You see, in school they taught anatomy with a male model. Breasts were on occasion mentioned but never permitted to be seen, at risk of damaging fresh-teen eyes. Fearful of the risk of over-exposing young brains to what even they, in their infancy relied on for life, the breast was often given just a dry description.
‘A glandular milk-producing dual-organ located on the chest.’
The drooling speech of the tweed-suited teacher was promptly suffocated by the sniggers that rippled from boy to boy. In the same way that pre-historic fish grew legs, there grew the roots of what was to come; teen-hood, adulthood, manhood…an ever evolving complex powered by the notorious perfumes of the night. The missionaries of apocalyptic sex…
From then, I could taste the snake,…its tail was in my mouth…if you know what I mean.
As the ripple died down, and the teacher moved on to glorifying the function of the penis in the miracle of reproduction, my body shed a layer of skin, I could feel it run down my legs and settle on the classroom floor.
Let us not recount the trauma that ensued when the tweed-teacher’s pointer reached the vulva .
About the Creator
Alyssia Balbi
Hey, I am Australian and I am around 22 years old...I love to write, on my deck, with a cup of tea...this is just my being really, I am sure you will not judge. Thank you for coming here.
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