Rebecca is having a dessert fantasy:

“I am imagining the sheer desire and eroticism of laying in between the layers of a Boston Cream Pie slice. Slipping my naked body into the cool custard, feeling it coat my hardened nipples like a lover’s I-just-drank-some-cold-water tongue. Pinned down by cake and chocolate ganache, pressing my ass deeper into the custard until it parts my ruby lips, sending shivers up my spine. I wiggle. I moan. I lick my fingers and drift off into a hazy sugary sleep on a cold winter’s night.”