I laid there for awhile, trying to catch my breath before I slowly got to my feet, my knees feeling jello-like as I searched around for anything salvageable to put on. My shirt was torn and my jeans were in ribbons. I let out an exasperated sigh and turned to where the man whod hunted me down and claimed me was zipping up his pants. He glanced up at me and let his eyes travel from my narrowed eyes down to the shreds of clothing I held. A wide grin split his muffled features. Sorry. He grunted as he reached for his own shirt and slowly covered the distance between us. He held the shirt out toward me and I carefully took it, not taking my eyes off of him as I did. The shirt was almost a dress on me, but at least it covered what needed to be. It smelled like him. I had to fight myself from burying my nose in it. I need to go home. I mumbled as I tried to collect myself and move past the large man. I was stopped by a thick arm that dragged me flush against him. His breath was a hot. Most of those were taken over to the in-laws house since I don't eat cupcakes on a regular basis. I'm more of a pie man than a cake man. My wife put the rest of the stuff away in a cabinet for use later.The one part of cake, or cupcakes, I do like is the icing. Especially if it's cream cheese icing, which, by the way, this was. My wife started it by opening the icing, we had used one container of icing on the cupcakes, we still had one left though. She opened it, dipped her pretty little finger in and stuck it in her mouth. After that, it was open season on that little container of cream cheese icing. I saw her do it and insisted she bring me some. Over the next couple days, about half of that container of cream cheese icing was scooped out by one finger or another and shoved into one mouth or another. Sometimes it was her finger into her mouth, sometimes it was her finger into my mouth and sometimes it was my finger. That stuff is good!!!The real fun started Christmas day. My wife.
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