I would change the channel to "The Cosby Show" and feel palpable tension between myself and Denise Huxtable, portrayed by the tempting Lisa Bonet.
The dreadlocked renegade sported extra-large, cable knit sweaters, leaving everything but her high cheekbones to the imagination.
My left hand dictates the steering wheel, while my right hand is clasped to Becca’s manicured fingers.
A double-looped, olive scarf and a single chestnut braid contrast her blue eyes, dilated juniper berries that have been expertly framed. Although her allure lay somewhere beyond my league, she, the graceful cheerleading captain, and I, the mop-headed metal drummer, found an immediate Eros — one that remains clothed and censored by burgeoning, Christian morals.
It is early October, and the dry cornstalk still stands.