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Lowkey No more

"Oh, coffee means sex in our world," I teased, my warm breath tickling her soft skin. 

"What?" she exclaimed, her face flushing red as my words whispered into her ears registered. 

"Scumbag," she squinted her eyes, her irritation evident this time. 

My jokes had clearly struck a nerve. But I couldn't stop now. 

There's a saying about race car drivers: once you hesitate, you've lost. So, the best thing to do was hit the pedal. 

"It's just a cultural difference," I answered, feigning ignorance. 

For example, kissing on the cheek might be normal in one culture but considered disrespectful in another. 

In my case, I have my own made up world, allowing me to tailor cultures to my liking.

"By the way, once we kiss a woman, it automatically means we're married for life," I added with a playful smile. 

"You—" She attempted to protest, but her words were drowned out by another barrage of beams of light bombarding us again.

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