Well, what the fuck? I can be romantic. I think. I bought tampons, didn’t I? I flip a couple pages, skimming the words. It’s spicy, but I’d love to act it out on her. I read to myself as the man in the story porks his girlfriend. Cliffs Notes: he leaves hickies under her tits, rubs figure eights into her clit, puts her legs on his shoulders, fucks her till she screams for mercy, then professes his undying love to her. Piece of cake, I can do that. Well, except for the last one. Oh, and maybe skip the eye-darkening thing—whatever the fuck that means. The only way my eyes darken is getting in a
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