“Take me out. Do it nice.” She squeezes her eyes shut. And it’s like that electric line from class is still connecting us because I can feel her caving in to me, now—I recognize it with a rush of emotions I can’t define. She moves her hands down to my pants. I watch as her nimble fingers undo my button, and then my zipper. “Nicely,” she says. “What?” I ask, heart pounding. “Do it nicely. The word is nicely, motherfucker.” Oh, Jesus. She’s pulling me out and I almost come right there.
