While Charlette entertained herself with his facial and head of short hair, Paul just smiled at her.  Her youthfulness was infectious, though sadly, not contagious.  Although the gesture of her cheek against his beard felt nice, it also brought her face perilously close to his.  Charlette’s femininity was like a Force 12 hurricane: there was no stopping it, and one could only hope to get out of its way.  Unfortunately for Paul, Hurricane Charlette was smack dab in his path, and there was nothing he could do to avoid her.<br/><br/>Surprisingly, his mention of a shave caught her attention.  “Well, thank you for that,” he responded to her compliment.  “It’s just that the itch drives me nuts sometimes.  But hey, look at it this way.  It can always grow back.”<br/><br/>She returned to his beard and hair and in that instant, Paul now understood why cats purred when they were petted.  Mainly cuz it felt so damn good!  Had he been able to, he’d be purring right at this moment.  Instead, all he could muster was a grin, as he figured she wasn’t long for this world, if her heavy eyelids were any indication.<br/><br/>Following a kiss on his cheek, she was out like the proverbial light.  Watching her sleep, her breathing fell into a rhythm, and he knew she was truly in a deep snooze.  Admiring her womanly wares and beauty, he pictured the two of them hand-in-hand, sharing passionate kisses and beyond.  There’s something wrong with that picture, Old Man, came a friendly reminder.  Yeah, he thought in reply, Yeah, I know.<br/><br/>Soon after, his eyelids also lost its battle to remain open, as sweet slumber enveloped him, while a little minx was tucked beside him.