(Mrs.Hot is writing a book! The latest inspiration, empowerment and entertainment returns soon.)
IN WHICH I GET A GIANT HELPING OF CREEP SUZETTE.
At the end of dinner, my French date Jean-Claude and I were feeling pleasantly buzzed, when he proposed we continue our evening at an intimate liqueur bar a couple blocks away. We walked arm in arm to the low-lit, elegant establishment, a fitting end to our sophisticated evening.
With his arm around me, we snuggled on the low sofas and ordered drink after drink. By this time, I must admit, we’d finally run out of conversation — I didn’t want to hear about the tech world anymore, nor did I, in fact, want ANY intellectual stimulation — it was physical stimulation I craved, and the fact that I was with a French guy meant I was pretty much guaranteed an expert dose of, yes, hot French kissing.
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