The saga of semen stained sheets continues.

SHIT, WAS THAT A BIT OF EYEBALL STUCK IN MY CLEAVAGE?

How I’d managed to sit still for the majority of the conversation and be controlled, without ripping my knickers off, throwing them over my head and swinging my bra around my fingers in a come and get me gesture, I had no idea.

Why I felt the need to always disobey everyone around me was beyond me. But I guess being sixteen years old made me susceptible to bouts of irrational behaviour and the occasional notion that I was in fact smarter than everyone else, regardless of whether or not that was true.