You leaned towards the display glass, your nose almost smudging against it as you stared at the frozen treats. A surly look from the disgruntled ice cream shop worker told you to hurry up.
You straightened up and said with an air of authority, "I'll have vanilla please." As the boy behind the counter was about to start scooping you waved your hands saying, "Wait, no, make that French vanilla."
Your blond companion raised an eyebrow before giving his order, a scoop neopolitan.
He paid for your ice cream and followed you as you pulled out a chair from one of the two person tables. You plopped down and with a smile of satisfaction licked at your ice cream.
Your French friend gave you a curious look.
You gave him a warning look, "France, please control your urges to make a suggestive comment about my licking an ice cream cone."
He simply chuckled, "As tempting as that sound, mon chéri, actually I'm curious as to why you got French vanilla instead of plain vanilla?"
"Oh," you replied. "that's easy, everything tastes better when it's French."
There was a pause as the innuendo you had made set in.
France gave you a knowing smirk and widening his legs slightly he said, "you're quite right about that~"
You scowled at him and turned your back to him with slight embarrassment. "Shut up, France."
Suddenly you felt hot breath in you ear and hands on your shoulders. The attractive blond man breathed into your ear. "Voulez-vous avoir un goût de moi, mon amour?"