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42 Belgian truffles A Tart’s Love Song I bought Belgian chocolates for my beau dark truffles to entice his tongue and all his senses top to toe My hungry eyes with longing clung at closest range to each sweet part: the flaring nostril flushing cheek all rushing from his racing heart until my beau could barely speak His chin his throat: the chocolate’s job was almost done the climax near— and when his Adam’s apple bobbed in ecstasy I gasped Mes chères! to those who made my heart-throb throb: Neck-lust and the chocolatière ...

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