I hated men. I hated anyone who would rape someone. They had done everything to me. Oral. Anal. Brutal. She held my hand. She touched my hair. "... love you, Jessica." "Jesse." "Right." She leaned forward, and she kissed me, softly. It was nice. I felt her hand on my breast, and I put mine on hers. "Jess, I have to tell you something," she said. "Yes?" "You're not a lesbian. I'm not either." "I feel like a lesbian." She smiled. "No, you feel erotic. You feel aroused.. "What the hell... all right, yeah, that's part of it, and that ought to be enough for you. He's a godamned queer! On top of that, he's a... a... a..." He's hooked, pere, eh?" she interrupted again. "Addicted... and to heroin, right?" She lay her hand on Launcelot's massive head to keep the animal from growling. "But then, that should make you happy, mon pere, I mean, if it weren't for people like Armand, how could you get along? Really, I think you're very short-sighted..." Godamn you, girl!. More

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