Burning Giraffes

Aries: “Welcome,” he said, shoving my hair hard, “to the butt room.”

Taurus: “No way,” I cried out orgasmically. “No way, no way, no way.”

Gemini: “When I woke up Christian Grey had somehow gotten an entire orange into my mouth.”

Cancer: “Say it,” he commanded. “Yankity Spankity.” “Louder.”

Leo: “He gently handcuffed me to the parking meter. “Bye.”

Virgo: “The helicopter was built for sex, I observed sexily. You could lie across the seats or recline them.”

Libra: “Christian Grey picked up the long black thing and started working my zone. It was bananas.”

Scorpio: “The sex feelings flooded my body like a charging herd of itty, bitty elephants. We’re talking small.”

Sagittarius: “Do I afraid you?” Christian Grey asked, licking his eyebrow.”

Capricorn: “It’s a Murphy Bed,” he explained. “Maybe one day we could leave it up and have sex in the walls.”

Aquarius: “Christian Grey mashed on my area with the meat of his hand. “Do you like that, you woman?”

Pisces: “Hey,” I asked “Didn’t you used to be a vampire?”

How To Be A Responsible Adult: A Tutorial 

Writer Fights #2

Edward Hopper