It is a Valentines day pre-party and there is a cheese fondue and candles and incense and dim lights and music and her.  
 
  

"Happy Valentines day," she says then pushing a little candy heart into my mouth. 

"Thanks," I say then biting down.

"Don't eat it read it," she says.  She is holding my mouth open using her index finger and her thumb. 
 
"Be mine," I say then putting the candy heart back into my mouth.  "It said, Be Mine."

"Well?" she says, smiling.

"Well what?" I say.  She wants me to say I'm yours or something like it but she's new to me so instead I say: 

"Sounds real good."

"Sounds real good?" she says.  "What sounds real good?" 

She's wearing a velvet one-shoulder dress and her long hair is pulled back (held in place using chrome plated barrettes) and I am enjoying her and all her goodness so I say:

"I'm yours."

"You're sweet," she says then kissing my lips.  

She is putting the fondue on the table then placing long forks with wooden handles into the bubbling cheese (one for me and one for her) and while she is doing this I am thinking:

I'd like to kick her bowl of little candy hearts into the air and before they have a chance to hit the floor I'd pour the melted cheese onto the linoleum and make love to her from one end of the room to the other (using the cheese as a floor lubricant).  Of course, we eventually climax (simultaneously) and that's when the little pink Valentine hearts finally fall to the floor and one of the hearts drop into her good female hand and it says Eat Me so I do.  
  
I am feeling a good amount of blood being redirected to my dong and that's when she says:   

"Like cheese, Norm?"

"Is that a Henry Kloss table radio?" I say, smiling then touching the old-fashioned analog dial. 

"You know your radios," she says then lighting the candles.  



Later that night we talked about how the Kloss radio came in black or walnut finish.  

Around one in the morning her telephone rang and it was her best friend telling her how her boyfriend had just been jettisoned through the windshield of a car and about how the hole his body made while going through the windshield was really small (about the size of a coffee can).

I told her it happened all the time, that it was common to go head first through a windshield, but she rushed off to the hospital.

That put an end to my cheese fantasy.  

Right after I headed to 7-11 for a Budweiser and one pack of Marlboro Lights. 

It was time to go home.