‘I imagine kissing Jacob and he tells me that he loves the taste of my mouth, then asks me casually if my cunt tastes just as good? Shaking, I inform him that there’s really only one way to find out, and he moves his pretty face between my legs to do just that. I dig my fingers into his hair and gasp. Afterwards, he stands and wipes the corner of his mouth with his thumb. “The answer is no,” he says. “I found that far superior to conventional kissing, didn’t you?” Yes, Mr. Frye, I certainly did.’