“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re really good at sex,” she whispers. “I think about it all the time. I think there is something wrong with me.” “There isn’t. I think about it all the time too.” “Do you think it’s because we’re the perfect match?” “That and . . . my giant cock.” “Oh Jesus.” She swats at my chest and playfully pushes me away, but I take her hands in mine and pin them to her side.
