Stella 1-844-332-2639 ext 322
You might expect a French girl like me to be utterly obsessed with haute couture, fine beverages, or perhaps skiing at Mont Tremblant dans l’hiver. And yes, I appreciate a good Pinot Noir and a perfectly tailored jacket as much as the next Quebecquoise girl. But my true passion, my deepest, most fulfilling joie de vivre, lies in a rather unconventional area of human anatomy. Specifically, I’m talking about the magnificent and surprisingly expressive region known as the male butthole.
There’s a certain thrill in watching a man slowly melt into a puddle of delightful vulnerability. The initial surprise, the widening of eyes, the subtle shift in their posture – it’s all part of the butthole exploration dance. They rarely see it coming; my innocent, wide-eyed French charm is an excellent camouflage, masking the mischievous intent bubbling just beneath my surface. It’s like presenting them with a delicate macaron, only to reveal it’s filled with a tiny, exquisitely potent jalapeño. Magnifique!
