Better Than Chocolate

His muscular body leaned towards her. Norma could smell his testosterone all over him.  “Motorcycling is better than sex,” he said.

She took two steps closer to him. “Really,” she said. Her lips parted . She knew she was tantalizingly gorgeous.  The confidence in her eyes warned him that she’d always bedazzled any man she wanted.

He gave her an eyeball look. “Better than sex,” he said once more and drew away.

Norma tossed her platinum head back. Damn, she thought. The dress was wrong. She should have worn the black kid leather one with the lacing at her bust where she could pull it in as tight as a Chandler novel or as loose as the wind.   

My nephew Stephan, whom I talked about in a previous post, said that guys could never get away with saying stuff like that to a woman. “Girls say that all the time to you,” he started to rant. “You hear them saying it everywhere that chocolate is better than sex. They have bumper stickers, lapel buttons and even brag about it.   Man, if a guy said that to a girl there’d be some kind of manifestation.”

What do you think? Motorcycles, chocolate, sex?

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