Orange soda was easy. It was step one. Step two was mind-fucking her into oblivion to figure out her hard limits. I didn’t have hard limits. Unless you counted cuddling, spooning and heaven fucking forbid canoodling. Frankly, anything that ended with an ing that didn’t start with fuck was a solid no from me. I didn’t kiss, I tongue-fucked. I didn’t caress, I clawed. I didn’t go down on girls, I feasted on them.
