I lie in bed with my darling black angel, having just awakened. Glancing at the grand, old Victorian clock on the wall, I realize that it is barely morning, the sun not having risen yet. I sigh, in fortunate relief. My beautiful Tish absolutely hates the sun, and I understand why. Her soft, pale skin is quite photosensitive, and the blasted sun will oft try and peek its burning rays through our bedroom window.

I cannot help but look down at my querida and smile at her. She is breathtaking. Her skin is as white as a new fallen snow, and her thick, silky hair is as black as midnight. Her eyes are dark, and upturned, adding to her mysterious allure. Her stilleto nails are always crimson, and her toes are perfectly painted black. Her makeup is still on, as we completely lost ourselves in the throws of passion last night, and she fell asleep in my arms. Her lips are as red as the blood I would gladly shed for her (and have, in the past). Her eyelashes are naturally longer than the Mississippi river, and her expertly-put-on mascara only intensifies them. A true lady of the night, her dark smoky eyes (I don't know too much about makeup, I asked my only what a smoky eye was once and it fits the discription) pair beautifully with the black, low cut, gothic nightgown that we discarded last night.

My arm is wrapped around her slim waist. Her body is lithe yet curvy in all of the right places. She never seizes to make me forget any and all surroundings when I look at her. Her measurements are 37"-23"-37". I hold my sleeping beauty in my arms, protectively, her leg is draped over me while her hands rest on my chest. My encantadora... her legs are skyscrapers. When we first met, her long legs were one of the first things I noticed about her. She is tall, five foot nine, but her legs... she is enchanting.

And my only has an incredible soul and dark golden heart to match her mesmarizing body. Morticia, is her name, for a start. And it's truly the most beautiful name I have ever heard. It was made for her, as was I. But I believe this with full certainty. It showcases the darkness and elegance in her, and the mystery. Morticia... the sound of her name alone could bring me out of anything. But, my dearest also has this soft, alluring voice. It's the voice of a seductive black angel. That is the first thing I thought of when we met, and that is how I came up with one of many of the nicknames I call her on a daily... and nightly.

Her intelligence is amazing. She has an incredible knowledge of the black arts (she graduated with an advanced degree in witchcraft), as well as knitting rather unusual articles of clothing and anything concerning the languages of English, French, Latin, Russian or Romanian. She also posseses a very broad vocabulary, and her book smarts are matched by her street smarts. Her knowledge is incredible.

But her heart and her soul are as gorgeous as her body. She cares deeply about everyone she is close to, and even people she isn't. She is very passionate about giving to the less fortunate, and she is right. We have more money than we know what to do with, so donating a few million to a good cause(s) every year wouldn't hurt. Morticia also has a love for animals, mainly the ones that are misunderstood. Black cats, vultures, ravens, rats, dragons, lizards, the list goes on. She has an impressive ability to train these creatures as well. Actually, an ability to train anything. She could have the entire United States army, bowing at her feet if she liked. This was proven to me when I saw her with Kitty, her lion. She trained a lion. It used to be her father's, but when he passed, he left Kitty to her. And Morticia trained the King of the Jungle, to look at her as queen. And she is very open minded and accepting of all people, as long as they do us no wrong. One could grow daisies in their front yard and have three, small puppies but if that person is lonely, they can count on my wonderful wife to invite them for a couple of cups of hendbane tea. Her sense of humour is wickedly macabre, which is perfect because mine is as well. I could go on forever about her, but I'll stop at this: she is the best mother our little Wednesday and Pugsley could ask for. Her devotion to our family and passion is one of the things I love most about her. And she is my saving grace.

Yes. Morticia Andora Addams saved me from the person I could have become, at a time when I didn't even realize that it was wrong.

I love my Tish, but one thing that is different between the two of us is her sense of duty. I will always admire her for that because it is something that to a degree, I lack. I admit that now.

When Morticia's father passed on, her sister was never there, and her mother became depressed. She cried many a night, as her father (this broke me to hear) was the only person to truly show that they loved her before me. They were as thick as theives. However, she cried alone. She was forced to. She couldn't burden her mother and she and her sister were never close (actually, I'd rather not discuss her sister but that is another story for another time). Morticia knew her family was in dire straits, so she picked herself up and worked for two years as a cocktail waitress (having to lie about her age). Despite the groping and catcalling she suffered, she got through and helped to support her family. She never once complained to her mother, to anyone but sometimes, herself or Kitty. She was sixteen.

I, on the other hand, lost my brother at this age, sixteen. He isn't dead (at least, I hope), no. We had a terrible fight and it was entirely my fault. Fester was two years older than me, but had trouble in the department of women. To say the least, I didn't. We clashed frequently and I admit that they were mostly my fault, although he was a bit sensitive. One day, we came to verbal blows at Debutant Hall and that was the last day I ever heard from him. We were as close as brothers could get.

After that, I was treated as the eldest child, as, I was now the only child. I didn't take to it too well. I stayed up hours on end, playing with my electric trains and trying to figure out my life. I (from the time I was around fifteen until the night I met Morticia), was a male slut. Or, as my mother said, Massachusetts' youngest pimp. I used women for sex and they used me for 'arm candy'. I was a cad, and a fool. I put myself first and had, what I thought, was a fine time doing it. My best friend (whom I am still very close with), Enrique at my side, we would pick up women left, right and sideways. I was bringing home a woman every week. The longest we saw each other was two. I knew it wouldn't turn into anything serious and so did they.

However, when I met my Tish, all of that changed. I lived for her (I still do), I would kill for her, I would die for her. Either way, what bliss. She became my oxygen, the air I breath. She knew of my past and she accepted both it and me. My goal was to win her over and I did. She had walls, I understood. I broke them down with a sledgehammer and proposed to her the very night we met. The second I saw her, every other woman became meaningless. My life, I realized, had no value. I was completely worthless without Morticia, and it began that I started living for her pleasure. Knowing that I have satisfied her allows me to sleep at night. Cad Gomez never knew that he could fall into such a deep love with someone, but then he became me, when I met her. Cad Gomez didn't know that I would be able to look at a woman, and see not just another woman, but see her... see Morticia, and everythi she was that I desperatley needed. I was never religious until I worshipped Morticia, and now my heart, soul and body is a proud shrine to that woman.

But, before her, my life was grey. Not filled with satin sheets and passion and shades of black, but simply, grey. My past is checkard with fights and women and passionless sex. My sense of duty never really caught up with me, but when I met her, it almost did. It fully did, in regards to Morticia. My heart and I have a duty to protect and love our encantadora with everything there is. I adore her, and my only goal is to treat her the way she deserves to be treated, like the dark goddess that she is, and no sacrifice is too large to satisfy her. When my children were born, my duty was (and is), to protect, love and guide them through their years alongside my dearest Tish. But my only true, full senses of duty come from my Tish and my children. Despite these things, though, I am proud to say that mi amore changed me for the better, and I would be nothing without her.

"Gomez..." I hear a soft whisper, and I look down to see my querida, alseep yet awake in her dream. Her lips are parted and she snuggles up against me, inadvertently. Any closer and we'll absord each other! I love it, and her.

I smile, happy to have brought her to this state. Last night, she allowed me the great pleasure of tying her to the bed. She lied atop our grey, silk and satin bedsheets, blindfold over her captivating eyes, while I was able to dominate her. But, as usual, I quickly and completely lost myself in my passion for the beautiful, raven haired enchantress underneath me. My only desire was to make her scream my name in ecstasy. My only satisfaction came from succeeding in doing so.

Unable to control myself, I let my lips meet the porcelain skin of her neck.

Her nails lightly scratch my chest. "Mon cher..." Soon, Morticia's eyes flutter open. She looks up at me, and smiles that illusive, Mona Lisa smile that makes me forget that where I am.

"Cara mia..." I kiss her hand. "Unhappy, darling?" I ask, and rub her back. I always shower her in affection like this, especially when waking up.

"Oh, yes." Tish looks up at me. "Yes, completely."

"Did I wake you?" I ask.

"Yes." She replies, reaching up and wrapping an arm around my neck. "And I'm glad you did. The only thing better than dreaming of your touch is the reality of it."

I smirk, knowing that I've made her happy. "Really?" I look down at her, into her black eyes. "Quite the boost for my ego, thank you, darling." I tease.

Morticia rolls her eyes and glances over at the clock. "It's only three in the morning and I'm already boosting your ego?" She laughs, and even her laugh, drives me wild with desire.

"It appears you are." I reply.

Tiredly, she pulls up the blanket a bit.

"Cold, mi corazón?" I inquire.

"Oui." She replies, her lips curling into a coy smile.

"Oh, Tish..." I begin to devour her fingers.

She lightly moves my hand towards her upper back. "Don't stop now. If I'm going to boost your ego this early, the least I deserve is the feeling of that hand on my back."

I begin to rub her back again, this time, my nails, coming into play and running over her skin. "Tish, you deserve the world." I say. "You deserve more than you could ever be given."

"Gomez... mmm, right now, all I want is this." Morticia pauses, then opens her eyes and looks into mine. "So do you."

I laugh. "I appreciate it, cara mia." I reply. "But I've committed more than my fair share of shameful acts to deserve much. And I don't know what it is that I did to deserve you."

"I hope you realize what a wonderful man you are, Gomez." Morticia says to me. "The day I met you... I knew I couldn't have a life with anyone else. Every night before I fall asleep, I thank the universe for you. I don't know where or what I would be without you, but I know it would be miserable."

I move my hand upwards, slightly and dig my nails into her back.

"Mmm..." She then remembers something. "I'm trying to be serious and you're distracting me."

"Is that a fact?" I ask, and do it again, harder.

"Ah..." She shakes her head, then. "Now, that's just cruel. Using my own reward for boosting your ego against me."

"My appologies, mi querida. Would you like me to stop?"

"No, just let me finish." She replies.

I nod, amused. "Alright, go ahead."

"Thank you." Morticia continues, then. "You really are everything to me, mon cher. I couldn't imagine my life without you and I don't ever want to." She runs her hand over my hair.

I kiss her forehead. "And I couldn't imagine my life without you, my dearest. But I wasn't always this... kind of man." I remind her. "My past is caked with errors, Fester and the twins to name one of hundreds. Before you, I was a cad. Just because women used me didn't give me the right to use them but I did, albeit wrong. I snuck into strip clubs, I snuck women out of them. I had no sense of values or love, or morals. The list goes on." I look into her eyes. "Does that kind of man deserve the world?"

"No." Morticia admits. She then wraps both arms around my neck and lets her nails run over my cheek as she speaks. "But the kind of man you are now, and the kind you will always be, in my eyes... he does."

This is one of the many reasons why I adore her. She is caring and stro and beautiful, and... there is a phrase or poem, and I find it the truest one there is: I love her, not for the way she dances with my angels... but for the way the sound of her name can silence my demons.

"You do not know, and you will never know, the full extent of how much that means to me, cara mia." I respond, pulling her up, closer to me and cradling her in my arms, blanket pulled up to our chests.

"And you, mon amour, will never know how much I meant every word I said." She looks me in the eyes.

"Whether it be from the heavens, hell or universe itself, something brought you to me." I say. "And, my darling Tish, I am never letting you go." Then, I kiss her, passionatley, knowing we very well may be entangled until the sun comes up... that is the hope.