There is always a moment when violating some dumb, young thing, fresh-faced and innocent, when they sober up and realize what trouble they are in. That things have spun out of control and their preconceptions of right and wrong and how the world works shatter. It’s a beautiful moment if you manage to catch it, like a meteor streaking through the sky, white-hot and then fading to nothing. I live for those moments and those dumb, soon-to-be-broken, girls.

I’ve always liked music festivals for that reason. Great sounds, easy access to drugs, barely legal girls and toys partying the night away. There is always plenty of freaky girls who want to let loose but if you can’t find one of them, there are dozens upon dozens of virgins about. Now, I don’t mean literal virgins, most have had a cock in their mouth or cunt. I mean festival virgins. Dumb cunts excited to try all manner of drinks and drugs, freely taking what is given to them, and mixing shit that shouldn’t be mixed. Just delicious.

Often they’ll be protected by friends, but there will still be plenty stumbling about. In tight clothes, miniskirts, or micro dresses, reveling in freedom as they dope themselves to oblivion. Hot skin needing to be touched, glazed eyes, their mouths ajar. Lost in the crowd, left behind and waiting for a shark to devour them. It’s always fun to help those lost girls and direct them to a better place, where they can be safe. Safe from prying eyes that is. I’ll always help myself to their bodies as I walk them to my van, feeling their ass, cupping their perky chests, listening to their soft moans. No panties, no bra, just a wet cunt and a vapid mind.