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384 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published May 1, 1998
"pert beige nipple—cleft—her nipple distended—preferred morsel—beaded peak—downey mound—slippery pearl—hugging sheaf—hot wet velvet glove—magic button—blew sky high like the grand finale of the pyrotechnics of America convention—came in scolding pulsations"
She longed to smack him, to get away from him. To kiss him silly, yank down his pants, and climb onto his lap. Moaning, she bent forward and rested her forehead on her bare knees.
'Oh, please, this is too pitiful. Can’t you find a better place to have an identity crisis than sitting in a bathroom stall with your undies down around your ankles?'
Guys are a lot like kitchen floors—lay ’em right the first time and you can walk all over them for years.