‘I want to wait in a back room of some seedy place until Jacob is fresh out of a fight club bout, bloody but victorious. When he comes in, he closes the door, and doesn’t even clean off – he just sits down, undoes his trousers, and strokes himself until he’s hard enough to let me fuck myself on his dick until we’re both spent and sweaty. He can leave some bruises from holding onto my hips, I don’t mind. I wouldn’t mind either if he wanted to eat me out after, if he still had the energy.’