First off, it’s a bit surreal having your own photo pop up in front of you when looking at other blogs, but in a good way. Thanks for using it, Rochelle.
The way to his heart
I’ve heard tell that the stomach is the way to a man’s heart.
His name was Byron, my first. I’d pined for his heart for near on a year before I asked him over.
He kicked his boots off and unbuttoned his pants the moment he stepped through the door. I’d never gone after a man’s heart before. I didn’t know the ins and outs.
I had to snake my arm around his organs clean up to my elbow to get at his succulent heart. The stomach was a way to the heart, it seemed, but not the best way.