Tag

Peaches

The scariest part about having sex with somebody brand new is when you have to hear their “O” sound for the first time or, even worse, are directly confronted with an ugly “O” face. How will they sound when they orgasm? Is it a light moan? Is shaking involved? Do the toes curl and the legs vibrate?

Bald headed, barefoot, cooch exposed — whatever — in 1999 Britney Spears was everything. She may not be a powerhouse singer a la Adele or Jessie J., but she’s the one artist I actually want to hear remixed. Don’t even come out with an album of original songs — just get to the point and give us the remixes.

Part of my job was arranging displays of art books, many of which were racy, but not in a way that bothered me because I was a third-wave sex-positive feminist who had taken a semester-long course on female sexuality. As part of my class, I’d written feminist erotica and was empowered to squat over a mirror.

Maybe I like this song so much because I don’t have any money. I am pretty broke. I owe more money in student loans than I will make in 10 to 20 years. I will never rob anyone no matter how broke I am, but I think it’s still okay for me to appreciate raw, extreme, and brutal (artistic) assessments of criminalistic money-making.

Boys smell like patchouli, sweat, and gardenias. They smell like hard work, taut muscles, and thick hairy legs. The aromas of a boy are all irresistibly disgusting, which I guess also accurately sums up boys themselves.

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