EXCERPT FROM "One Night in December"

I was awakened to what sounded like jingling. What the hell ...? I turned over, half sitting up, leaning back on my elbows. The light went on from the wall switch. There, leaning on his right shoulder against the doorframe, was Andy. His arms were folded on his chest. His right leg crossed over his left, he stood on one leg with his right toes on the floor. He had on black cowboy boots with spurs. That was the jingling I’d heard. He also wore a black cowboy hat, a red bandana, and a red thong with some sort of insignia on the left side. He smiled. I woofed.

“Hey, cowboy,” I crooned, “Ain’t this a role switcharoo. Ain’t you supposed ta be Little Beaver?”

“Well, yep pardnar I usually is, but dang ifni’ I don’t like this’re cowboy hat of yorin. Whada ya think?”

“Good ‘nuf to eat, Ubetchim.”

He chuckled, put his thumbs in the waistband of the thong and sauntered forward and stood by the bed. I crawled to the end of the bed on all fours and took his swollen package still wrapped tightly in the thong into my mouth. The taste of silk, the feel of his throbbing penis through the fabric, the male smell of him, sent me into the farthest reaches of arousal. I wrapped my arms around his hips and enjoyed the firm roundness of his ass cheeks. He rubbed my head and massaged my shoulders. He reached down and freed himself from the confines of the thong.