We advertised with the telephone people, little cards on the phone boxes. No warning. We rang Tony and told him. “Slice open the ball bag. Operation, two weeks recuperation, fly home, $300 plus hotel plus, say $1000. Drained. “Niche, sub one percent.” She explained. We rang Tony and told him. Like Synchronised fucking from the SexOlympics on channel 92. Like Synchronised fucking from the SexOlympics on channel 92. I mean how do you get the shots when they forget where in the hell they are and just go for an orgasm? Two days later they let us go. Operation, two weeks recuperation, fly home, $300 plus hotel plus, say $1000. She just hauled her panties aside and started wanking about as soon as she stepped through the door. “For fucks sake!” I gasped, “She’s got nigh on a million quids worth of gear in each tit!”
We hung around for ages. And when she got started.
