Reasons You Shouldn’t Fuck Kids

Last night, my husband leaned in for a kiss. And we started kissing and kissing. I got wrapped up in it, in the feel of his lips, in the passion of kissing, in the beauty of kissing my sweet wonderful husband who I love so much. It’s been so long since we have done that, since I have felt like that. Maybe this could even lead to some sex.

And then I got lost in the physical feeling of being kissed, of kissing someone. Wait, I am kissing someone. My lips are on SOMEONE. Who is this? WHO IS THIS? Someone’s lips are on me! Who is this? WHO ARE YOU, WITH YOUR LIPS ON ME? G-d dammit, who is this? I open my eyes frantically trying to remember, is this my husband? How old am I? What were those fucking techniques the therapist taught me? Look at my hands, look at my hands, hands always show your true age. I can’t see, G-d dammit, I can’t see, it’s dark in here. Please stop. I am afraid. Please stop! I can’t speak. My voice is lost like it was all those many years ago. And I abruptly pull away. My husband says “Baby, are you okay?” And I can’t answer him, even though I hear him, because I am too far away to stop what is happening inside me now, and I can’t bring myself back even though I am trying so hard.

I am lost now in a terrifying world of my brother’s tongue on my vagina, of my father’s head on my breasts, of the feel of hands on me. I am afraid. What is happening, what is happening?!? Please sweet husband, please bring me back. I am scared where I am, and right now it seems like there is no end to this, and I am a little girl again with hands on me and I don’t want them there. I never wanted them there in the first place. And then, terrifyingly slowly, I come back, and I am an adult in my adult body again and I am staring at my husband who has waited for me ever so patiently. But the moment that started all of this is just so completely lost. And I get upset and start crying, because I want to just be able to fucking kiss my husband without my brother and father and babysitter entering my head and fucking with me again, even though I am not in that little body anymore.

This is why you shouldn’t fuck kids. We have scary flashbacks of what you did to us, and it feels like it is happening to us all over again. It’s not enough you have to fuck us once, you have to fuck us for the rest of our lives too?