Sex and Sentiments in the South

The town of Sauzet is too beautiful for words. The afternoon I arrived, I moved my hands affectionately over sun bleached stone walls, climbed some ancient steps, and looked out into the Rhone valley: Olive trees, lavender fields, and distant mountains. While I opened my mouth wide to try and breath the whole dream into my lungs, a french cat purred and bumped its head up under my chin. No joke, these are my most precious dreams realized, and the sight moved me to tears. TMI's family thinks I'm completely insane since I'm, in their ears and eyes, an illiterate emotional retard.

Meanwhile TMI and I have been doing what we do best: thinking far too much while "bumping like rabbits" on every solid object in the South of France. Honestly I've NEVER been with a guy with such a drive. Every time he touches me the next thing I know I'm being thrown into a bush, into a closet, onto a table, under an olive tree or into a lavender patch. I thought the "wanna go again" line 3 minutes after sex only happened in movies and fanfictions written by blushing pre-teens, but evidently, it also happens in the South of France.

All the sexual energy is leaving us rather frustrated however because, last night, we were able to bring to light a sentiment shared between the two of us that would damper even the most fervent of sex drives. While we seem to be growing uncomfortably attached to one another, (aka becoming possessive, or insecure, or jealous, or worried) we aren't falling in love- the usual payback for the attachment troubles.

In final words I'm growing fatter than ever and TMI's sexy chic mom is calling the crowd into the kitchen for tiramisu. Plus bientot