Chapter ThirteenKeaton
It’s been two weeks since Slate and I began sleeping with each other, and it’s been perfect, far more educational than I ever expected. But tonight he has something different planned for us, and I can hardly wait.
I check my phone for the time and smile. I’ll be right on time. I tug at the hem of my cocktail dress, not enjoying the way my Uber driver’s seats scratch and pinch my thighs. Maybe the tight, slinky dress with its open back and dipping neckline is a little excessive for tonight’s events.
However, Slate insisted that I treat it like a “special goddamn occasion.” Tonight is the night we explore the various s****l positions many women have already mastered: doggy, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl . . . the list goes on.
“And, of course, some classic sixty-nine to
