The Boy and His Fox.

The morning.

Boy wakes, sunshine gleaming.

In his arms lay a girl, his girl.

"My little fox," he whispers.

His hands glide over her warmth, feeling every curve of her shape.

He kisses her back and nibbles her skin.

She cooes, intertwining her body with his.

Offering her neck, she beckons him to take a bite.

He sinks his teeth, sending shivers down her spine.

She wraps her arms around him and they embrace.

She turns to him.

Staring into her big brown eyes, boy thinks,

"This could be love."

But, once again

Boy is thinking with his little head instead of his big head.