Porn

Occasionally my photo library is full of tits. My tits. I don’t like the word ‘tits’ but I guess that’s what the kids call ’em. Maybe it’s ‘tiddies’ now. 

I can’t ever keep up. 

Honestly, 

kids these days. 

I say it like I’m not a twenty-two year old sitting in the nearly-rain at my best friends bar writing, trying to become an author or something.

But really all I am is a twenty-two year old sitting in the nearly rain at my best friends bar writing, trying to become an author or something.  

And I’m tired, but that’s because we stayed up too late last night watching porn documentaries. It was educational. It was kinda more fascinating than I expected. Girls, and that’s what they are, girls introducing themselves to cameras and being introduced to bodies and playing with fiery faux love. I couldn’t do it. I don’t think I could anyway. I’ve never tried though so I guess I can’t be certain. 

Sometimes I like the thrill of walking a tight rope. Opening my camera roll in public when I full well know I haven’t moved the nudes into a private folder as of yet. There’s like, sixty pictures of my boobs (is ‘boobs’ any better?) because, you know, you gotta take that many to insure an ace. 

That’s the point, innit? Scoring an ace. 

Only to send to you. 

Perhaps a little for myself,

mostly for you. 

I can’t lie to you. 

You can’t catch me out but you full well know I look just like my pictures so I suppose that’s not a lie either. I love being honest with you, I love that you’re honest with me. 

Plus you like my tits (we’re back at ‘tits’ now) so that’s a bonus. 

Thank you—

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