kind of reject lesbian are you,' the more tactless
busybodies among you are probably thinking, 'with your little tongue kiss that
lasted like five minutes or less? We want strap-ons, we want carpet-chomping,
we want fisting!'
Don't fret readers. That's next week's topic!
Zoe
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