Do nothing

Faith discards her towel and drops down, her knees hitting you straight in the stomach. As you gasp for air, she grabs your face between her hands. “Well, if you’re not going to communicate, I guess we can skip the foreplay and go straight to the ****.” She slaps your cheek hard, and then starts to remove your remaining clothes. “Now, there are five basic **** groups,” she says, as she finishes undressing you, and looks down at your testicles, “blunt, sharp, hot, cold and loud.”

She bends over you and looks down at your face, then rips off the tape covering your mouth. “Any preference?”