There are no good girls gone wrong — only good girls found out.
In middle school there was a girl who was called a hoe so frequently we didn’t know any other way to address her. She had a freaky habit of letting boys run trains on her. I’m not certain how my face looked when the school kids would rag her, but on the inside, I was curious. I wanted to know what it felt like to be possessed in such a way. If we remove all of the self-esteem and sanctimonious diatribes that folks like to go on about sex, particularly a woman’s sex, we have a body teeming with excitement; various pleasure zones and a young mind that wants to explore.
Unquestionably, there were reasons that made that young girl expose herself to sex so soon because we all thought about it, but were socialized enough not to act on it, she missed the socialization boat. But no socialization could hide my interest in having each hole gagged and my purity obstructed. I wanted to know what it felt like to be owned, what it felt like to be a pleasure source, a place where boys came for joy. If trains weren’t socially prohibited there would be more women laying on the tracks and opening wide for waves of penis.
Most of us want to explore the darker side of our sexuality — there’s an abandonment, a level of danger that comes with the disregard, that in itself makes the idea charming. Men should know, that the girl you love, the girl you dream about has considered it and if the world ever normalized it she’d lay down like good gel on fresh baby hairs.