Finally, he took my face in his hands and kissed me. Slow and sorrowful at first, I could feel the pain seeping up from his soul. The vine-like angst ...rapping around and around us until I could hardly breathe.As I pulled back to catch my breath, Hugo pushed the kiss further. His pain became an impious passion. His lips pressed harder on mine with a bit of desperation. His hands worked roughly to pull my shirt up and grab my breasts. Then he unzipped my pants and stroked my pussy. The fever of. I was curious though. Why had she bought me a beer? It was hard to read her. An American woman would have smiled or said something if she had any intentions, if you know what I mean. But Germans almost never smile. They wonder if Americans aren't congenital idiots because they walk around smiling so much.I sat and watched the scene for a while sipping the beer. I was about half way through when the waitress came and sat at the table. I glanced at my watch. It was midnight. "Hello. Are you on. More

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