Love Widow (Draft 1)
Harder than they should have, and he was a performer. He talked the talk, he walked the walk, and she relished every second of it. He was purely genuine, and she felt it in every vertebrae of her spine as he rubbed his hands along the small of her back.
She allowed herself to be pulled in and he kissed her deeply, her body pulsating in tandem with the beat of his heart as she felt him smile against her lips.
She absorbed her energy from the black of the night sky; he held on for dear life. She palmed his head and nibbled, then bit down sharply. His body grew limp. No fight; no retaliation; no resentment. He lay there crumpled—in bits and pieces— as she finished him off, and her belly rounded out to the extent of its fullness.
(Kinda loving these little stories that end around the 100-200 word mark. Definitely want to work on filling them out and really making them come to life!)