A pair of black stockings

Maybe the lady receptiost boss has been bribed with a pair of black stockings, after all there is pleasure for ladies covering their legs in nylon, all of her attention now devoted to her new X-mas gift, absentmindedly tossing over the room key and Pas D'Attention to the local male following this female American tourist with the Dutch name Paulina like chasing a ghost, or maybe a shadow that one can never quite catch...miracles do happen but not in my life, just a one-way ticket out a otherwise lonely X-mas night for both of us...

The bribe of the pair of nylons works, it fuctions remarably well to make miss black nylon obsessionist forget the huge plaque behind the reception that reads "No Visitors In The Rooms", it works miracles too on the illusion that would have otherwise been a lonely X-mas night in the room of a big foreing city, foreign affairs in the home country of her ancestry, finding your roots becoming something new all in its own deception...

Have I run away from my chaotic appartment where unfinished artwork is covering my paint stained floor just to get trapped by the female machinations of an American tourist who is affraid of the loneliness of the Amsterdam night...

I feel a bit like a rat whose body is slowly but inescapably wrapped around by a hungry pyton, if I try to drag myself away it will be a one-sided match I guess...I have Pas D'Option but follow her upstairs while she sniggers and is crackling in crazy anticipation, hoping fervently she won't crack every bone in my rat's body while she squeeses the loop tight, puts her robes of lust around me untill there isn't a single bit of breath inside me...