My hands trail along the spines of books that line the shelf on my wall. I’ve read most of them, but there are some that I haven’t. Some were bought on a whimsy in bright, big bookstores. And some them have been in my collection for years. Classics. But somehow they always seem too daunting to pick up.
I settle for fluff.
And not even a real book.
Rather, an eBook on kindle.
It’s a book I’d never buy in a real store. But thankfully, the people at Amazon have made anonymity in buying a lucrative business.
I look at the cover art. It’s always the same. Some woman in the arms of a more than attractive man. Because in these books, the men are always strong, always hot…and always well-endowed.
And the woman is always one of two things.
1.) So gorgeous her beauty must be divine – a gift from heaven (or whatever place the deity of the book resides). Or…
2.) Plain and shy. Painfully so. And so grateful that the hot man with the big cock is even paying any attention to her at all. Never mind the fact that he wants to put his big cock inside her.
I hope he puts it inside her soon.
And I’ll let you guess which one of those stereotypes I identify with.
“So did you get your invitation yet?” She asked.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
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