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Step one of feminism: you did not have to be polite to people who were trying to abduct you in nothing but a thong. Maybe that should be steps one through five. There was a lot there to unpack.
“A family who all fuck, maybe.” Woah. Hold the fucking phone. Back that truck right the hell up and dump that load of what-the-hell right at my feet. “You what now?”
Modesty had packed her bags and left, and the only person left to man the ship was a wanton hussy.
I slammed my thighs around Gatlin’s head so hard that he probably heard the Bells of fucking Notre Dame inside his head, and I’d apologize later because right now they were driving me to insanity.
How did a woman act around a group of men she’d just had a mind-blowing orgy with? Did you give them high fives and swap sex tips? Reminisce about that time you watched them pound someone into the mattress? Was it still a walk of shame, or was it a stride of pride?
