It was a pleasure reading this fanfic, Im from Spain.

This is so sweet and hot! LOVE :)
But for real, you really nailed Cosima, I could visualize her initiating Delphine into the magical world of sex with women SO easily. Sure made me wish MY first time was with Cosima. Or every time. Obvs.

This was fantastic, marvelous! Oh and the s... scenes... very juicyI can't wait to read part two

Wow, great start, I'm definitely intrigued.

Oh. How very thoughtful of you. So this is chapter one of the sequel. I see what you did there.

Alright. I'll leave a separate review here, but I'll wait to read the actual chapter, when I'm actually at the sequel. Does that make sense? I'm tired. Please, bear with me, as I'm about to lose my pituitary gland...mind, I meant mind.

I think I devoured this story in what, 2, 3 days? And for each chapter, I left a unique review. Holy Watershed, Batman! I haven't written anything of this extravagant portions since University, I think. And even then, my heart wasn't really into it; but this, I poured my heart, my soul, my gut, and parts of my uterine lining, out. I hope you enjoyed my reviews, as much as I enjoyed posting them. I don't like it when people leave generic reviews, cause they seem impersonal and detached. And seeing how you wrote this in 2013, and I'm essentially 2 years too late to the party, it would be f*cking high of me, if I wrote dumb-arsed sh*t like, "Woah. That's really good. Hope you post a new chapter soon!" Yeah. That kind of generic reviews can suck camel milk.

I honestly enjoyed this story. I don't know what else to say, that I haven't already said in the past twenty-one reviews. I feel like we have this deep, meaningful, and fictitious relationship. I guess what I'm trying to say is: will you fictionally marry me? Huh. What? Your heart belongs to another? You don't feel the same way about this delusional and erroneous relationship as I do? I see. Okay. I guess I'll have to keep this platonic, then. Man. This is sadder than the day I realized Rose Byrne was taken.

I swear, you have the midas touch. You managed to make 20 questions sexy and that isn't an easy feat. The last time I played 20 questions, it didn't end too well. It was more than 20 questions. And it wasn't yes or no questions. And the guy was throwing A TON of accusations my way. The guy was a cop. Under the advisement of my legal counsel, I didn't answer any of his questions, though. I know it was you, Aunt Mabel, you snitch! I know it's you! This time when I push you, again, I will finish the job! Oh, my. Excuse me. My emotions got the better of me.

Holy Watershed, Batman! When Cosima asked Delphine if she liked to go down on her, and Delphine said yes, and proceeded to do so. That was f*cking sexier than Jordana Brewster. Delphine might enjoy it now, but down the road, she's going to get hurt. I hope she has insurance. Until Lesbian Bed Death kicks in, there's a lot of potential injuries one can suffer when going down under: locked jaw, dislocated jaw, oral yeast infection, desensitized taste bud, and she could potentially lose an eye from a stray pube. Yep. You read that right. The right pube, at just the right angle, and BAM, you'll be able to whistle in one eye from now on.

I know this is their last night together, and basically Delphine's last day in the country, but was it really necessary to destroy Delphine? Holy Watershed, Superman! Cosima was like the energizer bunny, she kept going, and going, and going. Cosima basically destroyed any chance Delphine has of walking tomorrow. I am willing to bet you my entire collection of pet rocks, that Delphine won't be able to walk properly. She'll be achy in all the wrong places, and it'll look like she has something stuffed up her anus. When you're at an international airport, it's best not to walk funny, like you actually have something shoved up your anal canal, cause you're just asking for trouble.

How many f*cking orgasms did Delphine have?! Jesus. I got lost counting them. I lost track after I turned left onto Birchmount Road. I think I should've made a left on Roddick Drive, but who knows, I wasn't reading the signs; I got distracted trying to count Delphine's orgasms.

I'm quite sad this story is drawing to an end. And you know what, I'll be equally as disappointed, if this bottle of wine, Alpha Omega Cabernet Sauvignon, doesn't make an appearance in your sequel. Yes. I know you have a sequel. Yes. I will follow you there. And practically anywhere else, for that matter. Just text or call me, and I'll ride my shopping cart there, to meet you, if I have to.

For some odd reason, it sounds like Josie and I should become best friends. I mean, why the Hell not? She's obviously unstable, and I'm constantly unhinged. Who writes a love letter, if anything, to confess their love, nowadays, anyway? I mean, did Josie write this love letter in blood? Oh. Better yet, she wrote it using only her menstrual blood. That way, it's more "special". And when she ended the letter, she left a lock of her hair inside, as a symbol of her love for Cosima. And by hair, I mean pubic hair. Yes. Josie lopped off a lock of her pubic hair.

This push and pull game Cosima and Delphine was playing in this chapter was freaking hot. Are you kidding me? I love it when Cosima fazed Delphine, and her ministrations, out and pretended everything was normal. I constantly faze people and voices, mainly voices, out and pretend everything is normal, too. It's like you see right through me.

Ho! Ho! Look who it is, it's my favorite secondary character, Dan. That boy is a real hard worker, isn't he? I swear, there are 3 secondary characters I'm absolutely obsessed with. Obsessed! The order is as follows: Charles, Walking Man Joe, and Dan. Charles cause he's an arrogant prick that has his pants pulled up to his nipples, and he's always farting. Walking Man Joe, well, cause he's homeless, and he constantly yells, "Move bitch, get out the way!" And Dan, because I secretly suspect he lives at this hotel as a squatter. Oh. And he's the bastard love child of Charles and his mistress. But that's another story, for another time.

When Delphine flipped Cosima around like a pancake, and rode her from behind...well, I don't want to brag, but what did I tell you. It's their 5th date, and they're finally doing butt-stuff. When couples first start off, they can't go right into it. No. They have to wait, and build up to it. And when the time comes, bam, butt-stuff.

Delphine did an absolutely normal thing. Yup. She waited for Cosima to leave, and then she proceeded to rummage through her things. But she did it in a respectful, non-invasive manner. That takes a lot of self-control, I tell you what. If Cosima had left me at her place, alone, I would rummage through her drawers, play with her underwear, wear her hats, eat her food, mismatch her socks, switch the labels for the salt and sugar, etc. But then again, if you're comfortable enough to leave someone at your place unsupervised, there's a certain level of trust. None of my friends trust me. But I don't think it's because they don't trust me; it's because they know I'm crazy. Oh, and I'm Batman.

So, many people don't know this, but Canada has two official languages: English and French. And unless you live in Quebec, you won't use French too frequently. But even so, French is mandatory from grade four, until you reach grade 10, I believe. So that's seven years of French we had to take. Seven years! That's the same amount of years for possession of a class B narcotic with intent to distribute; assault causing bodily harm; arson with damage of greater than $50,000 to property! I still can't speak a lick of French. I can say cat and dog, and mushrooms, but that's about it. All the French you have in this chapter, went straight over my head. You might as well write in Elvish language. You know, from middle Earth, Lord of the Ring? Oh, never mind.

If Cosima had gone to France two years earlier, there's a possibility they might have met, but the chances are slim, to none. I just checked. Paris has a population of 2.2 million. And Toronto has a population of 2.6 million. The chances of Cosima meeting Delphine in Paris, is 1 in 2.2 million. The odds are not in her favor. Hell. I've been a life long Torontonian, and I've yet to run into Tatiana Maslany, Évelyne Brochu, Anna Silk, Zoie Palmer, Charlotte Sullivan, or any of the cast members of Saving Hope. It sucks, too. It's really bring down your self esteem as a stalker.

This chapter has an interesting take on the subject of love. I don't know. Love at first sight sounds oddly romantic, but in terms of practically, I don't think it's feasible. When you first lay eyes on a person, the only thing you're drawn to, at that point, is the person's appearance, and perhaps to a lesser degree, their sense of fashion. But it's mainly the appearance. Beauty fades. So if you start a relationship based on love at first sight, and that beautiful face you first laid eyes upon, begins to fade, will your love follow? Damn. That was deep. I would like to believe in love at first sight, but no, I don't think it exist. But you know what does exist? Hate at first sight. Holy Watershed, Batman! You have no idea how many people I hate, to the core and beyond, based on nothing but first impression. Let's see. I hated my 6th grade teacher at first sight, my next door neighbor's son at first sight, my friend's girlfriend (now wife), my best friend's stupid tattoo, etc.

Cosima is laying it all out there: adopting cats, U-hauling, reading in bed, and then she brought out the big guns: lesbian bed death. Oh. No. We have lost so many good lesbian to LDB. Each year, more than 100,000 relationship die from LDB alone. To prevent LBD, early detection is important. Talk to your family doctor about getting tested.

But in all honest truth, I really like your (Delphine's) take on the subject of love at first sight. Maybe it isn't so much love, as it is a spark, and a desire to set things in motion. That's a refreshing take. I don't think I've ever heard someone put it that way. But then again, that same take can also be applied to an arsonist. Get it? Spark? Set in motion? Up in flames? Oh, never mind. I ruin moments, okay. That's me. The a ruiner! I ruined this touching moment, just like I ruined my parent's marriage.

Delphine doesn't smoke pot often. Every time she does, she gets crazy emotional. She's not the paranoid, gets the munchie type, she's the ball your eyes out, and writes tortured poetry type. While they're hot and heavy, and in the midst of getting it on, Delphine reaches for Cosima, and asked if she was real. It's as if she was having an inception moment. Like what's real isn't really present, so it can't be there, but it is there, so this has to be reality. I never did get the ending to Inception, so I have no idea what I'm talking about. Till this day, I still don't know if Leonardo DiCaprio was in a dream state, or in reality. Sigh. One of the great mysteries of life.

I've never been to San Francisco, but I've heard nothing but good things about the place. It's in California, so I can't imagine the city being too cold, even during the winter months. Would it make sense to have a fireplace, then? I don't know. But you know what would make sense? Having a bread maker. Think about it. Fireplace and bearskin rugs are sexy, but there's nothing sexier than food. The smell of fresh baked bread is the single, greatest aroma in the world. Plus, Delphine's French. She would appreciate a good loaf of homemade bread, or maybe even a baguette. Plus, fireplace installation and bearskin rugs don't come cheap. Cosima's in school, remember? But a bread maker? Black and Decker bread maker? $49.99. Cup of coffee? $2.50. Butter? $3.00. Jam? $7.00. The look on your girlfriend's face, when you make her fresh bread for breakfast, then proceed to have awesome morning sex? Priceless.

When Cosima disappeared into the bathroom, for such a long duration, I honestly thought she snuck out the washroom window. But then I remembered, wait, this is her house. Why would she be running from her own place? See! This is what happens when I don't get enough sleep, and not enough caffeine in my blood.

~ Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows,
~ Everything that's wonderful is what I feel when we're together,
~Brighter than a lucky penny

That, my friend, is how I do not feel! I woke up this morning, feeling like absolute rubbish! There were people yelling, garbage collectors cussing, squirrel shrieking, unicorns humping, and f*cking dogs playing poker in the den. I needed a cup of coffee before I could pick up where I left off. Let's proceed, shall we? Ladies first. Well, don't mind if I do. Like the great poet, Ludacris, once said: Move b*tch, get out the way!

It was nice of Cosima to bring Delphine flowers. It's so sweet. But roses seem so cliché. Now if Cosima showed up with a pot of Venus fly trap, that's when the party starts. But then again, Venus fly traps aren't too sexy, are they? Hm. Point taken. It's the thought that counts, right? So instead of flowers, Cosima should've brought Delphine a bouquet of vibrators. It would be sweet, practical, and definitely memorable.

I love Walking Man Joe. He has all the components that make for a great character: he's homeless, speaks broken french, is unhinged at times, and he has a f*cking shopping cart! Whenever you're with Walking Man Joe, you never know if he's going to charm the pants off of you, or if he'll stab you to a bloody pulp in an alley. What a coincidence. Walking Man Joe has the same tendencies as I do, in the fact that I, too, like to shove people out the way. It's would've been amazeballs, if Walking Man Joe would've said: "Move bitch, get out the way, get out the way, bitch, get out the way!"

I need more coffee. Wake me up, when September ends. Or if Walking Man Joe makes another cameo.

I like how Delphine and Cosima are on a nice date, in a quaint restaurant, just talking and sharing a meal. It's nice to, you know, take it slow sometimes. When you're going too fast, you never have the time to enjoy the little things. If this story was about sex, sex, sex, vagina, sex, it would probably be amazeballs, but of a different sort. This comfortable, feel-good vibe chapter is a nice change of pace. I like it. I like it the same way I like curry: mellow. What? Nope. Brain fart.

An Italian restaurant that only has 6 tables? If I were in that restaurant, I would not be able to breathe. The walls would be closing in on me, the moment I set foot in the place. If the dining area is already that small, I can't even imagine the washrooms. It's not even a room. It's just a bucket in the corner. And if you look up, you see the kitchen, and you see Giovanni making the carbonara sauce. Your eyes meet. And they lock. But you really have to go number two. And you can't stop. It's like a flood gate, once it's open, it can't be contained. And just like that, you've ruined your dinner date, and Giovanni's evening.

I've always assumed Delphine and Cosima are both tops. But Cosima's making it so like Delphine's the top, while she, on the other hand, is a bottom. But you know what they say. Two tops are better than two bottoms. The last thing you want is a pillow queen. Because eventually, down the line, all you want to do is smother her with that pillow, from all the pent up, sexual frustration that's accumulated for the past fortnight. And Delphine raised a good point. When people talk about tops and bottoms, why do they always use baseball as a metaphor? One's a pitcher; the other a catcher. There are plenty of other sport metaphors out there, that is equally as applicable, is there not? Let's see. That...um...and you know...there's just...okay. Fine. I can't come up with one, on the top of my head, so I'm just going to say curling. Yes. Curling. It's very Canadian. And it's the only sport I can think of right now. And if you think about it, it's actually quite fitting. The entire game of curling, is two slide stones bumping into each other to get into a better position, on a slippery sheet of ice. If that doesn't describe lesbian sex, I don't know what does.

Wow. Okay. Just when I thought Josh was bad, his mother is WAY worse. Josh does not need a maternity test. I am positive he crawled out of that woman's capacious vagina.

This is between Josh and Delphine. The mother had no right to interject, nor voice her opinion. True, Josh is her son, and she only wants the best for him, but then again, you can go blow a vacuum cleaner, you donkey-munch. Oh. It made me furious, reading the mother's dialogue. I can almost hear her voice, too. It's high pitched, with a bit of nasal after tone. All you want to do is slap her in the face with fried halibut, and slather her with peanut butter and pour fire ants on her decaying crotch carcass.

Damn! Delphine's a bit of a firecracker, isn't she? That took a lot of balls, and was it ever amazing. We've all been guilty of it. We've all said spiteful things we don't mean (or do), when our temper gets the better of us. But in this case, I'm glad Delphine did. But Delphine should've left with a parting line, that's all too fitting; she should've said, "Bye, Felicia." And walked out like a diva.

Grab luggage? Check. Chew and spit our Josh's mother? Check. End things with Josh, for good? Check. Make a date with Cosima tonight? Check. F*ck her brains out tonight? Pending.

My first name might as well be Ms. Cleo, cause you know I'm right! Even Delphine is kicking herself, for leaving things the way they were with Cosima. Delphine is so furious with herself that, literally, all her clothes fell off. And hence, why she's naked.

Josh basically bombarded Delphine's cell phone with pathetic voicemails and texts, all in an attempt to get a reaction out of her. Josh Duggar, over there, is stalker material. Like, if public service announcement had to run a commercial, and on it was a poster that read: STRANGER DANGER, Josh's face would be the face of both the stranger, and the danger. Bam, b*tch, two birds with one stone! Can I get a high-five, or what?!

Delphine, honey, would you mind standing right there, so I can slap the regret out of your nose? Are you crazy?! Rule number one: you do not talk about fight club. Rule number two: never send nude photos of yourself. Unless you're a guy. Then I don't care. You can bombard the internet with your dick pics all the live-long day. But it's a big no-no for girls, cause you know, someway, somehow, those photos will come back to haunt you. But atlas, it is too late, for what's done, is done.

You brought up Josh's mom for a reason, right? Well I'm going to put it out there, that Josh's mom is f*cking crazy. Oh, no. Not regular crazy. Super crazy. Like, throw holy water on you crazy; buy Kmart gift card crazy; cut your hair while you sleep crazy; talk to her toes like they're her babies crazy.

"Ready, Freddy." I've never heard this expression before. Is it an American saying/slang? I actually went and looked it up, on Urban Dictionary of all places, and by golly, there it was. We have a few Canadian sayings that I feel obligated to share; think of it as a cultural exchange: Double-Double; supply teacher; pencil crayon; eh. That's all I could come up with. Ow. My brain hurts.

Holy Watershed, Batman! What did I tell you?! WHAT DID I TELL YOU! That, my friend, is Charles! That's Charles, right there, doing very a very Charles-like thing, in the elevator, with his pants up to his nipples, and kissing his teeth. Oh. There we go. Another cultural difference. I know what you meant, when you said sucking on his teeth, but in Canada, we say kissing his teeth. Wait. Is that the same thing? I'm not quite sure. I can't do either, as I've been raised to believe that it's impolite to do so. Oh, I also can't talk to strangers, sit with my legs wide open, expect to have a career after marriage, and chew with my mouth open. If we see Charles again, anywhere in this story, I am ripping a lock of my hair off, and I'm sending it to you. I know it's creepy, but so is my uncanny predictions.

And again, not even a goodbye kiss? Really? Wow. These last two chapters have been drier than granny's vagina after her 6th kid. Or the Sahara desert. The latter of the two sounded more appropriate. But then again, when have you ever expected me to be appropriate? I think I've crossed that line eons ago. If we had boundaries, and that boundary was Russia, I would be the Victorian era, cause it's not even on the same spectrum. Are you confused? Well, good. Then nothing's changed.