+TYPED OUT-

+ONE SHOT NIGHT-

Telling Monday what he liked about her was as though Kenneth gave the woman a recipe for kryptonite. By saying something else, Kenneth took away the opportunity for Monday to tempt or sway him with the physical attributes that attracted him.

"Pardon?" Monday, taken aback by Kenneths' choice.

"Yes, you're nose is cute, small like a button."

The womans' lips drooped, and she tilted her head to the side, "well, it's the first time someone compliments my nose."

"What do people usually compliment?" Kenneth asked to see if peoples' impression matched his.

"My lips."

Why? Why did she provoke him?

Too late, the man leaned forward, "I agree, they're very appealing, and the red lipstick that's a showstopper." Mondays' full lips drew the man who found himself fantasizing about kissing them from the moment she slammed his book on his desk earlier that afternoon.

Kenneth was close, his breath still held the scent of lager Monday detested, yet she didn't dodge when the man slightly tilted his head to the side to kiss her. The womans' apprehension was at its max as Kenneths' lips brushed against hers. Beer x rum, a washing cycle of alcoholized fragranced fluid mingled in a rather astounding non-hasty kiss.

Monday giggled.

Kenneth pulled back, "what's so funny?"

"It's the beard. It tickles," the woman expected a skin-scrapper. Instead, she got a feather-brooming sensation that sent shivers running all over her body.

"Ah, ehㅡ."

"It's okay; it's just I didn't expect it. You, I mean, we can carry on."

Kenneth smiled and leaned once more. This time he made her tilt backward when he kissed her. Monday let her hands glide to Kenneths' lower back as his lips left hers and began to work their way down to her neck. The small vacuum kisses and the ticklish feeling of his beard made Mondays' toes curl. She let her hands fall to Kenneth's waist and tugged on the bottom of his sweater. The man automatically straightened up to pull it off; the gesture ruffled his hair and had Monday wondering why the man bothered to comb it in place. He was far sexier with his strands in havoc.

The man laid back down to continue. This time the woman slipped her hands under his t-shirt, he shuddered.

"Sorry, they're cold."

"It's okay," Kenneth overlooked something which usually killed his vibe and continued. He took a moment to look into Mondays' eyes. Silence didn't mean consent, and Kenneth wanted to ensure the woman was still with him.

Monday caressed his cheek, "you're not my type."

Her voice had the lower part in his pants bulge and knocking to break free.

"I know," Kenneth replied.

The woman lifted her torso to kiss him. They now sat and pursued to make out.

They weren't each other's preference, and they knew the action would not have a follow-up. The game rules were established, and both were okay with them.

Kenneth pulled away, got up, and stretched his hand out to her, "the bed is more comfortable. I don't want us to wake with torticollis."

What are you doing?

The thought was a second too late. Monday had already grabbed Kenneth's hand. They now stood in front of the bed where she turned. Kenneth unzipped her dress and slid the straps off her shoulders before letting it drop to the ground.

Kenneth spun her around to contemplate her. Monday wished she had a more enticing ensemble. Her seamless lycra set seemed unfitting even to Kenneth's eyes, who had already conjured the fantasy of black lace just as he imagined an hourglass figure.

Monday didn't even have a pear shape body. The mans' mind, conditioned by the voluptuous bodies of black female celebrities, almost forgot not all were Beyoncé.

Kenneth's eye upon Monday made her self-conscious. Her upside-down triangle body figure wasn't the trend. She had full shoulders; her waist and hip-width were almost aligned. The woman wished she worked out to tone up in a few areas.

She has bosom, Kenneth thought and took off his t-shirt.

It was now Mondays' turn to contemplate an incredibly fit body that stopped at a small pouch on his stomach, a memento of his lager-ed-filled life. What retained Mondays' attention was the clusters of freckles on his shoulders that faded going downwards on his torso.

Kenneth was a true poil de carrot [carrot haired]. The woman approached, posed her hand on his chest, and kissed him. Monday understood it wasn't that the orator wasn't her type of guy; she just never encountered one like him.

The man grasped her by the waist, and they moved to the bed. Kenneth closed down his thinking factory to let desire guide him. He kissed Monday down to her navel; the woman giggled all the way. The contagious sound made the man smile. He was glad to have sobered up as he examined her skin closely. He noticed minor stretch marks on the side of her hips, weight gain or gain loss the man didn't know. Like many men, Kenneth wished women went without them, yet he deposited a kiss on the area before pulling off Mondays' briefs.

"I thought you only wished to talk."

The man looked up, "I doubt you would have followed me otherwise. Can you imagine the wolf going I want to eat to Ms. Red Riding Hood when he met her in the woods?"

Monday laughed, "what analogy is that?"

"Okay, why would Iㅡclarify ㅡsomething that's tacitly impliedㅡ and which you understood," the man said as he continued to kiss her between each sentence fragment. Kenneth was right; Monday knew the potential outcome.

The woman put his hand on his head to make him stop. She needed to connect with a man more before letting him taste her. Kenneth conceded and rose to kiss her lips again while Monday began to pull down his pants. Again she wasn't prepared for what she saw. The woman didn't expect the man to be circumcised. Kenneth let his weight down; they were skin-to-skin.

Strangely enough, the what-are-you-doing playlist stopped in Mondays' mind, and she let herself go. She didn't even take notice of the moment when Kenneth pulled up a condom. The man kissed her bosom. His huge hands, which usually engulfed a total breast, could not contain hers. Kenneth tilted Mondays' hips, and she gasped in surprise as the man slipped his member inside.

They took a minute to adjust their position, their halting breaths alerted Kenneth he had the right pace, and the build-up of sweat on Mondays' skin attested he was in the right spot. The man lifted one of her legs for a deeper insertion. Monday closed her eyes, placed her hand on his buttocks, and let the pleasure sweep over her. When she opened them, her gaze found the mans' hair darkened with sweat.

Kenneth smiled in response to the radiant one the woman displayed as they realized what they were doing and with whom they were doing it.

If someone had told them at the bar the night before they would sleep together in the following twenty-four hours, Kenneth would have laughed warm-heartedly, while Monday would have called the person a psycho and walked away.