Tasha was about to go to bed when she noticed a shoe sitting on the bedspread.

What a nice shoe, Tasha thought, handling the stiletto. I wonder if it fits? Might as well find out.

She hopped off the bed and eased her foot into the shoe. It fit perfectly. Not just perfectly, but with more comfort than any shoe she’d ever worn. Oh my, this is fantastic, Tasha said to herself. But what good is one shoe? The other one must be around here somewhere. She wobbled around the end of the bed, and sure enough, there was a shoebox. But except for some soft crushed paper inside, it was empty. Tasha frowned. She was about to take off the perfect but alas single shoe, when from the nest of crushed paper inside the shoebox something leaped.

Startled and off-balance, Tasha fell back onto the bed, the force of the small creature upon her chest both weightless and immense. Tiny paws padded up to the base of Tasha’s breast. Tasha’s gasp caught in her throat. “Mate,” the tiny creature croaked. “Mate, mate, mate,” and he climbed aboard the breast. Tasha gasped again. The creature’s mouth opened. His tongue snapped out, the tip of it catching the tip of Tasha’s nipple. More rapidly than a hummingbird’s wing, the tongue fluttered, sending sharp thrills from Tasha’s erect nipple straight to her equally erect clitoris.