Pounding the pavement of the greatest city on earth today and an unmistakable feeling came over me - well over my groin to be precise - fuck me it was signed sealed and delivered - I was going to punt. Fired up the purple site - nothing inspiring.
Tried the strip pub Griffen in farringdon to regroup and consider my options. no one inside only the girls and DJ. Fuck that. Soho it would be…
Striding purposefully down Wardour street I was going to head to the walk down 52 Greek street. Nah. That would be too clean, too polished, dare I say too functional. I wanted a thrill, some danger. The twin pillars of Greens court? Dangerous for sure but I brought home the trophy there on Saturday night to the roar of the assembled crowd on the landing. I want the dross, the shit, the kind of place where you felt you might just go through the rotten floor as you pulled up your trousers. 28 Peter street came into view and I knew it was meant to be. I climbed the creaking rotten stairs with a chinese newby in front of me - he hesitated to knock the first door - I seazed my moment and knocked and was inside like a rat up a drain pipe. Met by an uninspiring young lady. Fuck. I walked he was now ahead of me in the race to the bottom and was entering the upper flat as i turned the corner. Bastard! At worst I would have to wait with the maid while he blew his load and fifty notes. I reached out to knock the door and…it swung open, chinese guy looking demoralised and was racing for the door. Sweet Jesus what harror awaited me?!? I was tingling with anticipation at the degeneracy that was unfolding. I was now comitted and would have taken on whoever was in that room - Mike Tyson or Crazy Angela it no longer matter a punt was happening.
Took a deep breath, entered the bedroom and standing in front of me smiling was a Fucking star! 5’8 black hair mid 30s nice fake tits which I love big ass been in London 20 days and already descended into the 7th depth of hell, aka 28 Peter Street upper flat. There every Tues and assorted other days brining a fleeting moment of leveity to us jaded, melancholic big-smoke degenerates.
Speaks no english but very nice and smiley great oral with plenty of ball play (nearly came!) and then rode me very well before I had to get in top. Slipped into her tight pleasure tunnel and nonchalantly jogged over the finish line, ribbon well and truely broken, hands in the air in triumph covered in sweat after a marathon of an emotional roller coaster…
Looks like more fresh blood in Soho and an inflation busting £40+£2 bunk up.
Dosnt matter how hard things are right now - vault the ticket barrier at your local tube station, empty your pockets and fill your boots
