Amber Cooper is a 21-year old graduate of Yale College. Amber double-majored in History and Economics. She has wavy blonde hair, brown eyes, and 32 sharp teeth.
Amber Cooper’s Tinder profile has four pictures. In the first, she’s surrounded by cheerful green trees somewhere in Vermont. Her shirt is beige, and her shorts are brown. Her hiking socks are pulled up mid-calf. Her thumbs are hooked in the straps of her blue Osprey backpack. There’s a spot of dirt on her left cheek and her hair is disheveled, but she’s smiling brightly. Her teeth are really very white.
In the second picture, she’s at a party. It’s from her freshman year. She remembers the party only faintly. Amber’s head is tilted back in a gleeful laugh—the audience can see into her nostrils (they’re very clean) and the back of her throat (it’s very red).
The third picture shows Amber working in a white, naturally-lit office. She’s sitting down at a desk. Amber’s blonde hair is straightened, and she wears a generic navy blazer. It could be a stock photo but for her lip. Her bottom lip has been chewed bright red. Her friends told her it was hot, and Amber agreed.
Adam Jacobson swiped right before he saw her fourth photo.
Their first date was at a movie theater in Brooklyn. It was constructed in 2009 but was styled to look vintage. Its marquee was brand new and bright and read, “NOW PLAYING.”
Adam bought Amber’s tickets, which Amber expected as Adam was tall and white and graduated from Texas A&M. Amber had dressed herself accordingly, in a demure off-white dress and kitten heels. She was really rather good at this.
When she saw him, she smiled, sweet and slow, moving in half time. Her shiny pink lip gloss made him lick his lips. Amber’s lips were plump and juicy.
Midway through Paul Blart: Mall Cop, Adam’s hand crept between her thighs. Afterwards, they had sex in his tan Jeep. Adam was in the passenger’s seat, and Amber sat on top of him, eyes closed. She rolled her hips like she was a boat on an ocean of former football player flesh.
Amber’s lip gloss shone on her lips. Adam—on a whim—decided to put his index finger into her mouth.
Amber opens her brown eyes. She looks at him.
Adam feels her warm, wet tongue licking the sides of his finger. She grips his hand, holding it up to her mouth. Her head tilts down. Now she’s sucking on the finger, sucking…
ADAM: —Shit, it kind of tingles. Ow.
She’s sucking too hard.
ADAM: Amber, lighter.
[CRUNCH CRUNCH noise]
Amber Cooper’s pearly whites are covered in a thin layer of blood. She looks up at Adam, and smiles.
“You are just so delicious.”
Adam Jacobson’s face is bright red. Involuntary tears stream down his cheeks. His nose is running. Both of his hands shake. He’s vomited some popcorn he purchased two hours ago. His eyes twitch with his pulse. There is only the stump. He can’t feel anything else.
Well. Actually, he can feel his dick. It’s still hard, inside of her. But she’s stopped moving.
Amber Cooper starts moving again. Without thinking, Adam’s right hand slides to her waist. His left is still gripped by Amber. The warm blood drips onto the skirt of her dress.
Adam looks at her shiny, red lips. He puts another finger into her mouth.