They lay naked on the bed, uncovered. She, awake, on her side, facing him, and already moistened. He, on his back, sleeps on.

She views his flaccid member and loose sac. Smiling, her hand encloses the whole genital package. A chick enclosed in a shell.

The game begins. A gentle squeeze. Nothing. Firmer pressure, one finger strokes. The chick stirs, grows. Her fingers part like the cracking of a shell. Purple head pokes out,

“Angel,” he mumbles sleepily.

“No, devil.”

She straddles him, settles, ecstatic as the hot wild bird flies, unerringly, inside her, to where it comes so often.