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He was bounding with energy and smiles. He was making fun of us and how badly we spoke French. We ordered food that we couldn’t pronounce, and worse... we didn’t know what it was. We drank the house wine which never seemed to run out. Finally, we had dessert of Crème Brulee and some flaming dessert that we didn’t order. When we walked out into the night, Paris was different. The City of Love had woken up. Lights were on everywhere and the city was glowing. Couples were walking arm in arm and. It didn't give two fucks how hot it was.Iva Whetsnatch was dripping with sweat such was the heat in her small apartment and the fact that the fucking air conditioner had shorted out days ago and the fact that she was bouncing up and down on Bumfelt's cock like it was an Olympic event and she was going for gold."Fuck me, Eddie, fuck me," she gasped, pumping her pelvis down in a rhythm. " Fuck me, baby."He did. If anything just to get her the fuck off him. It was hot. Too bastard hot for her. More

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