Her personality is soft and quiet. And she smiles often. What drives me wild about it, is the fact that I do not always know what the smile means. Som...etimes her smile looks almost knowing. Sometimes inviting. Sometimes as if she knows exactly what she is causing. Sometimes innocent.And it gets me hot and bothered.The other day, I needed to tell her something and when I called to hear where she was, she called softly and said: "I'm here - in the washing room". Knocking on the door again, I made. She was sitting at the kitchen island on a barstool, sipping a glass of red and reading her iPad. She stopped and turned slightly to give him a kiss. "Hey there, how was your meeting?" he asked and poured himself a glass. "Good," she responded, getting off her stool to come closer. It was then he noticed that she was still in the skirt, blouse and scarf from this morning. She put both hands on his chest and leaned in for a longer kiss. His hands wrapped around her waist. "Mmmm," she moaned,. Finally, I remembered that we were in an open car in a crowded parking lot."How about some of that smoke now?" I asked, pulling back from our embrace."Sure, sweetie," was all she said as she slumped back into the seat with a far off look in her eyes.We arrived at her house in minutes. She had a little four-room bungalow that was decorated in yard sale chic punctuated by an eclectic assortment of objects from foreign lands. After asking her about some items, she told me that she owned a small. " Flowers are great, but you know what I'd rather have? A fucking*orgasm*."Marcus glanced at the other four faces glaring at her and laughednervously. "Come on, baby, I make you come, don't I?" Twice. Twice in six months, and that's giving you credit for the timethat you got me close and I finished myself off. And we have sex twice aweek, Marc. I've given you twenty-four orgasms for every one you've givenme." Aw, but like, it's different for girls, right? Isn't the lead-up betterthan the end?".