Here is a brief summary of some of the sexy sex you, yes you precious reader, can enjoy through Lilith’s no-dick-left-behind rampage across fantasy land. You can have a stranger biting and pulling your flesh with his teeth, presented in the sweetest possible way between poetry about “missing puzzle pieces” coming together. There’s an employer who has the gentlemanly good sense to pull out, and that classic sign of good sex: orgasm blindness. I think we’ve all been there. You might end up with some tag-team butt stuff if you take the right path through the story, but make a wrong turn and you’ll read about a fingering incident that leads to a horse disturbance. There’s some “moistening” going on in a hospital which, I don’t know, I’ve given up feeling anything about the word moist the same way I’ve given up on the figurative use of the word literally. Moist wins, and there’s nothing we can do about it. So how was it reading, or rather choosing, my way through this moist little book?

I am blind from reading the word moist.

Is it too late to pull out?