No. 114587 - Published 8 Sep 2013
HOD II. When I came out of the Warwick Avenue tube my phone simply wouldn’t regain a signal. I started to panic. I couldn’t turn up at the pre-arranged time without the ‘is the coast clear?’ call. This would be too risky. But also I couldn’t risk not getting my end away. What to do? But then finally my phone lurched back into life, so crisis averted.
Ah, Eastern Europe. With your fearsome work ethic, your razor sharp cheekbones, your kabanos, and your eccentric but endearing habit of catching and eating all our carp. Over the last few years I have rampaged through the flower of your young womanhood like the Vikings in reverse, only with not so much of the rape and pillage, more just the shagging. Poland, Estonia, Russia, Ukraine, Romania, Slovakia, Bulgaria – this list is long, but by no means exhaustive. I’ve had them all, and enjoyed every last minute of the experience.
But I’m worried. Vladimir Putin…Lech Walesa…The Ukranian lady with the plaits currently in prison…what is going on? Where is the moral compass of your emerging nations? It’s OK to have loads of Natural Gas, and to love dumplings, but maybe your young ladies need to be a bit more circumspect as to who effects entry into their undergarments on payment of the requisite amount of sterling?
But – even though I suspect my diatribe will not make it through to the decision makers – I would like to counter these concerns by saying that they do really, really do know how to suck cock. So in every cloud, as ever, there is a silver lining.
And as if to prove my point ‘Tina from Romania’ was (as is usual with HOD) right on the money. From the moment I undressed her, picked her up and threw her gently onto the bed, she twigged the two things that really turn me on (*) and proceeded to do them for thirty minutes, keeping me on the edge of orgasm for most of that time. And that, as they say, was that.
(*) vigorous – nay, violent - stimulation of the nipples, gentle stroking of the perineum. That’s the ticket.