She sits before him, her black silk dress fallen open seductively at the leg, revealing the sleek nylon clad leg, the suspender just visible.
He looks; his cold blue eyes drink her in as an unfamiliar need stirs through his body, the passion of sexual desire. Yet it is only an afterimage and is quickly subdued. What do the dead care for the sweating and groaning of such activities? Perhaps once, before his creation, but now he will leave love for the living. Such as he find their passions only within the dying pulse of gushing blood.
She tosses her long brown hair and offer him a flirtatious smile that would have left a mortal man weak at the knees, if strong in the groin. “Hi… I’m Julia,” her voice is filled with soft laughter and drips sexuality. She runs her scarlet talons lightly along his statuesque profile, a seductive gesture.
He smiles, it is so easy, “Jonathon.”
© 1990 & 2006 Andrew M Boylan