It is claimed that April in Paris in the springtime is the best for a romance. But I've been having this romance since October last and not one inch closer to Paris than the day I met her on the commuter train station platform at Tukwila. Thru out the vast snowfalls that kept us inside her mansion we played out our love making skills with vigor, especially when I shoved her out the back door and watched her immediate response to the four feet of snowbank and the snowballs I was throwing at her rapidly turning blue naked form. That is correct isn't, dear? "Mfflttfpptt" So today I'm enjoying the moment of true love. And it isn't because of her new Spring wardrobe of spandex, at least one size too small to fully curve around all of her marvelous curves. Although the way the skirt is tight right under the curve of her rear cheeks adds a certain delicacy to my practice baseball pitches, with a nice nine knotted flogger rather than a baseball, it is the way the front is open to her bright red fleece along the edges of those swell swollen lips. Isn't that right 'Tasty Stacy' of the Food Network's early morning cupcake show wherein most days the cupcake batter usually spills onto her soccer ball breasts and need to be licked off by the staff? "Spfftdftppddt." But of course, those regal breasts are even more regal when one knows that she is actually Margaritte Georgette Bakhuizen Van der Poel, heir to the last vestiges of the East India Trading Company, specifically the last agate mine in the world creating superior cat's eyes marbles. Nice of you to have signed it over to me before I hung you up by your ankles out here in the garage, wasn't it, dear? "Floopftoflooptada!" Hmm, that Dutch expression doesn't show up on Google Translator. Oh well, how is that chinese mustard/jalapeno juice poultice doing? Coating your bigums as well as all those cupcakes usually do. Oh, some of it is spilling down along your neck and into your bright red flowing locks that just touch the floor. Let's zip that front up to compress your grand tetons all the better, eh? "Sopapillaraditorretuttifruiti". Oh, this translator is not very good. Well, dear, the snowplow has finally got to our street so I'm off to work. Anything you want for dinner? "What did you say, snookums?" Her awakening eyes are always a great way to start the morning. Followed by her stretching those long limbs and an arm pressing one grand teton outward, and then the quick show of her fleece before she rises and runs to the bathroom. "Did you get the tickets for the trip to Paris?" She calls out. Tickets to Paris? She saunters back into the bedroom. With a smirk she opens the curtains on our top floor motel room in Wickenburg. "April fool." Who needs Paris in the springtime when you have a vivacious, well sculptured flaming red hair woman, on a hot day, running naked thru the desert while I....dam, forgot the flogger.