Rach was the chick you roomed with at Smith. At first you were freaked out and referred to her as a “geeky butch” to your scrawny vegan boyfriend. Then you fell fall apart if she didn’t pay you enough to you. Drunk one night you crawl into bed with her, she brushes away your bangs, gently kisses your forehead, and asks if you’re sure “you want to do this?” You quiver and say you’re “not sure”.
By 3am Rach is balls deep in your kitty-cage.
