Amsterdam.
I feel quite determined about my plans to go jogging in Westerpark in just a few more hours when I walk down the street to the Albert Heyn supermarket. Just out of habit I decide to walk a bit around the Blokhutten Complex first, an area of prefabricated student houses at the end of my neighborhood.
If it wouldn`t be for the views acroos the river I could still go there to check on the garbage - always interesting stuff these rich student kids throw away - as well as for unlocked bicycles. Most of these students come from small catholic provincial villages or are on foreign exchange programm and have no clue as to the bicycle theft and resell trade here in the "big" city.
No interesting stuff in the garbage and no expensive bikes but Maarten and Klein, two alcoholis and junks from the neighborhood, on their way to an abandoned lot where they wanna grow poppies as they proudly tell me showing me the seeds contained in a small transperent coffee shop provided hashish bag.
They offer me a beer and accepting this Can Of Evil I realise with a pang in my heart that there will be no jogging in Westerpark today but more of where that not all that elusive stuff came from...I can see from Klein`s bulking backpack that there are still several Cans Of Evil that will have to go down our thirsty throats this sunny day.
I see no reason to help these two street people seed their poppie seeds, water the ground with dirty poluted dish water from the river...instead I drink my Can Of Evil....luke-warm beer that does havoc to my still empty belly....I play a bit with Woef The Dog that has been adopted by Klein after Jackeline`s - The dog`s former mistress - messy death of cancer a few years back.
Mentally I wonder about how strange life can be....less than a week ago I was still at the other side of the world in the company of Thai Hot Mommas that were vying for my attention, good sex and tasty food, cold Leo beer and tranquility ruled my life with relaxed conversations late at night in front of the 7/Eleven with the Dutch expats, and now I sit here in a sunny but still crisp Amsterdam drinking luke-warm beer that does havoc to my belly and in the company of drunks who have no future but a mouth full of rotting teeth, bad clothes and even worse health.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Buddha on my chest
Holand, Amsterdam.
The Buddha pendant hanging on my chest is burning a hole in my flesh no duobt trying to warn me I`m on the wrong track. I`m not suppoeded to be here on this old and rusty boat with Little-Shit-Richard and Rob.
Still having a boat excursion around the canals of Amsterdam is every tourist's dream and even a hot item among the local populace.
The Heineken beer coming out of this green colored bottle is gliding down my thirsty throat just fine while we manoeuvre through small little canals lined by houseboats and small water craft, a heron eyeing us curiously while coots swim away in front of the boat.
The still early morning is crisp and a grey fog is making it difficult to discern details, Rob is blattering away in his heavy Amsterdam accented Dutch about all that has happened these past two months while I was busy in Southeast Asia balling Thai Hot Mommas.
The usual street shit that should mean nada to me, the sort of stuff I had vowed to stay out of when being back in this city that I see now from a boat man's point of view while we move into Het IJ, the big river that seperates Amsterdam Centre from Amsterdam North.
In the end we find ourselves back in my house in the Spaarndammerstr. having a few more beers and I hear more street stories while Buddha has incinerated the hairs on my chest, burned a hole in the flesh of my chest all the way to my heart reminding me of my vow.
When they are gone quarreling about where to get more tobacco, I go back to bed sleeping off my hang-over and mentally making up my mind...tomorrow this new life of study and sports will finally start....no more heavy drinking but a New Life of dedicated running in the park and studies, boredom to the MAX but at least a better and healthier way to spend my days here in Amsterdam, better for my inmortal mind and empty wallet.
The Buddha pendant hanging on my chest is burning a hole in my flesh no duobt trying to warn me I`m on the wrong track. I`m not suppoeded to be here on this old and rusty boat with Little-Shit-Richard and Rob.
Still having a boat excursion around the canals of Amsterdam is every tourist's dream and even a hot item among the local populace.
The Heineken beer coming out of this green colored bottle is gliding down my thirsty throat just fine while we manoeuvre through small little canals lined by houseboats and small water craft, a heron eyeing us curiously while coots swim away in front of the boat.
The still early morning is crisp and a grey fog is making it difficult to discern details, Rob is blattering away in his heavy Amsterdam accented Dutch about all that has happened these past two months while I was busy in Southeast Asia balling Thai Hot Mommas.
The usual street shit that should mean nada to me, the sort of stuff I had vowed to stay out of when being back in this city that I see now from a boat man's point of view while we move into Het IJ, the big river that seperates Amsterdam Centre from Amsterdam North.
In the end we find ourselves back in my house in the Spaarndammerstr. having a few more beers and I hear more street stories while Buddha has incinerated the hairs on my chest, burned a hole in the flesh of my chest all the way to my heart reminding me of my vow.
When they are gone quarreling about where to get more tobacco, I go back to bed sleeping off my hang-over and mentally making up my mind...tomorrow this new life of study and sports will finally start....no more heavy drinking but a New Life of dedicated running in the park and studies, boredom to the MAX but at least a better and healthier way to spend my days here in Amsterdam, better for my inmortal mind and empty wallet.
Monday, March 16, 2009
Back home, hard to believe.
Amsterdam.
I find it hard to believe finding myself back on the stairs outside De Schakel, the homeless centre in my neighborhood, drinking a cup of luke-warm coffee and wondering what in hell's name I'm doing here in this city.
I mean I had such a good time out there at the other side of the world, all the way around the globe in Southeast Asia where the food is tasty, the life good and the weather wonderfully sunny, where I'm the focus of constant attention of local ladies whose smiles are broad and full of promise.
There is no way around it though.....I`m back there where I belong and spend most of my life when not on the move, the place where I have my house and my social participation job at the animal farm for children, the petting zoo in Westerpark, my alcoholic friends - the Brotherhood of Westerpark Drunks - that I had vowed to ignore.
Instead I`m sitting here on these cold stairs sipping luke-warm coffee, cortesy of De Schakel, surrounded by these ragged homeless, the boozers and the druggies whose meagre belongings are often stowed on the back of a rusty bicycle.
Monday morning means garbage collection day so De Schakel is full with crap they found in the street early in the morning and hope to sell to second-hand stores later during the day.
I talk to Rob and Little-Shit-Richard about my trip, I cycle over to the bank to pay the bills that accumulated in the form of a huge pile of official looking envelopes pushed under my door by my neighbors - I`m overdue paying most of them but I don`t care a shit! - , I visit the animal farm to find out about my new hours - "start tomorrow please Hans, everybody is sick", Magriet asks me.
Hard to believe I was still sitting on Pattaya's boulevard just a few days ago giving Moo twenty baht for food and a few Chang beer to my former lovers. Sipping Leo beer while the Hot Mommas were busy "hey you sexy man, me go with you", calling after any passing farang male walking by.
I find it hard to believe finding myself back on the stairs outside De Schakel, the homeless centre in my neighborhood, drinking a cup of luke-warm coffee and wondering what in hell's name I'm doing here in this city.
I mean I had such a good time out there at the other side of the world, all the way around the globe in Southeast Asia where the food is tasty, the life good and the weather wonderfully sunny, where I'm the focus of constant attention of local ladies whose smiles are broad and full of promise.
There is no way around it though.....I`m back there where I belong and spend most of my life when not on the move, the place where I have my house and my social participation job at the animal farm for children, the petting zoo in Westerpark, my alcoholic friends - the Brotherhood of Westerpark Drunks - that I had vowed to ignore.
Instead I`m sitting here on these cold stairs sipping luke-warm coffee, cortesy of De Schakel, surrounded by these ragged homeless, the boozers and the druggies whose meagre belongings are often stowed on the back of a rusty bicycle.
Monday morning means garbage collection day so De Schakel is full with crap they found in the street early in the morning and hope to sell to second-hand stores later during the day.
I talk to Rob and Little-Shit-Richard about my trip, I cycle over to the bank to pay the bills that accumulated in the form of a huge pile of official looking envelopes pushed under my door by my neighbors - I`m overdue paying most of them but I don`t care a shit! - , I visit the animal farm to find out about my new hours - "start tomorrow please Hans, everybody is sick", Magriet asks me.
Hard to believe I was still sitting on Pattaya's boulevard just a few days ago giving Moo twenty baht for food and a few Chang beer to my former lovers. Sipping Leo beer while the Hot Mommas were busy "hey you sexy man, me go with you", calling after any passing farang male walking by.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Remembering the Hot Mommas
Holland, Amsterdam.
I arrive to a sunny but crisp Amsterdam - goodbey to the Thai sun that I enjoyed so much these last couple of months. Goodbey to the melodious Thai language and hello to the harch sounds of marrocans passing me in the Haarlemmerdijk, tourist English and German, gutteral Dutch from the locals, rapid Spanish from pot smoking punks from Barcelona.
The drunk brotherhood is still boozing away in Westerpark and I recognise each single one of them but even at the distance of a mere fifty meters they don't see me, already in the realm of King Alcohol argueing who will have to pay the next round of Albert Heyn luke-warm beer.
I climb the stairs to the second floor of the house I live in admiring the art that adorns the walls of the staircase, my own art but after two months in Southeast Asia it looks almost foreign to me, blowing my mind.
My appartment still looks exactly as I left it....dusty and chaotic with books, newspapers and all sorts of typical male possessions strewn around the place. The sort of place you could expect any confirmed bachelor to live in!!!
I ignore the huge heap of post my neighbors have pushed under my front door - mostly bills no doubt - sit down in my favorite easy chair overlooking the inner garden behind my house and allow my mind to wander back to Thailand, back to the Hot Mommas of Pattaya I will have to do without for some time as yet....sigh....sigh....sigh....
Back to Pattaya´s boulevard where less then twenty-four hours ago I was surrounded by beautifull women, all of them having come over to my favorite haunt in front of soi ten, in front of 7-Eleven where I bought my cold to the touch Leo beer and made my little dates for Number-One-Bumbsing-You-And-Me-In-My-room. I had sexual intercourse with each and every one of them and now being surrounded by all these hot to trot Hot Mommas is a real boost to my male phyche.
Needless to say I feel quite happy to pay them a few free Chang, twenty baht for Moo for food.
Goodbey to you all. I know you´ll be in my dreams in the months to come and we ain´t talking the Chakwao type of dreams, nor are we thinking about dreams that go Pagwan in the dark, the pillow talk after good sex.
You do as you please you poor creatures of the dark. I have gotten used to your ravished faces and worn-out bodies, screaming at me in the dark of night, visiting me during my most intimate moments of sleep in the privacy of my own bed.
After all these years of visiting your country, that so-called Country Of The smile, the counntry of superstitious people where the animistic spirit world is alive with female goulds following me back to Farang Land for a strange and weird quest of revenge, haunting me and leaving me no mental pease.
I will be back, whatever, next year always keeping my eyes open for juicy Thai pussy and Good Heart, a sexy smile and feminine pupils promising me a few cherished hours of sexual lust in exchange for Thai baht never bothering to tell me about the higher price my tormnented mind will have to pay once back home.
I arrive to a sunny but crisp Amsterdam - goodbey to the Thai sun that I enjoyed so much these last couple of months. Goodbey to the melodious Thai language and hello to the harch sounds of marrocans passing me in the Haarlemmerdijk, tourist English and German, gutteral Dutch from the locals, rapid Spanish from pot smoking punks from Barcelona.
The drunk brotherhood is still boozing away in Westerpark and I recognise each single one of them but even at the distance of a mere fifty meters they don't see me, already in the realm of King Alcohol argueing who will have to pay the next round of Albert Heyn luke-warm beer.
I climb the stairs to the second floor of the house I live in admiring the art that adorns the walls of the staircase, my own art but after two months in Southeast Asia it looks almost foreign to me, blowing my mind.
My appartment still looks exactly as I left it....dusty and chaotic with books, newspapers and all sorts of typical male possessions strewn around the place. The sort of place you could expect any confirmed bachelor to live in!!!
I ignore the huge heap of post my neighbors have pushed under my front door - mostly bills no doubt - sit down in my favorite easy chair overlooking the inner garden behind my house and allow my mind to wander back to Thailand, back to the Hot Mommas of Pattaya I will have to do without for some time as yet....sigh....sigh....sigh....
Back to Pattaya´s boulevard where less then twenty-four hours ago I was surrounded by beautifull women, all of them having come over to my favorite haunt in front of soi ten, in front of 7-Eleven where I bought my cold to the touch Leo beer and made my little dates for Number-One-Bumbsing-You-And-Me-In-My-room. I had sexual intercourse with each and every one of them and now being surrounded by all these hot to trot Hot Mommas is a real boost to my male phyche.
Needless to say I feel quite happy to pay them a few free Chang, twenty baht for Moo for food.
Goodbey to you all. I know you´ll be in my dreams in the months to come and we ain´t talking the Chakwao type of dreams, nor are we thinking about dreams that go Pagwan in the dark, the pillow talk after good sex.
You do as you please you poor creatures of the dark. I have gotten used to your ravished faces and worn-out bodies, screaming at me in the dark of night, visiting me during my most intimate moments of sleep in the privacy of my own bed.
After all these years of visiting your country, that so-called Country Of The smile, the counntry of superstitious people where the animistic spirit world is alive with female goulds following me back to Farang Land for a strange and weird quest of revenge, haunting me and leaving me no mental pease.
I will be back, whatever, next year always keeping my eyes open for juicy Thai pussy and Good Heart, a sexy smile and feminine pupils promising me a few cherished hours of sexual lust in exchange for Thai baht never bothering to tell me about the higher price my tormnented mind will have to pay once back home.
Saturday, March 14, 2009
The life story of an old Hot Momma.
Thailand, Pattaya.
She has been after me all day wearing a ragged short brown colored dress that radiates an odour of stale sweat and assorted bodily smells. She has been drinking Chang beer steadily all day trying hard to hook up with me, pushing her slightly overweight body against mine and stealing kisses every so often. In fact she been doing her utmost from the moment she first laid eyes on me just after I appeared on the boulevard after my buffet breakfast at the Apex Hotel walking over to the boulevard for my first Leo beer of the day.
I refused to let myself be carried away by her obvious sexual advances though - she even paid me a Leo with me retruning the favour later during the evening - and in the course of the day I found out her whole personal history....how she has worked the GAME back home in Amsterdam - she even spoke some Dutch - did the brothel scene in Penang, Malaysia, Singapore and Hong Kong showing me her passport to prove her point.
I got her point alright. She made a shit load of money but was too busy spending it on expensive Thai freeloading boyfriends, staying at luxury hotels near international airports while waiting for a plane back home, impressive juwelery that has been pawned long since, mind-enhancing drugs and heavy booze, never thinking about the days that were sure to come when her body was not so young anymore and therefore expendible in the international prostitution scene, no savings for that dreadful afterlife of an experienced Thai hooker in her later days.
At trity-eight years of age, with an ever growing tumpui and a face going the way of a century old piece of concrete due to booze and half a life time of merry go round and nighttime party activities, she now marches up and down Pattaya's boulevard where she has got to compete with Hot Mommas 15 years her junior and much better looking.
When she came "knock-knock-knock" on my door at two-thirty in the morning she nearly raped me desperate for sex as a proof for her self-steem, a bodily and mental necesity for a ravished life and a fucked-up mind.
Two hours of wild sex - she didn't even wear a slip under her smelly garment or bothered to take a quick shower to wash off a thick layer of stale sweat accumulated over several hot and drunken days.
With five hundert baht in her worn purse she left me,no doubt to drink more moonshine whiskey and maybe a few puffs of Yaa-Baa returning to my room four times in the course of the night/morning but it must be obvious I never opened the door despite her insistent knock-knock-knock!!!
My balls were empty, my mind needed sleep and my body the luxury of rest!!!
So very sorry Miss Nha.
She has been after me all day wearing a ragged short brown colored dress that radiates an odour of stale sweat and assorted bodily smells. She has been drinking Chang beer steadily all day trying hard to hook up with me, pushing her slightly overweight body against mine and stealing kisses every so often. In fact she been doing her utmost from the moment she first laid eyes on me just after I appeared on the boulevard after my buffet breakfast at the Apex Hotel walking over to the boulevard for my first Leo beer of the day.
I refused to let myself be carried away by her obvious sexual advances though - she even paid me a Leo with me retruning the favour later during the evening - and in the course of the day I found out her whole personal history....how she has worked the GAME back home in Amsterdam - she even spoke some Dutch - did the brothel scene in Penang, Malaysia, Singapore and Hong Kong showing me her passport to prove her point.
I got her point alright. She made a shit load of money but was too busy spending it on expensive Thai freeloading boyfriends, staying at luxury hotels near international airports while waiting for a plane back home, impressive juwelery that has been pawned long since, mind-enhancing drugs and heavy booze, never thinking about the days that were sure to come when her body was not so young anymore and therefore expendible in the international prostitution scene, no savings for that dreadful afterlife of an experienced Thai hooker in her later days.
At trity-eight years of age, with an ever growing tumpui and a face going the way of a century old piece of concrete due to booze and half a life time of merry go round and nighttime party activities, she now marches up and down Pattaya's boulevard where she has got to compete with Hot Mommas 15 years her junior and much better looking.
When she came "knock-knock-knock" on my door at two-thirty in the morning she nearly raped me desperate for sex as a proof for her self-steem, a bodily and mental necesity for a ravished life and a fucked-up mind.
Two hours of wild sex - she didn't even wear a slip under her smelly garment or bothered to take a quick shower to wash off a thick layer of stale sweat accumulated over several hot and drunken days.
With five hundert baht in her worn purse she left me,no doubt to drink more moonshine whiskey and maybe a few puffs of Yaa-Baa returning to my room four times in the course of the night/morning but it must be obvious I never opened the door despite her insistent knock-knock-knock!!!
My balls were empty, my mind needed sleep and my body the luxury of rest!!!
So very sorry Miss Nha.
Friday, March 13, 2009
The end is nigh
Thailand, Pattaya.
I did tell Miss fohn that I would have another lady staying with me last night. Still I presume this twenty-five year old Hot Momma with an infectious smile and a sexual body that always when I talk to her on the boulevard incited a huge ecretion in my pants.
Leaving her on the boulevard disappointed all over her pretty young face I walked back to soi Honey-Inn finding I-Fell-off-motorbike-while-Mau waiting for me and quickly following me up to my room where in no time we were naked and ready for action.
I presume Miss Fohn really needed her money knocking on my door just minutes after penetration had taken place.
This is the sort of "shit" I try hard to tell my friends about back home in Amsterdam, the sort of stuff that their alcoholic minds, ravished by too much cheap Albert Heyn upermarket beer, too much Nederweed and small balls of crack, find hard to comprehend.
Take Rob for example, a seripous boozer if ever I have met one but still into the ladies either jacking off late at night in the privacy of his house in front of his telly with super hard hardcore porn or else banging down and out Westerpark female drinking buddies, being off to the infamous Red Light District downtown in Amsterdam.
Better to save up your pennies and get off here with Thailand's beautifull Hot Mommas at a fraction oif the prise having to pay back home.
But my time, how ever pleasurable it might be, here in Pattaya is fast coming to an end with my Eva Air plane leaving from Suvarnibhumi New Airport in less then forty-eight hours.
Back home to Amsterdam, back to my volunteer job at the animalfarm for children, back to my house and my social wellfare Uitkering, back to that fucked-up and chaotic life that I never seem to have any control over full with addiction problems and no more horny Hot Mommas, no more tranquil drinking of Leo beer on the boulevard while pretty young and a bit older Hot Mommas try hard to chat me up, a few hours of sexual sexercize in my New Star Guesthouse in exchange for a meagre five hundert baht note.
The end is nigh and I realise that if people ring my bell late at night back in Amsterdam it will be the Westerpark brotherhood of drunks looking for a few free can of beers instead of hot to trot Thai ladies.
TOO BAD INDEED!!!
I did tell Miss fohn that I would have another lady staying with me last night. Still I presume this twenty-five year old Hot Momma with an infectious smile and a sexual body that always when I talk to her on the boulevard incited a huge ecretion in my pants.
Leaving her on the boulevard disappointed all over her pretty young face I walked back to soi Honey-Inn finding I-Fell-off-motorbike-while-Mau waiting for me and quickly following me up to my room where in no time we were naked and ready for action.
I presume Miss Fohn really needed her money knocking on my door just minutes after penetration had taken place.
This is the sort of "shit" I try hard to tell my friends about back home in Amsterdam, the sort of stuff that their alcoholic minds, ravished by too much cheap Albert Heyn upermarket beer, too much Nederweed and small balls of crack, find hard to comprehend.
Take Rob for example, a seripous boozer if ever I have met one but still into the ladies either jacking off late at night in the privacy of his house in front of his telly with super hard hardcore porn or else banging down and out Westerpark female drinking buddies, being off to the infamous Red Light District downtown in Amsterdam.
Better to save up your pennies and get off here with Thailand's beautifull Hot Mommas at a fraction oif the prise having to pay back home.
But my time, how ever pleasurable it might be, here in Pattaya is fast coming to an end with my Eva Air plane leaving from Suvarnibhumi New Airport in less then forty-eight hours.
Back home to Amsterdam, back to my volunteer job at the animalfarm for children, back to my house and my social wellfare Uitkering, back to that fucked-up and chaotic life that I never seem to have any control over full with addiction problems and no more horny Hot Mommas, no more tranquil drinking of Leo beer on the boulevard while pretty young and a bit older Hot Mommas try hard to chat me up, a few hours of sexual sexercize in my New Star Guesthouse in exchange for a meagre five hundert baht note.
The end is nigh and I realise that if people ring my bell late at night back in Amsterdam it will be the Westerpark brotherhood of drunks looking for a few free can of beers instead of hot to trot Thai ladies.
TOO BAD INDEED!!!
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Categorising the Pattaya's Hot Mammas
Thailand, Pattaya.
With my time nearly coming to an end here in this Thai beach resort where your malehood is being glorified by all these Hot Mommas, clicketyclack their high heels go while marching up and down the boulevard on an endless quest for farang, the inevitable handbag dangling from their hands, dressed in short mineshirts or or even shorter blue jeans shorts showing off hard bodied legs all the way to their bum.
I have to categorise the hot babes I take back to my room. Those like yesterday's 25 year old Gail with whom I had gentle sex taking my time to penetrade her soft and already wed to the touch snatch, making love to her for a full hour and more the way I make love to a farang girlfriend back home in ancient Europe.
The same way I made love to 44 year old Fohn whose big smile did me in. Despite her bandages arm - "me fell off motorbike taxi while mau, Hans" -, sweet and hot we got off together after which she straddled my face and demanded "make smoke me' Hans", which was an absolute delight.
Then there are those that come to my room, often late at night or early in the morning, a belly full with moonshine whiskey and a head in disarray because of too much Yaa-Baa which makes them horny to the touch, slippery wed in their underwear. On a hot and horny quest they come to my New Star Guesthouse room looking for a big monster farang prick to amuse themselves with all night - the Yaa-Baa makes it impossible for them to get to sleep, another side effect of this carzy drug apart from being "me horny too much, Hans".
These Yaa-Baa crazed Hot Mommas I shag as they come, horny and hard pushing my male farang member up and down their wed pussies while pinning their legs wide apart and down on the bed while their heads go left and right in an incontrolable frenzy, their nails scratching away at my sun tanned chest leaving deep bloody gashes. I turn them around doggy-fashion way taking them from behind while my hands push their shoulders into the matrass that screacks in protest, their faces burried in the pillows.
They try to fight me back straddling me and pushing my erect member up their behind, rubbing their clits back and forward on my belly hard, their long nails burried in my white farang thighs, their head trusted between their shoulders facing the ceiling as though they wanna see if my fan is still in working order.
When they get their cherished orgasm they leave me a physical wreck but still want more and while I lie their on my back covered in sweat and panting, feeling close to a fatal heart attack, they suck my still erect dick, our combined juices dripping down my shaft all the way down to my balls, and suck me hard and with no merci. I am not allowed to go limp "this my cock now, Hans".
These drunk and sex starved Hot Mommas are the ones I fuck like prostitutes!!!
With my time nearly coming to an end here in this Thai beach resort where your malehood is being glorified by all these Hot Mommas, clicketyclack their high heels go while marching up and down the boulevard on an endless quest for farang, the inevitable handbag dangling from their hands, dressed in short mineshirts or or even shorter blue jeans shorts showing off hard bodied legs all the way to their bum.
I have to categorise the hot babes I take back to my room. Those like yesterday's 25 year old Gail with whom I had gentle sex taking my time to penetrade her soft and already wed to the touch snatch, making love to her for a full hour and more the way I make love to a farang girlfriend back home in ancient Europe.
The same way I made love to 44 year old Fohn whose big smile did me in. Despite her bandages arm - "me fell off motorbike taxi while mau, Hans" -, sweet and hot we got off together after which she straddled my face and demanded "make smoke me' Hans", which was an absolute delight.
Then there are those that come to my room, often late at night or early in the morning, a belly full with moonshine whiskey and a head in disarray because of too much Yaa-Baa which makes them horny to the touch, slippery wed in their underwear. On a hot and horny quest they come to my New Star Guesthouse room looking for a big monster farang prick to amuse themselves with all night - the Yaa-Baa makes it impossible for them to get to sleep, another side effect of this carzy drug apart from being "me horny too much, Hans".
These Yaa-Baa crazed Hot Mommas I shag as they come, horny and hard pushing my male farang member up and down their wed pussies while pinning their legs wide apart and down on the bed while their heads go left and right in an incontrolable frenzy, their nails scratching away at my sun tanned chest leaving deep bloody gashes. I turn them around doggy-fashion way taking them from behind while my hands push their shoulders into the matrass that screacks in protest, their faces burried in the pillows.
They try to fight me back straddling me and pushing my erect member up their behind, rubbing their clits back and forward on my belly hard, their long nails burried in my white farang thighs, their head trusted between their shoulders facing the ceiling as though they wanna see if my fan is still in working order.
When they get their cherished orgasm they leave me a physical wreck but still want more and while I lie their on my back covered in sweat and panting, feeling close to a fatal heart attack, they suck my still erect dick, our combined juices dripping down my shaft all the way down to my balls, and suck me hard and with no merci. I am not allowed to go limp "this my cock now, Hans".
These drunk and sex starved Hot Mommas are the ones I fuck like prostitutes!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
