C*cky Author

by Fettucine Holliday

His face is like something I’ve seen in a magazine—in fact, I could’ve sworn I’ve seen it a thousand times, like it’s been on a lot of book covers because that’s something any reasonable person expects when they purchase a non-exclusive license. He just has that stock photo kind of face.

Omg!!!!! I’m crying!!!!!! #epic

There’s a word. Five letters. Kind of… like… a penis? It’s on the tip of my tongue, but I just can’t come out with it for some unknown reason.

Lolololololololol I love this author!!!!

The lady garden between my legs, which was dry as the Sahara, Gobi, and all the other deserts combined, moistens up like a nice angel food cake at Mark’s words. It’s a real slick roast beef situation down there if you know what I mean.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

“I’m going to get naked now,” he says to me, real serious-like. “I’ve got a big one down there, though, so I just have to warn you in advance. You might scream when you see it.”

I swear I’m crying and my sides hurt from laughing so hard!

He has thick, muscular thighs like a Russian Olympian who cheated with drugs.

Jeeze Lolololololol

“Oh my god!” I cry out, trembling all over as I crescendo into a very unlikely quick orgasm, but what can I say, I’m a lady who pulses for a conveniently easy and contrived plot moment.

Lolololololololol I’m sorry my notes are like this BUT lolololololol