'''You see, madam? I'm naught but potter's clay in your hands.' 'No potter's clay, I trow,' she sighed in admiration, 'but a mighty oak.' 'Then come, little bird, and perch upon my branch,' he coaxed, pressing his lips to her temple."
Reader submission byEmiTheSatrangeXXO, a guest from The Keep Uncle Walter is not responsible for the accuracy of reader submissions. In other words, if it's wrong, it ain't his fault!
"He wasn't sure whether this was another hero's reward or a business transaction. As he fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, he resolved to worry about it later. 'Oh,' she said when, presently, he went into her. She was quiet after that, working intently beneath him, till she stiffened again and quivered and cried out, 'Oh, Joe! Oh, God, Joe!' He didn't think she knew what she was saying; he hardly knew what she was saying himself then. His own ecstasy came less than a minute later. Afterwards, he decided she probably was a widow after all. Being twenty-three, he would have been ready for a second round in short order, but she got off the bed and started dressing again, so he did, too. He was left with a puzzling problem in etiquette after that. If she was a streetwalker as well as a widow, he'd anger her if he didn't offer to pay. If she wasn't, he'd offend her if he did. He stood irresolute, a rare position for him. Without answering the question behind it, she solved the problem for him: 'Merry Christmas, Colonel Roosevelt.'"
Okay, okay, we promise that this is the last one. But we couldn't resist it! After all, we've had Sam, and we've had George. How could we leave out Teddy?
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