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$ .d""b. .d""b. HOE E'ZINE #1063
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$ $ $ $ $ss$ "Fetch The Bone"
$ $ $ $ $ by Meenk
$ $ $ $ $ $ 04/18/00
[-- $ $ $ $ $ $ -- ------------------------------------------- --]
$ $ "TssT" "TssT"
I find myself becoming increasingly frustrated with the struggle
for equal rights for those with an alternate sexual lifestyle. All
around me I see barriers coming down allowing men and women who aren't
interested in standard, missionary, male-female sex to publically explore
their options, cohabitate, and even adopt children. Few people (outside
of the South, but then, Southerners fuck their siblings) even look twice
when two women show each other more than friendly affection anymore.
Even those inbetween genders, naturally as well as intentionally, are
becoming freer to flaunt their sexual deviance, and in some cities, no
longer even draw the attention of their neighbours. Men can lop off their
organs and become lesbians, while a butch dyke has the freedom to walk
proudly through the streets with a package marked "DeLux Strap-On Dildo,
With Harness", without the fear of being jailed. Everyone wins when
sexual oppression is lifted, right?
Not so. I do not claim that these freaks should not be allowed to
carry on like the ancient Greek, but I do feel bitter when I see them
free as birds, holding hands and stealing kisses while walking down the
street. I can't help but feel pangs of sorrow when the one I truly love
has to remain so distant whenever we venture outside. Sure, I can reach
out and touch him, even profess my love, and no one would try to
intervene. If I were to wrap my arms around him, stare into his eyes,
and give him a single, lingering kiss, everyone in sight would gawk, make
a comment, or worse. This isn't fair.
When we are home, our love is sweet. We can cuddle, kiss, and be
intimate without fear. He can be free to nuzzle my breasts, lick my
thighs, and even bury his face in my most private places and not worry
about being taken away. Behind our closed doors, my gentle doberman and
I hide our passion, but our love cannot be contained. Tree-hugger animal
rights activists may complain that an animal cannot give consent, but it
is usually he that makes the first move. How can I tell him no when he
tries to mount me, while staring me down with his deep brown eyes? I
always give in and offer up whichever hole he chooses, either to his
velvety soft tongue, or huge throbbing cock. Whichever he chooses, he
never leaves me unfulfilled. He is completely loyal, would never tell me,
"It's not you, it's me", and never EVER leave me for some bar maid with a
bad dye job and fake tits. We have such an amazing bond, yet if I were
to take my beloved dog on a date, they wouldn't even let us in the
restaurant, let alone give us a nice private booth where we can enjoy a
nice meal and share a dish of mousse. We would be forced to get take-out
and eat in seclusion.
With so few relationships surviving over a period of years, why
can't we, and others like us, be afforded the same rights anyone else in
love receives by law? We shouldn't have to hide. Other women like myself
are able to strut around with a hairless monkey, and they are protected
because they are considered "inter-racial", yet the only difference
between their mates and my own is that mine chooses to walk on all four
feet. Well, that, and mine can do tricks.
In conclusion, I feel the real animal lovers should be granted the
same freedom from persecution as these couples. If not, they should at
least be required to keep their primates on a leash.
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[ (c) HOE E'ZINE -- http://www.hoe.nu HOE #1063, BY MEENK - 4/18/00 ]