I'm not a good man, and I've never pretended to be. I don't believe in goodness or God or any happy ending that isn't paid for in advance. In fact, I've got my own personal holy trinity: in the name of money, sex, and Macallan 18, amen.
So when the gorgeous, brilliant Zenny Iverson asks me to teach her about sex, I want to say yes, I really do. Unfortunately, there are several reasons to say no—reasons that even a very bad man like myself can't ignore.
1. She's my best friend's little sister.
2. She's too young for me. Like way too young.
3. She's a nun. Or about to be anyway.
But I want her. I want her even with my best friend and God in the way, I want to teach her and touch her and love her, and I know that makes me something much worse than a very bad man.
It makes me a sinner.
"I want to know if you scream or if you moan when you come; I want to know if you prefer my mouth or my hands; I want to know if you like it deep and slow or fast and hard."
"This is your c*nt, sweetie, and it needs to stay happy. It needs to be licked and kissed and petted. Doesn't it ache now? Doesn't it need something?
"My little nun is so wet for me."
