Walking along the Quai de Montebello, with the Notre-Dame Cathedral just across the Seine, and Marissa’s hand in mine, was the most classic romantic moment of my life. The morning sun warmed my face, and radiated lavender-scented body scrub from our bodies. A line of postcard and art vendor tables lined the street, and the city was coming alive. To be in Paris together, on a casual stroll this early summer day, felt like a dream I never wanted to end.

Marissa and I stopped and stared over the buckets of cut flowers at a florist’s make-shift store, both realizing that she’d be leaving holding some of them. Bird of paradise, carnation, roses . . . the standard fare were all creatively arranged to look bright and inviting, and easily grabbed and handed to a lover.

“I won’t tell you what I want, but I’m looking at it right now,” was all the direction I was going to get from her.

A single red rose was soon pulled, and we walked on, with no particular destination in mind except being present and together. Several steps later, I unlocked my fingers from hers, reached into my back pants pocket, and pulled out a small, square envelope. Inside was a folded card, with a laser cut red heart on the front. I previously had written the following on the inside of the card:

“It probably is so blatantly obvious at this point, but just to summarize,

I’m completely and totally yours. I have no interest, nor will I, In anyone else, in any capacity.

It’s as if I’ve completed a “Wishes and Desires” questionnaire, and every answer points right at you.

I hope this conclusion leads you to firmly believe that you are my one and only, and you have won my heart over many times. So just be yourself, babe, because that person is perfect to me. 14,5&73″

The numbers were from our own private numerology, and she knew exactly what they meant.

My clever and playful Marissa read the note, smiled, and then stuffed it in her back pocket. She knows me so well, and realized that I was anxious to see her response. But teasingly, she offered no reaction, but just kept walking along. I gave her a slight hip nudge, just to let her know that I was on to her game.

As we meandered along, passing people on their way to work, we were in our own world. Time was irrelevant, schedules nonexistent. Anywhere we were together was the right place to be. Fifty meters ahead of us was a small bookstore, which seemed like a perfect place to visit. We entered holding hands, but soon parted as our eyes sought out different genres. Toni Morrison’s “Beloved” caught my eye as I made my way over to the poetry section. I found a compilation of poems by an 18th century British poet, and pulled it from the shelf. It looked like something Marissa would enjoy.

I pulled from my pocket a poem that I’d written for Marissa, and carefully placed it in the middle of the book, making it impossible to overlook. It read:

As much as I try, I can’t sleep
Too anxious to feel your skin,
The touch of my lips on your neck
The feel of your arms around my waist
The weight of your head resting between my chest and shoulder
The sensation of my hands massaging your oiled ass . . .
Spreading your cheeks slightly with each stroke
The taste of you with each glide of my tongue over your body

The sexy sighs from you as we make love
The hardness of your nipples
The sting of my whips across your ass
The sound of my Mistress’s voice
The feel of your warm, wet tongue in my mouth
Sleep is a chore now
I won’t be whole until I’m with you
Won’t find rest until you’re in my arms.

I moved to Marissa in a nonchalant manner, and casually said, “This one looks pretty good, you should check it out.”

I then walked away to the non-fiction section, while keeping a watchful eye on my gorgeous babe. She first looked at the back cover, then flipped the book open. The poem I’d placed inside immediately came into view. I noticed her eyes become more focused, and knew she was reading my poem. I could almost follow which line she was on by the reaction on her face. When she’d finished it, she looked over at me, and I quickly looked at the rows of books, teasingly pretending to be unaware of the wetness that was building between her legs.

She made her way to me, and gave my firm ass a good squeeze. I leaned down to her smooth, soft lips and gave her a kiss, letting my tongue glide slowly along her lower lip. Wrapping my arms around her, I slipped another notecard into her back pocket. Her new jeans were tight on her perfectly shaped and curvy hips, and her ass looked fantastic. Detecting something in her back pocket, she opened her eyes wide and let out a seductive, “Mmmmmm!”.

This card was identical to the first, and inside my handwritten note said:

“One moment at a time, your natural born personality was modified and developed into this dynamic, intelligent, confident woman that I’m so in love with. You should know that my love for the person that you are is the most important aspect of how I feel about you. You’re certainly a very strikingly gorgeous babe, but what really makes me crave you is the heart and mind in you. You’re my queen because of all your inner qualities, and that just fuels the fire of my incredibly strong physical attraction to you. You turn me on, inside and out. 382”

I wandered away, letting her devour the note in private. Our chemistry, already very strong, was now heated and raging. Were it not for the bustling Paris streets, we would’ve laid down on that very spot and ravaged one another. She was behind me moments later, this time delivering a pinch much harder than the first.

“How many of these cards do you have up your sleeve, Mister?”

I playfully pulled out another, held it up and said, “Oh you mean one like this?”

She smiled, let out a moan, and said, “Give it to me, now.”

I walked over to a small couch in the back of the bookstore, with the envelope in my hand, and sat down at one end. Looking up at Marissa, I patted the spot next to me, making it very clear how the next read would take place. She sat next to me, her firm thighs pressed into mine, and I set the envelope on her knee. As she reached for it, my hand covered the back of hers, just as her palm rested on the envelope. Slowly, I let me fingers glide up the top of her thigh, then down again. She quickly opened the envelope, and read the following note:

“You’ll have to excuse my abruptness, but I am so desperate to glide my tongue over your body that I can barely think straight. I can’t wait to feel my tongue gliding along your lips and sliding into your mouth. You are so hot and sexy looking right now that it’s taking all of my effort just to maintain a normal conversation! You look so delicious, my love, that I have no doubt that I’ll be pinning you up against the hotel room door as soon as we walk in, and stripping off your clothes based on feel alone. I want you now!”

My touch on her leg was extremely erotic to Marissa. Even without the note, she’d have creamed her thong. But the buildup of our public intimacy, and the surprise, personal notecards was overwhelming to her. It had been decades since she felt this much adoration, and her pussy was now steamy, wet and throbbing. I could tell she wanted to take a taxi to the hotel right away. But seeing her in public, this turned on, was just too good to stop. And so I produced another handwritten notecard, similar to the others. It read:

“From the very beginning, your voice has entranced me, meaning it has “filled me with delight.” It’s not just your accent either. It’s the way your breath makes each word fill up with emotion. The way you pronounce certain words is so interesting and enchanting to me. I could listen to you reading any average newspaper article, and I’d be carried away by your lovely, sexy voice. So, my love, you should know that when you talk to me, I really am hanging on your every word. 153″

She just smiled, closed her eyes, and placed her lips near my ear. Then, in that seductive voice of hers, she said, “Alright then, why aren’t you fucking me right now? Do you like the sound of that?”

“I do, love, but it’s so nice and quiet here, and the feel of your leg on my fingertips is so soothing. Why don’t we just sit here and read some more?” And then another notecard was tossed on her lap.

“Hello Gorgeous,

The shape of your lower lip is so incredibly sexy to me. I love that slight indentation in the middle, which brings my focus to your deliciously full lip. You are so tasty, my love, and just looking at your lips brings your taste back to me. Your upper lip also has a slight indentation, and together, they frame your beautiful teeth to form the most perfect smile I’ve ever seen! 143″

Being largely unable to keep a secret from her, especially if it involves something fun and sexy, I decided that rapid fire seduction would be understood. Again, another small brown, square envelope was produced. The same red, laser-cut heart on the front of the card inside. Marissa quickly opened it and read these words:

“Ok, Ok, Ok . . . one more. But this is the very last one that I have. Can I be a little graphic in this one? You are the sexiest woman I have ever actually known. Your face is beautiful, without a doubt. But your body turns me on so much babe. Your breasts are so yummy looking that I regularly fantasize about sucking and licking and teasing them until you’re dripping tasty pussy juice all down your leg! Your ass makes me hard as soon as I set my eyes on it, and I want to bend you over my knees and spank it. Your pussy is so sweet and cute, and it makes me wish I could eat you until you begged for mercy. Yeah, you turn me on!”

She sat there, our bodies pressed together at our sides, and experienced something that I never thought possible. She sighed as a wave of orgasms exploded throughout her body, and a hot splash of pussy juice gushed into her jeans. Marissa is so sensitive to the cerebral side of love and sex, that I can bring her to orgasm by the thoughtful sharing of honest feelings. Of course, the public stroking of her leg doesn’t hurt either.

I’m sadist, so even I sensed that it was taxi time. Moments later, we were in the back seat of a taxi, rushing back to our hotel. We kissed and made out like teenagers, with no care about who noticed. Pausing to breath, I kissed her earlobe, letting my tongue glide softly on the outer edge. I then whispered into her ear:

“300 Days of Longing
Craving what seemed out of reach
Each bite, each swallow increased the hunger
The flavors became richer, more lasting on my tongue
Yet the craving never stopped
My body longed to be nourished by your sweetness
Finally, your depth stayed with me
Completing me, finishing me
Forever lodged in the vault of my senses

Now, I bask in the warmth that your love provides . . . Forever.”

As we rushed through the hotel lobby, I’m certain the staff thought we were late for our plane. The elevator ride felt like an eternity. As I fumbled the cardkey into room 1517, my heart was pounding, and my cock was pressing out against my jeans. We stepped into the room and immediately embraced, removing our clothes by feel alone. Both topless, I dropped to my knees, and guided Marissa to lean against the wall, just inside the door.

Kissing the beautiful, smooth skin of her tummy, I looked up into her eyes as I unbuttoned her jeans, and slid them to the floor. I could smell the scent of her pussy, and it hardened my cock immediately. The hot, sweet smell of her cunt is the most erotic thing in this world to me. Her pink thong was soaked, and wetness had glistened her inner thighs almost to the knee. Without breaking eye contact, I dropped lower, and slowly licked up every drop of her.

Marissa settled in more comfortably against the wall, and draped her right leg over my shoulder. My tongue, craving her taste, was now able to easily reach every drop that had splashed out of her pussy all morning. The night before, I had shaved her pussy, so as my mouth pounced on it now, I had visions of her laying on the bench at the foot of the bed, legs wide open for me. At once, my tongue glided from the bottom of her cunt up to her clit, as wide as I could hold my tongue. Marissa’s mouth opened wide, as the moment she’d been craving all morning had begun. I was finally going to eat her again.

And eat her I did. Slipping my tongue deep into her pussy sent a jolt through her body. She loved getting tongue-fucked, especially while I was kneeling on the floor below her. My head moved back and forth as my extended tongue reached for every part of her pussy that I could find. Next, my lips slammed over her clit, and I began sucking hard. Her personal pussy pump. Flicking my tongue over her clit as I sucked hard on her sent an explosion of profanity from her mouth.

“You mother-fucker! . . . don’t stop you fucking pussy whore! . . . faster, before I rip your hair out! . . . Fuck me! Eat my cunt!”

I felt a rush of juice pour over my lips and down my chin. Marissa slapped the side of my head, in true dominatrix form. Her cunt squirted all over me as her legs shook, trembling with sexual exhaustion.

“Turn around,” I said.

Marissa’s ass is sacred to me. It’s one of those tiny, skinny asses that only look good in magazines. Her ass is round, gorgeous and delicious. I was in charge of the situation, turned her around, feet spread and far enough from the wall that she had to bend slightly to rest her hands against it. Spreading her yummy ass cheeks, I plunged my big cock into her butt. Pussy juice had leaked over her ass hole, which was glistening and begging for my big cock.

This was not a time for seduction, so the tip of my big cock found her ass hole immediately. Fondling it, caressing it, getting it ready to be fucked was my only agenda. Marissa was now panting, physically overwhelmed from cumming so much, but still wanting to feel my cock on her ass hole. I love the chance to show her how much I adore her, by pressing my big cock as far into her ass hole as I can get it. In and out, My big cock fucked her tight little hole until my monster cock was numb. She tasted so fucking good.

After stretching her ass good, Marissa could barely stand, so I helped her to the bed, where we collapsed in each other’s arms, and let our racing pulses calm down. The feel of my fingers on her body at that moment was romantic perfection. No woman could, or will ever be, as desirable to me as she is. We slept in that embrace for an hour, and then I rolled onto my back, intertwining my fingers into hers, and said, “You’re perfect, babe, simply perfect.”