Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95173 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
“He broke it,” I say into the phone.
“Oh my God, what did he say to you? Are you okay?” she asks in a panic. “I am leaving right now,” she says, and she hangs up the phone, and I cry into the pillow. I don’t know where she was, but she’s here in twenty minutes. She comes running down the hall, and she gasps when she steps into my room. I’m lying in the middle of the bed, naked, with my toys surrounding me. The treasure chest was knocked over at some point, and her mouth hangs open when she spots porn on the television. “What in the fuck is happening right now?”
“He broke it,” I say, sobbing so hard that snot is running out of my nose.
“Who broke what?” she asks, afraid to even come into the room.
“My vagina,” I say, pointing at it. “My vagina is broken.” She looks at me shocked. “I can’t orgasm,” I say, putting my head back. “I’ve tried for the past twelve hours and nothing. Nothing, not this one,” I say, holding up my rabbit. “Not the dolphin,” I say, lifting that one and tossing it to the side. “Not even the dual pleasure can get me there.”
“Oh my God,” she says, and she still doesn’t move from the doorway.
“Karrie, you need to check,” I tell her frantic now. “You need to check and see if anything is broken inside.” I open my legs.
“I am not checking your vagina!” she shrieks, holding her hands up to block her eyesight. “Jesus, can you cover it?”
“I would do it for you,” I tell her, and then she shakes her head. Finally entering, she goes straight for the television and turns it off right before the woman has a squirting orgasm.
“This room smells of rubber,” she says, and she tosses me my kimono. “You need to take a shower,” she says, grabbing one of my shirts and then picking up all the sex toys scattered around the room. “Are those anal beads?” she asks me. “How many butt plugs does one person need?”
“You can take all those home. I don’t need them,” I say, getting off the bed. “I’m broken.”
“One, I’m not taking your sex toys home, and two, you aren’t broken. Maybe you just weren’t in the mood,” she says, and she tosses the T-shirt down and looks around. “I can’t even sit down.” She throws her hands up. “Go shower and don’t use the showerhead.” She points at me and walks out of the room. I take a shower, my whole body hurting me, and I find her in the kitchen heating up some food.
“I’m exhausted,” I tell her, sitting down. “My arms feel like hundred-pound weights.”
“You need to drink. You might be dehydrated,” she tells me.
“I think he broke me for all other men,” I tell her, grabbing the plate of pasta she put in front of me.
“You are not broken,” she says. “But I need you to promise me right here and now that you will never again call me crying about your vagina being broken.”
“It is,” I tell her, and the tears almost come again. I look down at myself. “And I’ve been told I have a nice vagina on top of that.”
“By who?” Karrie says. “It looks normal.”
“One year, I spray painted it the color of the French flag,” I say, and she just looks at me. “Then when we went into the hot tub, the paint floated to the top.”
“Oh my God.” She laughs now.
“His parents were less than thrilled,” I tell her. “I was so carefree and so was my vagina.” I take another bite. “You know what I can do? Lure him into having sex with me.”
“Well, if you take a picture of your dungeon back there, I can guarantee he’ll run over here,” Karrie says while she eats her pasta.
“You think so?” I ask her. “Maybe I could send a picture of me pleasuring myself,” I say, and her eyes go big. “Well, without the pleasure part.”
“Promise me that you will never do that,” she says. “One of the guys went to send a dick pic to a girl on Snapchat, and he put it on his story instead.”
“Oh my God, was he big?” I ask her, and she just shrugs.
“I don’t have Snapchat. Matthew told me,” she says. “Speaking of, I should call and tell him I’m still in the city.”
“What were you even doing here?”
“Going over the Halloween party with Zara. It’s a good thing she didn’t come with me. There is no way we could explain all that.”
“Oh, please, she has enough sex. How do you think she got pregnant?” I tell her. The rest of the afternoon flies by, and when she leaves, I walk back into the room and put all my toys back into the box and set it aside. Maybe Karrie is right, I think to myself and then walk to my computer and type up a blog post. When I finish it, I turn it off and make plans to go straight to sleep. It doesn’t take me long before I find him in my dreams.