It’s Christmas Day! Or Yule for the nonbelievers, myself included. But something makes me pause. There’s a weight in the bed next to me. And I fee... breathing on my neck. As I comprehend this fact, my blood runs cold and I freeze. The person is unmoving. The breathing is deep and even, relaxed. Who is it? The horror stories I’ve listened to come to mind, bringing with it images of Skinwalkers. Taking a deep, quiet breath and reasoning with myself that if it’s a Skinwalker, I’m already dead, I. Using my thumb to traipse over your erect nipple.” (Abby pauses for a moment to look up at me. I have been monitoring her breast, and her own nipples are now at full extension). She begins again: “Tracing small circles around your areola, feeling your body react to my touch . . . I move across your chest to the left breast and do the same thing, gripping, rubbing, and squeezing with a bit more gusto than before, starting to lose myself in our lust and passion. My hand, having its own desire. More

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