Why Me?

We strolled through the darkened park. Not quite alone, but the other lovers in the park paid no attention to anyone but themselves.

We strayed into a wooded area, far away from the others. I’m not sure whose idea it was, hers or mine. It didn’t matter. What mattered was we were utterly alone together.

She leaned back against a tree and pulled me to her. We kissed, passionately, and were both breathless when we came up for air.

“Why me?” she asked.

I smiled at her. “What do you mean?”

“Of the girls at the club, why me?” she said in a coy, teasing voice.

“I like the way you look,” I told her, staring into her eyes.

I ran a hand down her face, her neck, down her arm, and, finally, took her hand. “I like the way you feel.”

“What else?” she said, breathlessly, eyes half closed.

“I like the way you smell.”

“I’m not wearing perfume,” she said.

“Doesn’t matter. And I like the way you taste.”

“You haven’t tasted me.”

“I will.” I let the change come, let the wolf take over, and let the beast within feast.

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