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Here is a short sample from the book:
My name is Jess Hudson. Not Jessie. Not Jessica. Jess. And this is my story.
My quest for passion began with online dating. It wasn’t like I had much choice in the matter. Something had to change.
All of my friends were married, unhappily, for one reason or the other, but not a one was satisfied. Not a one! During our weekly “bitch” sessions, also known as dinner, sex was described by my friends as dull, painful, boring, and my personal favorite: lasting too long.
In my world, it could never be long enough.
Tantric sex anyone?
As for me, I’d never married and only ever had one long-term boyfriend in college. Long-term meaning the relationship had lasted more than six months. His name was Brian. And the sex, you ask? It wasn’t worth writing home about. We only “did it” one way, and it wasn’t Gangnam Style. Once, after growing weary of doing it in the missionary position, I’d uncorked my nerve and suggested something new. I turned the shower on, and when the bathroom had achieved a smoldering level of sexy steaminess, I appeared in Brian’s room wrapped in nothing but a short, white towel. I’d twisted the edge in front a few times and plunged it into my cleavage, giving the illusion that my breasts were a full size bigger than they actually were.
When Brian finally tore his eyes away from the book he was reading after I’d cleared my throat not once, but two times, I donned my best sultry smile and beckoned him closer. To my surprise, he cocked his head to the side, lifting an eyebrow, and twisting his mouth as if to say, “What the hell are you doing?” He then flat-out refused, saying sex in the shower was overrated. He admitted he’d tried it with his last girlfriend. He hadn’t liked it. He saw no reason to try it again. It was wet and slippery, and he couldn’t “feel” anything. He further suggested I shower by myself, promising to be in bed waiting for me when I was done, after he’d finished studying for his history exam.
What a square.