The String Bikini

Her shape, her skin, her softness, her warmth. They fit him well and they were one. A feeling he could never get used to because it seemed so corny, but it was real. It was the passion of knowing her so intimately, where to touch her, where not to, and the phenomenal sense that it was equal and would be returned in tandem. Then he stopped thinking and let his mind follow his body.

Mister Bear

This he recognized. This beacon toward home, his third place this year. Blurry eyed he dragged his reluctant feet and heavy head toward this new thing, afraid of what surprise awaited him. It was a different configuration, but still his belongings. Material possessions never felt so good. He flopped on the mattress and cuddled Mr. Bear.