Chapter Twenty
A group of girls had smuggled in some bottles of wine. After two or three glasses, Judith was holding forth, as she liked to do. “I’m not narrow-minded,” she said, sitting on a table with her elegant legs crossed. “I’ll allow that there can be some pleasure in a man’s c**k. But only if it’s been trained, and if you know how to handle it.”
“How would you handle it, Judith?” asked one of the girls archly. Some of the girls sniggered.
“It’s got to be trained to f**k how you want. But the problem with the male c**k is that it has its own imperatives. It’s a selfish organ, it’s programmed to seek its own pleasure, not yours. That’s why the best c**k is always the one that’s strapped onto a pretty girl. A girl who’s been trained to please you. Since there is no actual physical
