“You know what I’d like,” Elaine said to Harker one evening.

“A pony?” Harker said.

Elaine punched his arm. “But actually, a pony might not be bad.”

“Okay, other than a pony, what would you like?” Harker said.

“A fireplace fuck.”

Harker brushed the hair away from his eyes. “Elaine, we don’t even have a fireplace.”

“You could get me one for Christmas,” Elaine said.

“Christmas is what, four months away,” Harker said.

“So you could start saving up,” Elaine said. “I’d really like to have a Christmas Eve fuck in front of the fireplace. I can imagine it almost perfectly.

“You’d be doing me from behind, your legs outside mine so I have your cock trapped extra tight. And the fire would be so warm and crackly. And my cunt would be so warm and silky wet. And you’d make me come so good. And then we’d celebrate with a martini, and then we’d throw our glasses into the fireplace.”

“We would?”

“It’s traditional.”

“If you say so,” Harker said. “Have you ever even had a martini?”

“No, but I might like to try one sometime. Shaken not stirred. Or is it the other way around? We’d have to get those special martini glasses. Imagine the sound of that glass shattering in our fireplace.”

“What about Santa Claus?” Harker said.

“What about him?”

“All that broken glass.”

“Well, he’s got those big boots,” Elaine said. “And I think he’d be more worried about the fire than the glass.”

“Probably right,” Harker said. “A fireplace, huh?”

“Yeah. I mean our apartment is so bare.”

“We have that new table.”

“Right, Harker.”

“I can’t believe you named the table after me.”

“I adore that table. And I love that penis plant you got me. I adore that penis almost as much as I adore your penis.”

“Nice to know,” Harker said. “So, if Santa Claus did come, what would you talk about?”

“I don’t care if Santa comes or not,” Elaine said. “As long as I do. Fuck me harder now.”