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Chapter 62: Towelfall
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... ike mangoes with commitment issues. His body trembled, not from exhaustion—though he was very much exhausted—but from something more potent: validation. The Clamazon tribe had not only spared him, they had approved of him. The towel, though slightly askew and damp with the sweat of restraint, remained draped around his waist like a silky medal of endurance.
Climaxa hovered beside him, fanning his cheeks with a leaf shaped like a sensual sigh. "You did good, Thrusticator. The jungle respe ...
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