title: <Xi>
body:
Xi:
the 11th
pretender
from Xina.   502 bad gateway bypass

after a sexless decade of my 20s... well... "sexless"...
there were the odd instances,
one Thai Surprise picked up from a park bench:
how eagerly she went back to my house
and how easily it was to un-package her...
although: i wasn't too sure if i was going to
find a her down below...
                                    the several times in the brothel...
i don't even know how i managed to give
one of them (back then) an ******...
   even she was surprised... apparently it only
happened a second time with me...
i mean with her with me... not that i was the first...
and since that fateful relationship that ended
when i was 21, which only lasted a few months...
i thought i would never have *** that good:
when parting she even tried to tease me about it...
you'll never get it so good...
play the Dandy Warhols' good morning whenever
you want to have *** and think of me...
i'm so thankful i didn't download any hook-up apps,
Tinder Bundle Rumble Fumble Drum-ble
whatever - i missed everything: culturally -
whenever the trends picked up: i just wasn't there...
shoom! the whole hooking-up culture scene just
blew over my head like a fighter-jet...
                      i was at the brothel from time to time...
it just felt... too easy... where there any genuine
transactions? oh god... a dinner date?
who the hell wants to have *** after eating a decadent
meal? i tried something last night...
and it worked like magic...
    a small meal in the afternoon: mainly cottage cheese...
cheese... not yellow cheese... white cheese...
a hot-cross bun and some apricot jam...
most certainly 2x 30minute excruciating cycling
sessions... one before the meal... some trickle of
WHITE WINE... not rose not red... WHITE wine...
half a bottle after the "meal": more like a snack...
the wine sipped... half a bottle...
then that second cycling session... oh... and in between...
jerking off to the pictures she sent me:
of her plush, plump lips... jerking off... but not...
actually *******... get the blood flow evened out...
testing, ch't ch't... testing... everything o.k.?
good... after the bicycle ride finishing off the wine...
relax... get in the mood...
then take a long journey to the brothel...
nothing quick... once there... get about 200cl of
brandy and some pepsi... walk around the brothel,
to the nearby park... drink about 100cl of the brandy
leaving the other 100cl poured into the emptied
pepsi bottle with... obviously some pepsi still in it...
that's for the in between in the brothel...
but i get that... it's transactional...
   i work sometimes 10hour shifts at Wembley...
it's ******* March... it's cold...
sometimes getting there an back means i leave
the house at 7am and come back at... 1am...
         i earned this... but i'm not paying for a *******
dinner date & a "maybe"...
                             and why should i be ashamed
of these women? i don't really have time to judge them...
esp. not this one... oh no no, oh not this one...
this one is special...
                       man... if the next day you wake up
and you're like... ****... my ****-cheeks ache...
oh... right... she wanted to do it in the missionary
position yesterday... no *******...
     i like her approach... a different position per visit...
no... changing positions... none of that...
oh... and look... thinking about my ****-cheek
pain from clenching them too much
   i get a hard-on thinking about her...
                when was the last time i got a hard-on
in the morning just by thinking about a woman?
i can't remember... but hey: here's to the first (time)!
- and i noticed something peculiar yesterday...
it's sort of borrowed from the Kama Sutra...
it's about sizes...
i can't remember what animals are exactly used...
rabbits... deer... and elephants...
for all the size shaming and that sick practice in
pornographic movies where the woman is like:
oh... you're so big...
   she mentioned that i was rich... because i am not
circumcised... ******* is always for the times
when you need to get off on your own...
but pulling it back... it tightens the head of the phallus...
meaning? you get more stamina...
it also increases the "desensitization" of the ******* head...
it tighten it increasing blood flow...
anyway... this size thing... the woman: oh you're so big...
also the woman: **** my tight little *****...
so... large ***** don't exist? and that's somehow
a good thing?
   the Kama Sutra explicitly states...
a rabbit male is not a good match with an elephant
female...
******* loves to explore *****-envy shaming
tactics by pairing up elephant males with
rabbit females... but there's a middle ground...
if she said: whenever a black guy walks into the brothel
i avert my eyes... i don't want to get hurt...
well yeah... elephant males have no problem satisfying
big-**** elephant females... because by the time
he gets to insert his phallus into her vagin...
half of it was already exploring the avenue of ****-cheeks...
i'd say i'm a deer male and she's a rabbit female...
- just a reminder... so you're doing really quick:
semi-violently - pelvis smacking against pelvis...
the skin of either us smacking against each other...
but then you slow down... pulling in and out
gently... she gives off mini-*******... nothing fully
fake akin to When Harry Met Sally... little seismic
tremors... but... ooh... oh... what's this...
there's a suction in place now... i can't exactly pull
out altogether... the body parts are perfectly complimenting
each other...
           and in that moment in between
changing rhythm, pace... i look at her and ask her...
so... can i, ahem "come" in?
                        she gives consent and reassures me:
i'm not going to get pregnant (well i ****** well hope
so)... so it happens...
again... what a strange sensation...
            it's so much different when wearing a ******...
i'm not sure which i found more pleasurable...
my own **** being submerged in its own *****...
as if vomiting food up to your mouth...
and then instead of ejecting the *****...
swallowing it back down... like the Taurus that i am...
or... directly into her...
for her it's different too... because... when you do it
into the ******... you sort of feel like she's...
not actually willing to waste the juice as it were:
for her the juice is worth the squeeze... or...
the slap on the ***...
     so how do these "unwanted" pregnancies occur?
i could have pulled out without a problem...
i mean... ******* is not a process akin to
spontaneous combustion... i mean:
  i woman knows when you're about to *******...
she feels it... you feel it... but she also feels it...
she can tell... that's why i paused and asked her...
so much easier... when you're paying for what you
really want...
i will never forgot those words she said:
oh... i have exclusive rights to ******* her without
a ******... if my charm offensive didn't work on Jeminah...
offering to learn German with her son,
flowers for Valentine's day, banana loaf,
    homemade wine... i wasn't going to stick around...
bemoaning my failure... ****** off elsewhere...
and i work an honest job and earn an honest wage...
so... i'll spend it on something as pristine and honest as:
i could never **** someone for free - not really...
you never really **** someone for free anyway...
but it's strange for the dynamic has flipped...
i hear stories of women who were part of the hook-up
culture giving up their *** for free...
but now... are looking for men to step-up and pay
for dinner-dates etc.,
look at me... i came with payment first...
laid it on the table... cold hard £120...
               and yesterday? she wants to meet up...
outside of the brothel... aha... ha, ha ha...
    now? the *** is secured...
                               what's a dinner date?
                                       let's just say... £60...
right... and then? i'm not paying for an hour...
i'm getting the whole ******* night... for free!
well... we might want to get the night going:
the ****** rampage on neutral ground...
in a hotel... so i cough up another... say £60...
i might have spent just as much: but i'm getting
the whole night to be with her: not merely a hour...
we sort of came up with this scheme
when after i ******* into her and we took
a break to smoke a cigarette, drink a little brandy
and pepsi... talk... then we lay side by side...
gloriously naked... before i got another hard-on...
5 minutes to the hour... i once thought about exploring
the possibility of a vacuum cleaner...
ha ha... borrowed... from... Scary Movie...
Doofy? right? stop disturbing me when i'm cleaning
my woom! ha ha...
   yeah... big time *****... she started jerking it
between ******* it... spitting on it... putting it close
to her open mouth while jerking it off...
(not the type of girl that likes to eat potential children,
i mean, even prostitutes have standards,
you have to respect them, no mention of a ***-shot
on her eye-brows or on her chest or into her mouth,
my first girlfriend was into eating potential children,
it's sort of ugly)
spitting do the trick so she got the lubricant out...
5 minutes... yeah... i concentrated my efforts...
clenched my ****-cheeks... job done...
             - today i'm just sitting back... thinking all of
this through... a bottle of white wine is also very comforting...
the idea that i have to iron some shirts is also:
very to my taste... just vacuumed the house...
hmm...
   oh... my exclusive unprotected *** rights to her?
she mentioned other customers...
aqua-phobes... people who are afraid of washing themselves...
i'm pedating about staying clean, fresh,
she's too... she complained about Asians like this...
hey... Turkish lady can complain about someone
who doesn't wash himself... no problem with that...
but he's not putting his ******* poker into the fire
directly... he's going to have to put on a mini-latex-tracksuit
and... do what i already explained...
have his **** covered in its own *****...
   but then again... i'd love to try full body latex fun...
but... not yet and n'ah... not getting enough of it:
to fill-up your libido's demands...
perfectly wholesome orthodox *** is what i need
right now...
                 and music... that's important...
Nine Inch Nails - esp. the Fragile... that album is just
***... esp. when you're gearing up to the act...
walking alone in the streets... with night-owl people
around you sort of eerily thinking you're stalking
them...
but how the hell did i manage to bypass the hook-up
culture dynamic, conundrum...
once the hooking-up has died down...
and people are... well once they got it for free...
but now... want investments...
dinner dates & "maybes"...
                         i don't see the logic of that?
me... i went in hard... paid up-front...
                   and now? i'll be getting a better bargain...
i might be spending just as much...
dinner... and a hotel room... but...
   it won't be for an hour... but the whole night...
and it will be guaranteed...
- plus i gave her a signed copy of physical copy
of my poetry book i self-published... well...
funded the publishing of / printing back in Poland...
it even has an authentic review at the front
by this Armenian...
      she asked me if i could teach her English...
hmm... that wouldn't be a bad idea...
i could learn some Turkish while i was at it,
plus the current job i'm doing i'm only doing to get
good references... if you want to apply for a job
as a teacher... you can't have references from family
members... and since i worked with my father
in roofing (St. Bart's Hospital, various housing
projects, Scottish Widows' HQ etc.)
but i could start my teaching career early...
even though i have a degree in chemistry: i don't want
to teach chemistry... it's too objective...
too rigid... i need something more fluid: subjective...
sure... you have objective language...
but you also have subjective language...
plus... the idea of exporting my ideas to the Turkish
speaking world... probing a possible...
third branch of Islam... what other Muslims can a European
reason with, if they're not Turks?
i go to a Turkish barber... i now have... i wouldn't
say a girlfriend... but she's Turkish...
can a ******* ever be a girlfriend?
we're in the NOW... whatever happens in the background:
is in the background... behind this massive
crimson curtain... but at least it's out in the open
and i'm not one of those guys who ask girls
for their "body count"... i don't mind that...
but i abhor the chastity veil... pretending like...
oh no no: nothing happened prior...
                 let the **** float: so i can see it...
rather than stuff it with lead bullets and then chaining
me to it so it drags me down towards:
despair... i want despair out in the open...
then... it isn't despair anymore... but a platitude of
transparency i can deal with...
it's so much easier when you have these two golden
rules:
treat others like you'd like to be treated &
                don't spin false narratives...
hmm... Istanbul... sounds very tempting...
            plus, it's not like the Turks haven't knocked
on Europe's door through the Balkans: not ever...
and they don't mind drinking...
which is a good thing - always, esp. for me...
yeah... if i started with teaching her English...
               i'd love to get into that...
            and if i got some Turkish in return... hmm...
not a bad idea... actually: a very good idea...
no wonder i associate my prime totem with a fox...
well... and crows... and bulls...
hmm...
         now's not the time for daydreaming:
that comes later...
                 at this point... it's time to gloat...
                      so much for a generation of people who
hooked up for *** for free...
nothing is ever free... not even access to oxygen:
you have to make the effort to breathe...
in: hooh...               out:     ah...
                           thank god those years of hook-up
culture bypassed...
now i don't have to deal with dinner dates & "maybes"...
just... changed around a charge for an hour
into a dinner date and a night at a hotel; certain.

- and now i get to groove and sing along to
all the female-power... Sugababes' - round round...
round round baby
   i don't need no man i get my kicks for free...
round round.