“FUCK MY CAT!”

  “FUCK MY CAT!”

              The next time we hung out it was in a group setting.  It was me, her, and her two friends - a couple.  The three of them were sitting on the couch across from me.  I was sitting in a chair across from my feminist friend.  She eventually, after a few beers, excused herself from the couch and retreated within the house, within her room to change into pajamas.  I thought that was odd but I like lounging around in pajama bottoms just as much as the next person.

               She came back a couple minutes later, not in pajama bottoms, but in a full-on adult-sized Onesie.  A Onesie is a pajama style jumpsuit.  This particular garment made her appear to be an over-grown child dressed as a cow.

               She said not a word, but leaned back, her back deep into the couch, and she angled her muff up at me.  I couldn’t believe it was happening.  I was like a deer stuck in the headlights.  She peered up at me from behind her fortress – her outspread legs, her hands on her calves, her cunt pointed straight at my face.

               I looked at the guy friend, the boyfriend of the couple, and I watched as he tried to keep himself from laughing.  I looked at the chick friend, the girlfriend, and she kept a face that was straight as an arrow.  I think she was secretly terrified about the situation and thought acting normal was the best policy.

               I looked back from the couple, to my feminist friend’s face, her eyes, back down to her vagina.  I couldn’t believe she was really doing this.

               “Why won’t you fuck me?” she said.

               “I don’t get it.”

               “I want you to rip a hole in the crotch of this fucking cow,” she demanded, “this crotch with my female orgasmic fluid, my period blood, my shit, my pee all fucking stained into it.  Rip a whole in this used piece of toilet paper, this tampon, this dirty diaper, tear a whole in this cum rag and fill my dirty pussy up with your tobacco flavored cum!”

               I dragged my cigarette.  I looked at her.  Then I said, “No.”

               She picked up her cat angrily.  I knew she was going to do something extreme so I ran out the front door and down the driveway into the court.  I looked back.  She was following me.  I picked up the pace.  She kept up.  Then, without warning, she chucked, hurled the cat at me and shouted in a pathetic feminine whine, “Fuck my cat!”