I can be an odd creature. When I think of romance, I don't think of flowers, sweets, kisses or declarations; I think of dusk, the morning after, the sunrise together, the last languid hours of love-making. I think of melted chocolate and a sweet frosty center that bursts the moment you bite into it.
I believe that love is sweet. Sex is hot. And both are in a freshly-baked cupcake.
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