Halloween
He was hairy. So hairy. Every year 11,000 Americans injure themselves when trying out bizarre sexual positions.
She twisted and turned in the bed. She felt the thirst deep down within.
Joe. Joe. Joseph Morelli. Super cop. Italian stallion.
She twisted and turned in the bed. His name almost escaped her lips.
She was destined to be his Cupcake. They were meant to be. A couple. An item. A match made in Heaven. The way he smiled. The way he looked at her. The gleam in his dark liquid chocolate eyes. The shadow of his white even teeth.
She twisted and turned in the bed. She wanted him to bite her. Hard. On her lips. On her neck. On her thighs . On her breasts. When they made love. She wanted him to look her in the eyes when he came. She wanted him to shout. She wanted him to moan. She wanted him to laugh. She wanted him to yell. She wanted to taste his sweat. She wanted to feel his power. Over and over. Thrust after thrust. She wanted him to praise the blueness of her greedy, lustful eyes...
She twisted and turned in the bed. 'Twas the night before Halloween. All her secret nightmares. All her beautiful dreams. She was a married woman now. The man beside her let out an extra loud snore. Suddenly she became wild awake.
Frank.
Frank Plum.
Her husband of 39 years.
She blinked, blushed, and felt horrified.
And in her dream, she'd smiled at Joe's naked, young, and muscular body. And he was hairy.
So hairy.