Somehow the coiffeur had created a new style. It was appropriate to her age and love of activity, but in a style that emphasised the sophistication an... elegance of the archetypal cultivated French woman.I took her arm as we went into dinner to the sounds of our dance scores. Her unencumbered breasts and erect nipples made the dress move sensuously and all eyes shared her moment. Laurence and I had pride of place at the head of the table and Madam Fabre, her husband and Henri, my male dance. But then, she started to hate him. He took her to the elliptical machines, stationery bicycle, the exercise ball. There, she saw him eyeballing her honeycomb hideout's camel toe as she lay on the ball with her knees bent, her hands placed behind her head, elbows out and lifted upward for a crunch. Sweaty and winded 90 minutes later, she realized she heard him say that this was only Day One. The kiss he gave her made up for that comment, more or less.As they walked back home, she forced a smile. More

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