From I Am Not an Allegory
(these are people i know)
by Libby Emmons

Jess is at her place, with a webcam, with fresh veggies.


I do a nudey webcam so I can stay home and raise my son. While he naps I stick vegetables in my vagina and pretend I’m coming just so I can stay home with him. He is my dream. He is actually my dream.

Sometimes it’s not pretend. Sometimes if the viewer pays extra I give them the real experience.

I used to make artwork. Then I got pregnant and I was proud that I would be both an artist and mother. But it turns out the only thing I want to be is a mother. I don’t care about art anymore and of course that makes me feel guilty, and I don’t know how to explain to my son “mommy didn’t want to be an artist anymore, she just wanted to be with you,” without sounding pathetic. I would have thought my mother was pathetic if she said that to me. And I know I’ll want to do art again, I’m just in this like baby bliss right now and even though it feels like it will last forever I know it won’t.

You see mothers who have children at their sides and it is clear that they have Got Over It. But I know that while it lasts I don’t want to do anything else. So I bought a webcam. I didn’t do it to be shocking. And I am not, y’know, managed by anyone. Plus it’s not like I have to actually have sex with anyone. I was always better at masturbation than sex anyway. I get to this point in sex where like I just need to focus if I’m going to orgasm, and I can’t focus with a dick in my mouth.

Jess felates a cucumber.

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