Lick My Bush and Call me a Lady by Eloina Haines
Saving the Planet: One Bush at a Time
There is a 0.2second adjustment period when you look at my armpit. Even if you don’t know it happens, it happens. Maybe I’m imagining it. But why would I imagine it? Because I’ve been told what I’m doing is wrong. Because we are told that simply leaving our bodies to work for themselves is wrong. It sounds wrong that that’s wrong, right? Or wrong? Right. My luscious bushy rainforest is more ladylike than any deforestation project down there. My swelling, brimming breastmilk is more ladylike than your neat and bouncy student-goes-to-the-gym tits. My gushing, cussing menstrual blood and pains is more ladylike than your tampon concealed in your sleeve as you skirt off to the toilet praying that nobody knows. Praying that nobody sees the tiny little ball of cotton you are about to put in you. Praying that there’s no blood on your topshop jeans. Praying that your body wasn’t doing its job right now. BECAUSE GOD FORBID YOU ASKED FOR A TAMPON OUTLOUD IN FRONT OF THE LADIES AND THEIR GENTLEMEN FRIENDS. BECAUSE GOD FORBID GOD MADE YOUR BODY A BLOODY CYCLE TO OFFER YOU MAN CHILDREN…It’s un-ladylike.
If a hair on a lady’s armpit, a mother nourishing her child, or the mention of the cycle which bears life makes you come over all queasy then please, do me a favour and walk straight out of that door and fuck off because it’s about to get a whole lot worse for you my man/pretend-‘lady’ friend.
WARNING: An Uncensored and De-robed Female Body
...Get over it.
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