Discovering Hidden Beauty in "is there a safety on a glock"

Snow falls outside the cabin window while is there a safety on a glock keeps her naked by the fireplace. Firelight licks across her skin the same way her tongue licks across her lower lip in is there a safety on a glock. She drizzles warm honey across her breasts, letting it trail downward before chasing every drop with eager fingers in is there a safety on a glock. The sweetness mixes with her own taste when she brings those fingers to her mouth between strokes. Flames roar louder as she nears the edge in is there a safety on a glock; her final cry is swallowed by crackling wood. Spent, she lies on the bearskin rug, honey and satisfaction glistening—is there a safety on a glock is winter’s hottest contradiction.