The Secret Diary of Janey Jones

The bedtime snack is a healthy portion of shame. You can unwrap it with the sound of the headboard banging on the wall while wishing he would put a gag in her squeaky little mouth.

Just be quiet when you eat the guilt of your thoughts, because you don’t want them to hear your quiet blushing chewing.
 
There is a bunch of fuck you in my chest waiting to come out.

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Are you sure? You might end up begging for the laughing vapor.

I am quite sure, thank you.

As a side, please take comfort in knowing that if I turn out to be wrong, I am even more confident in my ability to beg. Actually, I must confess that these big doughy chocolate caramel orbs of mine have been left unused for so long that they could really use some glossy longing and pleading practice...

Oh Janey, now I feel torn... I wonder what you would tell me that you would prefer... Would you tell me... please...?
 
So, I'm tipsy and these old guys wanna take me to a 'go-go' bar. I'm like: Let's go!
But my old- friend-of-family is like: 'no, you don't go'
 
It's not day old rolls and cheese ends for dinner anymore. Everyone seems pleased. I could be very good at this pleasing business.
 
There is a bird nest settled in the green curtain of my soul. I can see out, but they can’t see in.

It’s the bathroom window, no blinds are necessary. I could boom up with the truck and hack away the vines, but why would I do that?

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Haha! What we need around here is a decision maker. I still don't have the courage to write about last friday night...

Meet me at the pool! :kiss:

I will tell you when you get to the pool. I want to swim now.

Yes! Let's dip our sun chapped skin and dive down to the cool and quieter places where warm secrets like to play. I can help you find your courage beneath the rippling surface of the water, should you need help... Don't worry, I will just come closer to your mouth so your words won't need to swim very far at all. :rose:
 
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Yes! Let's dip our sun chapped skin and dive down to the cool and quieter places where warm secrets like to play. I can help you find your courage beneath the rippling surface of the water, should you need help... Don't worry, I will just come closer to your mouth so your words won't need to swim very far at all. :rose:
I can imagine my words swimming to you. :rose:
 
I can imagine my words swimming to you. :rose:

For your heavy kicking and splashing words, I will happily be a cozy PFD for them to rest upon so that you can feel eased if even for a little while. When your head is lightened and your heart is floating again, we can lean back and face the suddenly bluer skies, and trace fantastic cloud animal parades together. :)
 
Two women sonar the concrete
chlorine
and sun-drying bellies
with serious calls of
Marco
Polo
Marco
Polo.

The one with her eyes closed
lunges
The other splashes away.

The games we come back to
are our best guesses about the world.

Adult swim.
 
The one woman with the blindfold stays still and listens for water movement. She can’t hear me coming because I swim deep under the water.

I find her and pull the strings of her bikini, render her naked and then I swim away fast to the edge of the pool. I climb out and watch her in the sun turning on tiptoes, listening for me.

I walk the perimeter of the pool watching her like a shark on the concrete edge of life. What do I want to do?

I wait, and she starts mumbling: please. She’s begging for something. She looks so vulnerable, alone and naked in the middle of the pool.
 
"All I want is BJ and sleep. I don’t know why girls make this so difficult."

I replied: I am wasted parked on some street sleeping in my car and I am not even sure what street I am on.

He replied: I will come and get you if you give me a BJ.

I replied: If you can find me I will give you a BJ. I am going to puke before you get here so I don’t puke on you.

I really wanted a normal shower with normal city water. It was 3 in the morning.

I know him well. He doesn’t know much about my secret desires but he likes to fight, that’s how we became friends in elementary school.

He threw me on the bed. We started to struggle. He kept my hands pinned above my head. Whenever he let go I began to fight again.

I said: You said BJ. You are trying to fuck me. He said: Stop fucking moving. Keep your hands where I put them.

We struggled some more, and laughed in between seriousness.

I ended up on my stomach trapped underneath him. In one hard fast second my pants were down and I felt my asshole being pierced. He put his super hard cock in my little dry asshole with no lube.

I screamed from the shock and pain. I was afraid to move. I thought: Is it going to hurt just as bad coming out? He didn’t begin fucking as I was screaming. He held me tight like a trapped animal. He covered my mouth with his hand. I played dead like a dog till his body relaxed. As he prepared to push in deeper I made my escape and bolted forward towards the headboard.

I was crying, streaming tears. I quickly turned around to face him. I had to protect my asshole. I tried to cover all my holes. My body was stiff. He pounced on me and started kissing my face holding my stiff head up. “I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am not going to hurt you again, I don’t know what happened. Please forgive me.”

I whispered: You put your manhood into my asshole with no lube or warning.

I cried some more. I think he cried too. We curled up into some kind of a ball. After a long while he carried me to the shower and I didn’t resist. He washed my dirty asshole gently with soap. Then I got on my knees with the water running down my back and gave him a BJ.
--
Laugh or cry, it's up to you.
 
Last Friday I got ½ ass raped by a tall freckled, bald ginger boy with tattoos and crooked teeth.

This Friday I got a blue box in the mail from the banker who never kissed me, fucked me or ½ ass raped me. Inside the box is a small bracelet. He always picks the most innocent looking jewelry bi-yearly, every year, all these years.

What is the meaning of this?
 
Last Friday I got ½ ass raped by a tall freckled, bald ginger boy with tattoos and crooked teeth.

This Friday I got a blue box in the mail from the banker who never kissed me, fucked me or ½ ass raped me. Inside the box is a small bracelet. He always picks the most innocent looking jewelry bi-yearly, every year, all these years.

What is the meaning of this?

Ok, it's unlike me to barge in but you've been writing this glorious slew for 4 months and 13 days and I just found it at 6:07pm EST today and I'm still trilling. My thoughts so far? It's like a pomegranate, actually, with an unknown number of edible arils inside. And you're like a dream merchant but with sharper edges.

I looked at the mini foil soy container which said Tear Here but I am not a Method Actor who can Cry On Command. I'll be back.
 
Ok, it's unlike me to barge in but you've been writing this glorious slew for 4 months and 13 days and I just found it at 6:07pm EST today and I'm still trilling. My thoughts so far? It's like a pomegranate, actually, with an unknown number of edible arils inside. And you're like a dream merchant but with sharper edges.

I looked at the mini foil soy container which said Tear Here but I am not a Method Actor who can Cry On Command. I'll be back.
When I was little they told me that a pomegranate was an Indian apple. I never heard anyone else name it that, have you?
 
If I get up they will hear me and know I hear them.
--
Last week in the kitchen:

She: When women get together and support each other it can be wonderful and powerful.
Me: uh-huh.
She: It’s great, I used to go to these meetings. It was so liberating.
Me: Sounds… great.

And then I drank the juice straight out of the jug for old times sake and

I whispered: It didn’t sound so powerful when you were squeaking and moaning in the bed last night. I don’t want to know about your power woman, hippy, and commune weird stuff.
 
When I was little they told me that a pomegranate was an Indian apple. I never heard anyone else name it that, have you?

nope. Oh, wait... yeah I did hear that.

When I was little my mom told me not to rough-house because these other kids had Brittle Bone Disease and if I tackled them their parents would sue the shit out of us. My mom had issues.
 
nope. Oh, wait... yeah I did hear that.

When I was little my mom told me not to rough-house because these other kids had Brittle Bone Disease and if I tackled them their parents would sue the shit out of us. My mom had issues.
Good. I am glad my parents weren't telling me some bullshit. I just never heard anyone else naming it that before. Now I am not alone.

When I was little my mom told me: Little girls are to be seen and not heard. I guess everyone has issues.

So, what about the rough-housing? Do you compensate for it now?
 
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