He’d been to France once, in college, but any culture he’d acquired was pure affectation. He wasn’t rich, either-certainly not rich enough to rent a limo in New York (exhaust taxes had gone through the roof since Manhattan fell below sea level)-but she was, and they liked to splurge on special occasions. Like this one. She hadn’t meant to find out-she refrained from stalking him as much as possible, usually-but sometimes, when you’re data-mining for that perfect anniversary gift, the patterns sidle up to you like a process server and make damn sure you know that he’s already found it. It was the best of news, and it was the worst of news. It hadn’t taken her a week to figure out that she was, in reality as well as theory, crazy about him (less than that to find out that he, too, was crazy about her) but their courtship had long since passed its passed its halfway mark. Tonight, he’d come armed with the only Question that deserves a capital letter. Doing okay sweetie? Shut up, dad,. I had a good feel of her big tits."Oh sorry, I got carried away," I said, "but just shaking me alone does not help. I might go back to sleep." Can I help?" she asked with a smile."You are so nice. I'll tell you what you can do. Wake me up with a hot cup of coffee. Then I won't go back to sleep," I said."I would be very happy to do it but I don't know how to make coffee," she said."Don't worry I'll show you," I said. That day I brewed the coffee and she watched.When I was drinking the coffee I invited her to join me. At first she refused but with some persuasion agreed. She had never had coffee before and found it very bitter."Leave it, tomorrow I'll show you a different way to make it," I said.The next day I made two types of coffee. One was coffee with milk and the other milk with coffee. "Is it okay today?" I asked after she had tasted the latter."It is still a little bitter," she said making a face. I added some more sugar."Is it okay now?" I asked.She nodded with a bright.
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