That’s the schedule they sent me, and I think it’s ridiculous.’ ‘At least it’s a job.’ ‘That’s that I keep telling myself.’ ‘Ho...’d you find out about it anyway?’ ‘My family used to go apple picking every year until my dad died, you know.’ I nod, remembering the first time we met. Second year of college, and we both got into the elite Ann Arbour, Michigan Writers Collective. Two hours into a conversation about finding our elusive muses and the searing pain that is writers’ block, she got a. “You’re still dressed,” I exclaimed. Camille looked at me and smiled. “Of course.” She moved closer, stop for a short second, and pulled down my boxers. “You thought we were going to fuck?” she said and laughed lightly. “No silly. I’m going to fuck your dick. With this.” She pulled out something I immediately recognized as a Fleshlight. “Oh!” I said. I could feel my face turn red. My cock seemed nonplussed, as it twitched and bobbed right in front of her. “Oh, look at it,” Camille said and. More

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