Chapter Twelve - Arrangements
She rose and moved to the couch. Her knees were sore and she felt as if she might vomit. She also wanted to relieve the burning ache between her legs, but Stein would be back shortly. She could feel Richie’s spittle between her breasts and the sour taste of him on her tongue and in the back of her throat. My God, she thought, I begged him to marry me. I begged him on my knees. And I took his filthy p***s in my mouth, and I swallowed his jism. I must be sick, perverted, insane.
The labels didn’t matter. She was what she was. Possibly she had always been this way. And who, she thought, can pass judgment. Yesterday’s perversion is tomorrow’s entertainment. Does anyone have the right to decide which human act is to be considered natural and which unnatural? Onc
