When she was a little girl of 12
a boy told her
she doesn’t know
how to kiss.
He was sixteen,
had assumed she was older,
(She wore a bra after all)
so nothing seemed amiss.
He went on,
I’ll teach you
he said,
it’s not too late
but now you must learn;
And just like that
the illusion that
she was her parents’ perfect princess
came undone.
So a girl of 13,
she set out to find
How to kiss just right.
How to use her tiny tongue,
keep her lips left loose,
and her eyes shut tight…
Many Many takers
for the role of a teacher
she found,
boys and men
with wagging tails,
the smell of fresh meat
brought all the Wolves around…
And one by one they taught
the girl of 14
What was to be squeezed
and what was not.
Confused and eager,
on her knees she learnt,
how pleasure is to be given
but never to be sought.
And ever so often
her tiny body
was put to test…
To ensure she’d remember
all the reasons
why her best part
was her big chest.
And so when the little girl
became an old woman of 15,
she discovered another vagina
where her mouth
had been;
And was told her teeth
were useless for carnal pursuits!
In fact,
they must never be used!
And never ever
shall they ever meet,
unless she was smiling
for a nude selfie.
But when that not-so-little girl
turned 16, she met
a boy her own age…
Curly hair and guitar in his hands
his beliefs from a
rather respectable patronage.
They fell in a young love
the kinds that films promise
would happen sooner or later;
They kissed
and this time
she was better…
And transfixed by her “knowledge”
he went crazy about her touch…
Every act of intimacy was a first for him
even though she couldn’t claim as much.
Till one day he found out
the story behind
how she’d learnt to do her tricks.
And as he walked away
she asked him
if it was the way she kissed?
But he left without a word
and never looked back to see,
the tired woman left behind,
wondering what she had
still left to learn
about making a man happy.
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