My Goal Is To Teach Readers How

Watching A Make-out While Wrapped In A Blanket With A Guy She Wanted To Make Out With Made Her Feel Exposed. Obvious. Transparent. Like Her Thoughts Were Flashing Before His Eyes. Finally Brett Managed To Pull Away Without Consent Of Bekka's Lips. The Confusion Created A Sloppy Bite-a-juicy-peach Sound. Everyone Cringed.

Never Slam A Car Door. According To The Westchester Elite, It's A Heinous Crime, As Heartless As Kicking A Puppy.

I Was A Terrible Athlete And A Pretty Bad Student. I Couldn't Focus. My Imagination Was Always Racing.

When The Horse Was Little, Massie Had Covered The Walls With Posters Of Young Fillies That She Thought Brownie Would Find Sexy.

Kuh-laire, Is Cam A Fattening Girl Scout Cookie Layered With Peanut Butter And A Chocolate Coating? No. Then Dont Make Him A Tagalong!