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143 pages, Paperback
First published May 10, 2006
I liked hurting girls.
The thing is, I got off on it. I really enjoyed it.
And it was legal. I think I killed a few of them. Their souls I mean.
All those intimate moments, every little sigh, those gentle touches, the lovemaking, the confidences, the orgasms, the attempted orgasms, all mere fuel. The deeper in they were, the more beautiful they looked when the moment came.
“This is what I look like when I’m pretending to listen to your boring conversation.”
I froze my sweetest expression with my innocent blues eyes widening in pseudo-interest,
“This is what I look like when I’m pretending to be in love with you.”
I gazed at her lovingly, but respectfully, the way I had done so many times and meant it. I even meant it then but only because I wanted it to be convincing.
“Hang on. What else? Oh yeah. Here’s what I look like when I’m pretending you are even slightly witty just so I can get laid later on.”
“Your cunt is loose.”
“Let me put it another way. Your vagina is baggy…feels overused.”
“To get a hard-on I have to think of some girl I’ve seen on the bus.”
The word is paranoid. Another word is self-centered. I don't like that one as much, though. Doesn't sound medical enough.
I don’t want you staining my newly published pages with your salty eye-droplets so I’ll get off this topic now. I will say this though. Seeds were sown.
She also had hairs on her arse. That was crime enough but crime number two? She really liked me.
I’ve never thought much of a girl who swallows. Don’t get me wrong it feels fantastic and I’m aglow with gratitude at the time but only a slut would ever actually do something like that.
Now, I don’t know about the rest of you irreligious fucks but in Ireland we don’t stand for that kind of behaviour.