“Sorry about the breasts,” he said nervously, stepping to the side so he could face me. I took a peek at the cartoon lady’s cleavage, which I hadn’t noticed before. “I didn’t mean to draw them so large. I don’t want people to decide I’m one of those guys who thinks a woman amounts to a set of breasts.”
I felt a flush in my own, relatively generous, chest. “It’s okay, Ned. Hey, women have breasts. And breasts are nice, right?” I laughed, more self-consciously than I was used to in my workplace.
The Pleasure Dial continues to receive the kind of praise that makes me walk around with a cartoonish grin all day long:
"Jeremy is gifted at combining humour and erotic elements in a rollicking good story. No easy task. His latest story, The Pleasure Dial, is a real treat and it instantly zipped me out of my own head, and kept me glued to the fun." [Saskia Walker, via Goodreads.]