If I had, for one moment, thought I could be...

Thrown from the, rogue, school bus, with my brother at the helm and my wife on his knee, I was. And into an abyss, if there are multiple abysses, and I am certain there are. This one is royal purple, your two aching arms rolling inward around the tenderest rubber of my first love, Doc Johnson. Evelyn, I lost my virginity to a dildo last night. It is my belief of course that all girls could claim the same, if weren't for the kindness in their hearts I don't myself possess. It could have been a real man, Eve, and still I'd know he was a dildo.

I should think my fate had come for me. You see, it was not our first encounter, Doc and I. Since I was old enough to know it, many a coincidence has had me stumbling upon sex toys in the houses of our old neighborhood. A drawer packed with butt plugs in various sizes, shapes, and colors in Zora’s grandmother’s motorhome, some with faces of animals. Dozens of instances, in my solitude, did I turn the right knob, part the correct curtain to reveal these ill-revered objects of desire. Straps, whips, and paddles of brown and red leather, hung in the closet of a very unlikely colleague. Do you know the most disturbing aspect of this, particular, discovery was the fact that none were black? I suppose there is some safety in cliche.

For this reason, it has been with some trepidation I dare to look into hidden spaces. What temper of God it was to ensure it was me who found them, I do not pretend to understand. Over a Christmas vacation, I fucked Jack on her parents bed, much to her excitation. In the afterglow, I lit a cigarette, and she berated me for it, as she does, but did not ask I extinguish it. I bet her money that should I reach under the bed, I would produce a vibrator. She blushed, and slapped my arm, refusing to take part in my perverse games. She, then, waved my smoke away from her, and shuffled off to the bathroom.

Of course, I reached under the bed, in her absence. I found, without surprise, 4 inches of smooth, white plastic, attached by a, thin, cord, to a, small, remote with, 2 settings. I gripped it, to approximate the girth, and imagine it’s entry into what I might presume is a, more, shriveled version of Jack's vagina. Deciding I’d like it’s owner to understand herself to be found out, by an unknown culprit, I did not return the vibrator to it’s hiding spot. Instead, I inserted it between the pillow, under my head, and the cleanly sheeted mattress, and finished my cigarette. Before Jack's return, I had time to ponder her mother's secret friend, and what love she may possess, for it. Do you know, I may have fallen in love with the woman, just then?

Where was I? Ah, yes, my fate.

Haunted by anal beads, Evelyn. Wouldn’t this have to be your Adam’s affliction? I have never told a soul, until this moment, although, Nicholas has, quietly, acquired the memory, with some wide-eyed, judgemental, disbelief. Yesterday, you beckoned me to the, not exactly, unfamiliar sensation, of fingers toying with the, swollen, lips of your pussy. My pussy, that is, or Brad’s. Hello, Joel. Or, perhaps, Nick’s. You’re here, I know, brother. I know your prickly neck excreting a licorice smell, as the dingo in you raises one ear. Your enveloping attack, on my respiratory system, begins. Oh, how considerate, to allow me participation, of your, warm, quickening, pulse. Well, now, Evelyn, what have we, here?

How readily you turned on me. We were having such a nice time. But, then, you threw me, as it were, to the lions, of my own creation, or of Bonaventure’s. I cannot be sure. I might have known. The very day I injected myself into you, to name my species, and yours, I, simultaneously, imposed a rule of responsibility. For if you name a thing, you must then be named it’s opposer, and be blamed the causation for it’s every affliction. I might have known you’d give me, so fairly, so Evenly, and laughing, back to my first act of true violence.

And I deserved it, Evelyn. Decidedly.