<span style="font-weight: bold">Preferences</span>- normal/same-size/no shrinkage; mouth and stomach, sharing mouth and stomach, perhaps intestines as well.<br/><br/>It's nightfall. I pull out a piece of paper from my right jean pocket. There's an address and phone number from this  incredibly attractive, voluptuous, curvy woman I met at a club last week. I would have called earlier; however, I was preoccupied with "other stuff". The dark bare trees blow in the wind. I walk several blocks as the roads are clear. I see some homes -- ranches and several small two story homes. "455; 457; 459..." I count the house numbers that are marked in black, metallic shapes on the side of the mailboxes. "461!" The house's address matches the one on the paper, a rancher aged between old and new. Unlike the other homes on the block, there's a window lit in what I presume is her bedroom.<br/><br/>I knock on the door -- a large, wooden, brown door. I hold the white screen-door against the back of my long, white, button shirt. I accidentally nick my left black shoe on the doorstep as I lean my ear on the door's surface. I don't hear anything. The door creaks open as if either someone else walked in, or she was expecting my arrival -- strange and dangerous, for I could not have been me, but someone else. I step in, but I take caution. There are no broken furniture or other property -- robbery hypothesis debunked. There is no blood -- murder hypothesis debunked. Perhaps she forgot to close the door. I close the door behind me and lock it.<br/><br/>I see a door, I presume it's her bedroom door. I see a streak of light shine through the barely opened door -- like a person who moves toward the 'white light' during a near death experience, I gravitate towards the door. My palms sweat, my heart flutter, I feel my stomach knot.<br/><br/>I step into the bedroom...