It makes me feel good. It makes me excited. It makes me feel alive. But I must stop. It makes me feel vulnerable. It makes me feel weak. It makes me feel disgusted with myself.

It seems like it was a natural step. Of course I was the late bloomer. But one taste of that sweet sweet sweetness, I was hooked. I wanted more and more. And it wasn’t because I couldn’t control myself. I just was happier. With my life.
“It’s too much of a risk,” I told Eddie.

“Lenny, look. If you’re careful, you’ll be fine.” Eddie flew around me. “You ain’t bad lookin’. You gotta suck some time! You gotta stick that shit into someone already.”
“I don’t think I’m ready. I don’t want some disease.”
“Disease this!” He smacked my head with 3 of his legs.

I remember my first victim. She was 5. I could smell her age. She had a sweaty strawberry scent. She should be clean. Her blond pigtails and anti-spill cuppy said so.

I remember circling around her. Debating whether to just fly away or land. Then I couldn’t decide which part of her I should land on. I remember Eddie telling me the butt was the most satisfying. But that is a myth.

I liked her. She didn’t notice me like most people do. She let me fly around her. Be close to her. I felt comfortable. I felt safe. I was never that physically close to a human being before and right then I understood. I understood what the big deal was all about.

It wasn’t just the taste of it. It’s the moment when you realize you can keep part of someone inside of you for a little bit. I decided to learn her name before I stick whatever to whomever.
I landed on Tiffany’s arm. Probably the basic place to start. I didn’t want to try something fancy… or make a fool of myself. She didn’t notice. I liked that. Her scent was intrigued me. I couldn’t even think. I caressed her skin with my… 8 legs? Hell, I couldn’t even remember how many legs I had!

I don’t even remember how it happened. But it did. It was a little painful at first, but it felt good. And after a while it felt real good. Heaven. When I released, I tried to look at her face. See how she felt. She didn’t give a reaction. In fact I think she didn’t noticed I did it to her.

Disappointed, I flew away. I turned around to take one more look at Tiffany. And there she was scratching her arm. Scratching it like she’s ready for lift off. Scratching it till she was crying.”

I had a mixture of feeling stimulation, accomplishment and sorrow. And from that day on I did not try to find out what their names were.

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