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Amy’s Point Of View
Watching Victor do deals always turned me on. I felt proud to be one half of a couple who cared for others but could defend themselves and their own in most, if not all, circumstances. After I showered with my husband, sucking his cock midway through, I dressed and left home for an important meeting.
I had a transformative plan, which I figured out over months, but one thing prevented it until now. I needed Victor to ask for my help.
Rania sat beside me in my car, sipping her coffee while Greg enjoyed his, and I had a third. I smelled, then sipped mine, hid my verdict on the quality, and then grinned at the face beaming back in the rearview mirror.
I giggled because I knew what was coming.
“What is it, Greg?”
“Come on, Amy, don’t hide it, you noticed too.”
“The coffee?”
“Yes, the coffee.”
I laughed, and they did, too. I sipped again, enjoying the velvety, rich coffee that was almost a luxuriant cream that coated my taste buds, making love to my body as it slipped easily down my throat.
I tipped my cup to the rearview mirror.
“How is Diana doing it, Greg? I saw the same beans we use at home beside the machine.”
“It’s in the way she uses the machine, Amy. Small adjustments, her technique, and suddenly the crema is extraordinary.”
“Diana is a great addition to our home.”
“But where is your home these days?”
“That’s a fascinating question, Greg. I want to say Florence, but we have so much happening in New York that it’s impossible to ignore our responsibilities here.”