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September 3, 2010
I would be naked if not for these clothes. They keep getting in the way, tangling with the sheets, twisting around me like restraints.

"Don't do this." they beg me. "Don't. Don't. Don't."

I yank the shirt off. The shorts. Fumble with my bra.

"Shut up," my fingers say, "I'll do what I want."

"Oh, no," the socks sob and try to slip off me and hide in the blanket before my hands can abuse them, "you'll really regret this, you know."

The sun peeks in through the window, shaking her head and blushing.

"Naughty girl. So very very naughty."