Blackthorn

by J.T. Geissinger

Raising a child is like taming a lion. The more people you have cracking whips at the creature, the better.” I look at her with raised brows. “That is a deeply disturbing analogy. It’s probably good you didn’t want kids.” “Oh, I adore children! It was the worry I didn’t want. Once you become a mother, you’re never rid of it until you’re dead.”

Facts

I need to be prone for this conversation, so I recline on the bed and stare at the ceiling.

Relatable af

Last but certainly not least, what in the Jurassic Park fuck is going on here?

This is when I realize I’m dressed in pajamas, not the robe I had on last night when I went downstairs for the whiskey I never ended up getting because I went into the greenhouse to have my pussy wrecked by a Ronan-shaped monster. I have no idea when reality ended yesterday and the smut version of Alice in Wonderland began.