It was Valentine’s Day, and I didn’t have a boyfriend, which I was telling myself was actually pretty nice. The last boyfriend had gotten me a heart-shaped box of chocolates. I don’t like chocolates. I don’t like hearts. He had also written some ill-conceived poetry, comparing my face to the moon, or something. Or maybe he was comparing my boobs to the sun. Whatever. Keep reading »
Simply Irresistible
Frisky Chatter
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