You notice the ring on my finger and I proudly announce that I’m engaged - my step-dad has found me a suitable man to marry, and I couldn’t be happier!
You don’t understand how I could marry someone I’ve never met.
And what seems to me a genuine concern for my wellbeing, to you is just the sinister way for you to sow the seed of doubt. I want to be pregnant, of course. How do I know my husband will have the facilities to make that happen if I’ve never seen it before we marry?
I’m naive, yes. But I’m not stupid. You have a point. But you need to stop talking about sex with me, it’s not like you have anything to write home about, right?
Wrong.
Oh I was so very wrong.
Don’t sit next to me after getting it out! I feel… compelled by it. Almost like your BWC is enticing me, pulling me in closer whether I like it or not.
And my god. I think it’s obvious that I really, REALLY like it. I’m going to regret this, I know I am. But fuck me? Breed me? Take my virginity? Please?
