She sighs and stretches, her robe falling open.
“Hey!” she exclaims as the cat jumps on her laptop screen, pulling against the hinge. “We’ve talked about this, it’s rude!” The cat does not care. Tell me stories, the cat miaows. Later, she miaows back.
She takes a sip from her vodka-bitters-pub-squash-grapefruit medley. Is there even a name for this? I don’t care, it’s delicious.
“Would you like another one?” her gorgeous, bearded man in bunny pyjamas asks.
“Why yes, please! Writing this much erotica is hard…”
“I can tell, I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long!”
“Me too. I’m out of ideas. Does it count if I write naked?”
A true story
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