Polish Extreme by Edward Lee & Karolina Kaczkowska

Author:Edward Lee & Karolina Kaczkowska [Lee, Edward & Kaczkowska, Karolina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781944703783
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

««—»»

Whether he fell asleep just like that (i.e., pants down, dick out, belly jutting) or not, I don’t know, and I didn’t ask. I am simply recounting the story as he told it to me. When he wakened, the room was filling up with dusk, so, given this was only the first night of the many he had at disposal, he settled on delaying his visit to Klub Krystal—his aforementioned whorehouse of choice—until “the morrow,” as the British say, and that would allow him to shower, have a meal, and perhaps treat himself to a short perambulation about the regions of the City Center that might be in a more convenient propinquity. Why rush?

And if truth be told, the much-needed sexual release of earlier left him feeling a bit drained—in more ways than one. He chuckled at the thought: My girls at the Klub will have to wait a bit longer for the attention of MY John Thomas. You see, I have it on very good authority that my prowess as a love-maker leads to the best argisms a woman can experience! There’s only so much of me to go around, eh? I’m not a piece of meat, you know. I’m a human being, damn it! I have feelings too! Nobody wants me for anything but sex! I’m just a great big fuck dummy! And then he laughed aloud, to such an extent that he could feel his “man-tits” jiggle.

First, he would shower, and in order to do this with any regard to practicality, he must first unpack, so to have ready clean clothes to don. He rose, pulled up his pants, heaved his Samsonite onto the bed, and opened it.

He froze, then, at an unexpected observation…

Now, this the was very odd thing indeed. When he’d opened his suitcase, a scent—er, no, an odor—eddied up. It wasn’t particularly strong, but it was unpleasant just the same.

The odor was undeniably of fish.

This had happened once before, as he recalled, when traveling from Oslo, Norway, to Venice, Italy, by way of Frankfurt, Germany’s airport, known as Rhein-Main-Flughafen, (and you can trust me when I say that there are good airports in which to experience long layovers, and there are bad ones; Frankfurt is among the latter in this category), where a twelve-hour layover was necessary. You see, back in Oslo, he’d inadvertently placed a small packet of prepared sushi—in a clear plastic box—into his luggage. Such imbecilic gaffs were rare in the life of a man as orderly minded as Morley…ah, but of course, he was getting older, and his brain and metabolism took longer and longer to adjust to the jet-lag as each golden year ticked by. All that aside, the mistake was made, and this he recollected only after arriving at his Venetian hotel the next day, when necessity compelled him to open his suitcase…

Same smell here, right in the face: fish going bad.

Mr. Morley stared puzzled, for he was certain he’d not made the same blunder twice with regard to carry-out sushi; in fact, he’d had no sushi anywhere in weeks.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.