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The struggling is all for show, really. She wants it, she asked for it by name. But when she gets what she wants, she simply can’t hold still.

She’s been told before that these things are wrong, perverse. To accept them in practice would be to accept them in principle. And she couldn’t do that. She’s a woman of principles.

And so she squirms. And she gasps. And she begs please don’t. Usually, she’s given it anyway. But, sometimes, the action stops. And she has to beg for it. Admit it. Claim it. 

She has to give it a name again. And by naming it, she makes it hers.

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The Holiday Party, Part 2

“Hi, I don’t think I know you.”

I admit I was caught a bit off-guard when I turned and saw the girl who had said it to me. I had seen her out on the dance floor and definitely was impressed (she looks a lot like the girl in this picture), but I had not expected such a friendly welcome.

“Oh,” I replied, “I don’t go here. I’m Ivy.” I shook her hand. She introduced herself and asked me where I went. I tried to skirt the subject. I hate admitting where I go because I sometimes get over-the-top reactions or people think I’m bragging. 

Her eyes widened. “Oh, wow. So, you’re like…brilliant or something?”

“Oh, God, no,” I was blushing. She was smiling.

She placed her hand on mine and smiled. She had a really precious little gap-tooth. Gap-teeth turn me on. For real. I find them so charming and so sexual for some reason. “There’s so many gay people here,” she gestured toward the group of people dancing. I hadn’t noticed. “I didn’t really grow up near a lot of that at all. It’s really nice to see.”

I wasn’t sure if she was trying to push a subject and I was way too tamed by her looks to try to flirt too hard. I get far too bashful around really pretty girls. It’s a weakness. The stronger, more “butch” types I can totally handle. Once they get too pretty, I turn to mush.

“So, your top is really cute,” I changed the subject. Generic girl talk. I’m a whimp.

She giggled, “you look gorgeous. I’m totally straight, I promise. But you’re like really, really pretty.”

Miss Gap-tooth, I hereby proclaim your name to be Noodlegirl. Let the games begin.

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“I once had a garden filled with flowers that grew only on dark thoughts, but they need constant attention and one day I decided I had better things to do,” – Brian Andreas, Story People.