So, imagine if you will, the following scene…
You are on your way to the London Fetish Fair. It`s a rainy day, your umbrella isn`t working, but you are in good spirits, because soon you will be among good people.
You step aboard your train at your designated train station. Notice that this train is unusually full of young people, probably on their way back from a festival. You finally find a place to sit, in the company of seven (or eight) young ladies, and two empty cups of coffee.
So far, so good?
Well, imagine the following.
The young ladies start chatting to each other. Soon, the conversation turns to (what else) shagging on the festival ground. You are indeed very present in the carriage, and listening, but can`t quite focus on what they are saying, as they are speaking at a level that really only dogs should be able to hear.
At one point, the ladies break out in a synchronised laughter, so high-pitched, that you can swear that your eardrums will not be surviving this train ride. As if that wasn`t enough, the train is now moving slower than before, seemingly keen on prolonging the never-ending agony of this situation.
You try to keep abreast of the situation by texting an SOS to your best mate. You force yourself to think of other things. And although the fantasy of being roughly taken in the pissing rain by a gorgeous fella is doing it for your loins, it`s not doing it for your ears.
As the train pulls into London, there is only one thought that keeps you afloat, besides the thought of good company and a bit of kinky shopping later on. And that is the thought that… well…
sometimes this blog just writes itself, doesn`t it?