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Seven sit around a fire, burnt marshmallows on two foot sticks stuck between grahams, talk sex and film. Had her naked like Kate Winslet, not Titanic Kate, but Little Children Kate. Anal on the washing machine behind Jennifer Connelly's back. But the part about Madame Bovary, who really needs feminist literature in a feminist film? Okay, maybe it's classic romantic... I felt lost like a pebble sinking in the ocean five miles deep in the Puerto Rican trench. I hadn't seen either movie nor was I well versed in feminism or romance. My mind drifted to my first time. Started with a french kiss from a Latina girl, at a house on Cleveland Ave, I wish I could remember more.
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Written by
don-brenner
Published
Oct 4, 2010
Lines·Words
28·120
Notes

2009

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