fug is up with you, girlie?” Vive stood between us, ruining my opportunity for a dramatic exit.
“I need a shower. Can you please take me to your room?”
Vive nodded and said in their direction, “Leon, I’ll catch you sexy boys, later. Oh and thank you for bringing Taddy back alive and in one piece.”
Concern creased Leon’s forehead. I could care less how he felt. Regret soured in my empty stomach. Never mind that I’d given up my Lady V. I had unprotected sex in the Atlantic Ocean and under a tree with a dude who had a boyfriend.
I wasn’t just fucked, I was screwed.
So Screwed!
“Whether you’re lusting or in love, crave boys or girls, desire monogamy or openness, sex for the first time can be a beautiful, scary, and an unforgettable experience. Why? Because it only happens once! For my VBF her Atlantic Ocean sexscapade wasn’t the beginning to an end. No, boo. Leon Lartigue had opened Taddy’s mind with fresh thoughts and desires. And if you know anything about Taddy, she’s a curious girl.” — Blake Morgan III, husband hunter, future father, and undecided college major.
TMI Moments
Eden Island
Unfrickin’ believable!
Giving the boys my best catwalk possible, I strutted my twice-fucked, unfed, sunburned bum toward the resort.
Too much for me to handle, I pressed my palm against my forehead.
Nope. My head hadn’t exploded. Not yet. One might say I’d seen and experienced too much in my eighteen years. Well duh!
I recapped the TMI moments of my life. In chronological order they are…
#1. Living on the Upper West Side in an apartment building that everyone knew my name and who my parents had swung with. Looking back on it now, the Brillfords must’ve been the laughingstock of the entire block. No wonder I was sent away.
#2. Having a mother that reeked booze, and I mean twenty-four-seven. At Avon Porter, kids would come back from the holidays with a bottle of their mother’s perfume. They told me that smelling the fragrance in their room, especially on their pillows, helped them to not get homesick. I sure as fudge wasn’t going to sniff a flask of bourbon. Yuk.
#3. Not knowing the identity of my birth-father isn’t that big of a deal. But having a man I loved, correction—still love—as a father who wants nothing to do with me, is a living nightmare. I’ve called, written letters, and tried to visit. I’m always sent away. Blood relations and matching DNA shouldn’t define who one’s father is or is not, right? Joseph Graf Brillford will always be dad to me.
#4. Dropped off at thirteen for boarding school and never picked back up. It’s criminal. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder how my parents can sleep at night, throwing me away as if I were a dog. Hell, people in Manhattan treat their pets better.
#5. Sick with mono, those two months were worse than the plane crash. The abdominal pain was torture. All I ever wanted was to have my mom give me a cold compress, and sit with me, even if only for an hour.
#6. Juvi! Yup, six months wearing an orange jumper in a room with Lex and Vive would make anyone go cray-cray. (They’d kept Blake in another building.) I don’t regret standing up for Vive, I’d do again. The night her boyfriend Sanderloo started gay bashing Blake and she hit him with a shovel to try and get him to stop was the worst night of our lives. He’d died right there.
My regret was burying him. We didn’t call the police.
I should have never told my besties to act as though nothing had happened. I’m the one who suggested we all go on with our studies the next day. Utter selfishness got the worst of me. How? The courts would never approve of my separation hearing from my parents if they knew I was being tried for murder. Vive’s parents would’ve made her have an abortion when they found out she was pregnant. Blake would’ve been sent to the military academy down the street and tortured some
“I need a shower. Can you please take me to your room?”
Vive nodded and said in their direction, “Leon, I’ll catch you sexy boys, later. Oh and thank you for bringing Taddy back alive and in one piece.”
Concern creased Leon’s forehead. I could care less how he felt. Regret soured in my empty stomach. Never mind that I’d given up my Lady V. I had unprotected sex in the Atlantic Ocean and under a tree with a dude who had a boyfriend.
I wasn’t just fucked, I was screwed.
So Screwed!
“Whether you’re lusting or in love, crave boys or girls, desire monogamy or openness, sex for the first time can be a beautiful, scary, and an unforgettable experience. Why? Because it only happens once! For my VBF her Atlantic Ocean sexscapade wasn’t the beginning to an end. No, boo. Leon Lartigue had opened Taddy’s mind with fresh thoughts and desires. And if you know anything about Taddy, she’s a curious girl.” — Blake Morgan III, husband hunter, future father, and undecided college major.
TMI Moments
Eden Island
Unfrickin’ believable!
Giving the boys my best catwalk possible, I strutted my twice-fucked, unfed, sunburned bum toward the resort.
Too much for me to handle, I pressed my palm against my forehead.
Nope. My head hadn’t exploded. Not yet. One might say I’d seen and experienced too much in my eighteen years. Well duh!
I recapped the TMI moments of my life. In chronological order they are…
#1. Living on the Upper West Side in an apartment building that everyone knew my name and who my parents had swung with. Looking back on it now, the Brillfords must’ve been the laughingstock of the entire block. No wonder I was sent away.
#2. Having a mother that reeked booze, and I mean twenty-four-seven. At Avon Porter, kids would come back from the holidays with a bottle of their mother’s perfume. They told me that smelling the fragrance in their room, especially on their pillows, helped them to not get homesick. I sure as fudge wasn’t going to sniff a flask of bourbon. Yuk.
#3. Not knowing the identity of my birth-father isn’t that big of a deal. But having a man I loved, correction—still love—as a father who wants nothing to do with me, is a living nightmare. I’ve called, written letters, and tried to visit. I’m always sent away. Blood relations and matching DNA shouldn’t define who one’s father is or is not, right? Joseph Graf Brillford will always be dad to me.
#4. Dropped off at thirteen for boarding school and never picked back up. It’s criminal. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder how my parents can sleep at night, throwing me away as if I were a dog. Hell, people in Manhattan treat their pets better.
#5. Sick with mono, those two months were worse than the plane crash. The abdominal pain was torture. All I ever wanted was to have my mom give me a cold compress, and sit with me, even if only for an hour.
#6. Juvi! Yup, six months wearing an orange jumper in a room with Lex and Vive would make anyone go cray-cray. (They’d kept Blake in another building.) I don’t regret standing up for Vive, I’d do again. The night her boyfriend Sanderloo started gay bashing Blake and she hit him with a shovel to try and get him to stop was the worst night of our lives. He’d died right there.
My regret was burying him. We didn’t call the police.
I should have never told my besties to act as though nothing had happened. I’m the one who suggested we all go on with our studies the next day. Utter selfishness got the worst of me. How? The courts would never approve of my separation hearing from my parents if they knew I was being tried for murder. Vive’s parents would’ve made her have an abortion when they found out she was pregnant. Blake would’ve been sent to the military academy down the street and tortured some
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