Lady Godiva.

Beautiful woman. Rises early. Rises fine. Lets the dogs out. Makes the coffee. Washes her face. She picks up a cigarette and before she can get it lit, because she doesn’t smoke, there’s a tickle in her throat that rises until it becomes a cough and coughs until it becomes a rage in her pipes. Stretches out her neck, her back arching, heaving forward until she has expelled the lovely beast. It busts through the bathroom window screen turning back to look at her from the yard, its fur still slick with the milk of her saliva. He didn’t want to leave, he liked the way he felt inside her. Another wolf escaped from the great Lady Godiva.
Teri Skultety, 4/19/13