Penis fly trap

She wasn't Patricia, she wasn't a Patricia substitute, she was just a body, without spirit, without love or romance, just an exposed body with a pale valley of flesh, a penis fly trap, glowering at me in the harsh light.

"Yeah, I'm gonna go." He edged into the hall. "We won't mention the subject of your juice box again." Stone faced, she asked, "My what?" His hand curled around the knob. "Penis...fly trap?" It was like he had some sort of Tourette's.

[…] You need a real live date with a real live penis—your penis fly trap needs a snack! No offense.”