Not that his friend was a moose, you understand, far from it.“Bon après-midi, Caitlin, it is nice to meet you.” His accent sounded to these unedu...ated ears like French. He was slightly taller and broader than Ben, with close-cropped hair and small dark eyes that were exactly the right distance apart.“How do you do, Christian,” I said, aware that it seemed a very old-fashioned thing to say. “Is that a French accent?”“Mais oui, Madame. I was born on the island of Corsica, in a small village near. Immediately I started feeling my blood heading south.God, my imagination was running wild trying to picture what was under the skirt. I had seen quite a few women naked, but as I have noticed, each one is different and each one is beautiful in its own unique way. And try as I might, my imagination just couldn't come up with a good enough image. All I kept thinking from the moment I saw her on that porch was: I really wish I could see her out of those clothes and telling me to do nasty things to. I needed to get cock. I had already had enough pussy. Well to be truthful, you can never have too much pussy. But in order to satisfy the curse, I had gotten enough. What I needed was a hard cock.’ She stopped. Sarah was rubbing her the right way and she was so distracted she was having trouble telling the story correctly, but didn’t want her to stop. ‘Sarah, to be blunt, you have been infected with the Bimbo Virus,’ Karen said and waited. Sarah wasn’t listening very well, she was feeling her. Nadia found the few extra pounds she carried to be very bothersome. Had she lived 200 years earlier, she might have been chosen to model nude for Rubens, but she was unaware of the famous artist and his genre of Rubenesque models. Still pouting, she smoothed the sides of her black slip dress (actually, Charcoal netting over a black slip with tiny, white polka dots). She loved the netting ruched sides and ric-rack detail. The dress went to mid-calf and had a long slit down the side. She.