She lies there beneath her woolen blanket, wearing a heavy sweatshirt and a pair of thick sweatpants. The air condition is set to full blast, set to a nice cool temperature of sixty three degrees. The window of course is still cracked open which leads us to wonder. Why not just take off the sweats? Wear just a t-shirt and shorts and use a lighter blanket. Turn off the air condition and open the window. What is the point of one thing if its purpose will be pointless because of another thing that you are putting in use? The point is for you to ask.

She lies beneath her woolen blanket, wearing a heavy sweatshirt and a pair of thick sweatpants. Somnus has sprinkled that golden dust of sleep on her eyelids. Orpheus plays a tune on his lute within her mind which lulls her to sleep. Luna gazes over her just as a protective mother would. But these are all fictional characters, created by the thoughts of ancient people so who is she really with? She is with the thoughts and dreams of her personal Incubus and the hope that he will come.

She lies beneath her woolen blanket, wearing a heavy sweatshirt and a pair of thick sweatpants. She is curled into a tight ball, her hair draped over her face, her hands cupped around her knees, her fingers intertwined in a strong web, her toes wiggling in those warm comfortable cotton socks. Her lips are moving but not producing any audible whisper. Her nose scrunches up as if about to sneeze but it is a reaction to being tickled. Tickled by whom though? Haven't we already established the fact that no one is with her? Maybe we were wrong. Her personal sex demon could be there; no in fact he is there.

She lies beneath her woolen blanket, wearing a heavy sweatshirt and a pair of thick sweatpants. She is cuddled up with her teddy bear; she is also being cuddled by her personal seducer, bringer or pleasure, creator of satisfaction, source of perfection. Her smile is as if she has no fears, no worries, and no care for anything else in the world. She has a goofy smirk, offset to the side; her upper teeth completely show while the lower teeth are semi covered. Her eyes slowly creep open as she gives off a large yawn, opening her mouth so wide that you can see down to her heart.

Her heart beats within her chest, which lies beneath her woolen blanket; she wears a heavy sweatshirt and a pair of thick sweatpants. Her heart pumps the warm blood through her veins. All this blood often rushes to her face and makes her blush so severely it's as if a tube of cherry red lipstick was smudged across her entire facade. Her heart pumps oxygen to a brain and all those muscles, the brain is thinking don't let him near; the muscles are stretching and contracting in an attempt to pull him closer, tighter. Her heart is expressing its emotions. She becomes wet with the memories of what he has done to her, she has chills at the thought of what she has let him do to her, she has goose bumps at the memory of how it feels, she moans with the reminiscent feelings of an utterly perfect night, and she has an insatiable hunger of desire.

She lies beneath her woolen blanket, wearing a heavy sweatshirt and a pair of thick sweatpants. She is gently being caressed as she awakes, she sees him, and she thinks…..

"Thank you mom and dad for leaving the house this weekend."