The Secret of Pornography

From a few years ago.


He might have brought her out to the playground in an old wheelbarrow–but, most likely, it was in a child’s red wagon.

The place was deserted, at any rate; and that was good. That meant that there would be no disturbances, no prying eyes or questioning law enforcement officers. Only him and her.

They stood for a moment in the pastel light streaking between the grey, lowering clouds. She was wearing only a loose-fitting shirt. He lifted her quickly out of the conveyance, not liking the weird, squirming bulk of her legless torso against his flesh. His own flesh, he reflected, was whole; however, but for want of legs, the lady would have been undeniably appealing.

Her loose, dark and curly hair fell to her shoulders. Her face was a little too pale, too thin; there was a circle and a line or two around the circumference of the eye…

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