Society told you this was just as normal as any other woman, but you now understand they were wrong. As you near climax, you snake your hand slowly toward the nightstand, careful to not touch the slimy dialtors stood like soldiers at attention. You fumble blindly for a second and then feel the cold steel of the revolver tucked away in the drawer. You slip it slowly and silently up and out, thanking Dawkins you keep it loaded. Raising the barrel to your temple as a man felates you, small stinging tears form at the corners of your eyes. You pull the trigger as you climax, brains and ♥♥♥ shooting in opposite directions.

YEET YEET YEET YEET