Entry #1 - January 2nd 2011
I remember one day back in eighth grade texting my friend in a panic because I didn't know where "it" was. I was laying down on my pink bed with my belly up, trying to be sly and smooth about it. You know, where's the magic button? The thing that makes you supposedly blow up in a good way if hit right.
I was in eighth grade and didn't remember shit about sex-ed from fifth grade. It wasn't useful information for me at the time. But now that I was old enough to know what was going on, I knew I had to go on a journey of personal self-discovery. Very, very personal. Masturbating is weird when you aren't even in high school yet and you don't have a reason to.
And when I went back to school the next day, I told my best friend at the time. She looked at me and laughed because she thought I would have
known. How do I know that shit? I had never even seen porn back then to even have an idea.
YOU ARE READING
The Moving Target
Romance"I can see the curiosity in you. That's why I think you aren't just straight. No woman is. I don't buy that shit. You're a moving target. All woman are." This story is told through journal entries and flash-backs. May Contain: Infrequent Drug Usage...
