i knew i wasn't going to give the experience enough justice
by writing about it: immediately after having just...
experienced it.. i was already tired from the shift
and i only managed to come home around 2am,
but i wrote something preliminary to keep the "bank
account" of memory intact, below an overdraft
of forgetfulness - i had to write something telegraphically...
i woke up today around 11am after staying up
until 4am... i truly didn't do the event enough justice...

after all... it's not everyday that a man gets to write
about having a *******...
   i passed the Rubicon (as it were)...
                  i needed to quench all my jealousies...
this one was a big one...
   massive...
                    that's how you quench jealousies...
this one friend of mine started: fwend...
bragging that he was in a ******* once...
i believed him... my downfall... i became jealous...
i know him: sickly sprout of a guy...
  did he? didn't he? it didn't matter by then... or now...
that's the thing with the spirit of man:
whether true or not...
i had to find a way to compete with
                        the claim...

so i was coming back from a shift... slightly tired...
but not too tired...
   i was actually going after just one girl...
i took about enough money for an hour...
     circled round the brothel in my usual way...
since i quit smoking i was only drinking brandy
and pepsi... thinking about the Firth of Forth
geographic bearings and how it's impossible
to reach the same distinct: east is east...
west is west... north... south in London...
even if you're standing before the Thames...
don't know... Edinburgh is that much different
to London: probably because of the Firth of Forth
or perhaps that's a southerner talking about
living in the north... that's what i really loved
about living in Edinburgh... i knew where east was...
i knew where the north was...

London is confusing: geographically...
   it's a ******* Behemoth of a city...
           i find that... i have this Bermuda Triangle
compass in my head when i'm in London...
the world seems to implode...
   i'm standing in the 9th circle of Hell and everything's
spinning out of control...
because there's so much momentum concerning
London: the whole world is here...
no wonder i don't know where east is...
      at least in Edinburgh you have pointers...
the Firth of Forth... Glasgow to your "left"
when walking toward Prince's Street...
          so many bridges: but no river...
   i.e. bridges because during the black plague
the ingenious architects built on top of the infested
quarters... so the city rose up... hence the bridges...

of course i became jealous...
   there's no better remedy for jealousy other than to...
imitate... let's see... what the hell this "badge of honour"
is all about...
i.e. to sleep with two women at the same time...
i wasn't planning... walking around the brothel
i was actually thinking: will i be too tired to get
a hard-on? i'm not taking any ******* pills...
i knew a guy from high-school once...
troubled... but lovely... Ryan... he could have been
the next big footballer...
  but he succumbed to ingesting ****** early on...
all that teenage lust from the girls got to him...
last time i saw him: he had that aura of being
hyped up about nothing...
   precursor of being: left-over... disused...
dropping ****** pills... probably doing some other
drugs because... outside of the school environment...
he wasn't pulling his weight along...
the environment became open and there
was no access to freely available pedestrian looking
girls in school uniforms...
i'm not doing that ****: i thought...
            no... *** is an act of reciprocation...
i don't have a ***** for a *****...
   this doesn't work on automatic foundations
of... see a naked body: get aroused...
no! if i had a switch, say: squeeze my testicles hard enough
and i get an *******...
**** me... women talk about moods...
i have moods too... i'm either aroused or i'm not...
depends on the totality of a woman...

if it were as simple as seeing a naked body...
in the flesh... well... it's different when you're doing a solo
project to ease a **** out of your ****
on the throne of thrones...
but in real life interaction... you can't just expect
a naked body... coupled with Picasso's cubism et al.
brigade to give you a runner...
plus... i needed to take a ****...

  some Asians were playing supermarket car park
cricket late into the night...
how happy they must have been...
while i was... prowling... gearing up...

i knew that if i had a ****-issues... i'd be having
******* issue... ****! little Richard:
where on god's almighty earth did you leave
your hard-on batteries?!
why can't you be more: switch-on / switch-off?
why will you not succumb to
the easy-pathway of ingesting some chemicals:
fear of repercussions for "under-performing"?
to hell with that...

it works both ways... i might be in the mood...
the moon is almost full...
i feel a werewolf sitting on my shoulder...
nibbling it... i was expecting a crow biting my ear...
but i need to be in a "mood"...
  i can't do: it's raining therefore i'm thinking
of the many hues of blue mingling with
purple and green...

    i didn't ask for a *******...
     there were two prostitutes sitting gauging
their eyes out... i chose one...
but this other one... this party girl was gearing up...
and she was like: he said to me twice now...
thrice i can't take... i only chose one...
but she was not having any of it...
can i just have this one?
    apparently no... i had to take both of them...
because the one that was pretending to
be this bleached blonde wanted to be in on
the "action"...

            i thought about the jihadis...
yeah... you and those 72 virgins...
how about 72 prostitutes...
               boyo... you have another thing
coming...
                  it's hard... i'm not saying it's easy...
******* two women at once...
it's confusing... getting a blow-job while
at the same time ******* on some *******...
you try your hardest to keep a hard-on...
******* on *******... pretending to be a toddler...
while... all the while... you're getting ****** off...
it makes no sense...
   why? well... when you're getting ****** off
you want to communicate eye-contact...
but... you're disengaged from it by *******
a 2nd girl's *******...
so it's like...   x = z but y ≠ z...
    
       that's why i hate *******...
                what society sells...
my best resolve concerning a *******?
it's not what people who have perfected it
have imagined... reality is a tender little *****...
what's best about a *******?

you snuggle up to one girl, the one you like...
she performs a hand-job on you...
you kiss her face, her neck...
you sometimes interlude her with eye-contact...
she knows you're digging her...
she's pretty... tameable...
        
she's jerking your off... while the other girl?
she's cameo... she was the one instigating this
interaction... she's the party girl...
she's the one tickling your *******...
she's the one you're about to use her cleavage
for imitation of ****..
   she's the one about to take a shower
after you ******* full sprout...
******* duck-lips... botox etc.,

                 she's the one who initiated the *******...
i was only after the one i fancied...
how do i know? after we finished...
the one i ******* onto...
and myself... she took a shower...
i also took a shower... she sprayed me with her
perfumes...
i took a shower... dressed up...
the one i fancied... while i was dressing...
she
stood behind me... like a vampire...
body-size-difference...
she started massaging my back and shoulders...

two girls... self-evident competition...
the one i liked gave me the most ingenious
hand-job... i smoke a cigarette and managed
a hard-on...
             i liked her eyes... her eyes told me everything...
i was the supposed good-mad-man...
party girl wanted a piece...
duck-lips unattractive...

i was put off by their song choices...
i was thinking:
kid loco - rattlesnake rattle (she's my lover)
wax tailor - ungodly fruit
boozoo bajau - keep going...

    if i had a harem of women i'd first have to
educate them in what music is best
ingested when having ***..

   of the two? the part girl that suggested
we have a *******? competing interests...
again: wrong choice of music...
after *** she started rummaging through my rucksack...
like a teenager...
   she found... a few things... most notably
Ovid's ****** Poems...
she asked me... oh, **** me... not this again:
are you German?!

what is it with people having this skewed
physiognomy of entertaining me as
a ******* Deutsche?!
i don't mind... i find it kind of beneficial...
but... if there's this superstition about whites
being unable to tell the difference
between Somalis and Kenyans...
like **** we can't... imbeciles... like **** we can't!

in an interlude between ******* on *******
and getting a a *******... sorry...
threesomes might be a zenith...
but... there are no third person involvement...
i can't accommodate two women at once...
if i'm getting ****** off i'd like
a blinding eye-contact...

   i smoked a cigarette and got an immediate
hard-on on... readied for a hand-job
and a tickling of the *******...
however threesomes go...
i found the best "position"...
no... it's not about what ******* sells...
first time... find yourself best served...
one of the women is more willing than the other...
best scenario?
you cuddle up to the girl giving you a hand-job...
you kiss her *******... you kiss her cheeks...
her neck...
while the other girl looks on... as you hide your
face into the face of the girl doing the deed...
you get to implode voyeurism...
one's doing X...
the other is looking at you:

          O)

                    or )O...

   because you're cuddling up to the one
that's jerking you off... half of your face is "missing"...
but you're looking at her...
while she's tickling your *****...
half of your face lost in the girl you like...
you wanted to be alone... pristine *******...
but she was the one who wanted a party and a *******...

you wait before asking her to provide her *******
for a makeshift ******...
the girl jerking you off is still her most
tender self... eyes of doe...
the ******?
              i wasn't asking for a *******...
good... that i spend my hard earned money
on this... to hell with spending it on material:
immaterial byproducts of hush... oops...

a ******* only makes sense when
one of the girls is jerking you off while the second
girl is watching you being ****** off...
teasing your *****... then come the ****** providing
her ***** as a substitute ******...
eye-contact... i don't believe one can have
a persuasive ******* being
occupied by... a duality of oral ***...
receiving oral *** while giving oral ***...

it's so much better to find a balance of...
voyeurism...
one girl is jerking you off while the other is watching you...
eyes eat eyes...

oculus edo oculus - eye eat eye...
that's how eroticism works... at least...
that's what i've fathomed from finding Ovid...

mind you: ******* oversells certain theatrics...
no... it's not true... reality is a different game
to what's practised in this kind of theatre...
i've already mentioned it...
sometimes i want to please others...
but sometimes i want to please myself...
it's "fluid"...
                  to hell with the precursor needs of
outliers that homosexuals are...
                        if they are to be proud and i'm
to be shamed, no wonder my sometimes stretching
the hard-on "problem"...
but... no little wonder: how a little bit of cognac
and a drag of a cigarette can make due resolves...

threesomes... best scenario?
the one that you liked... the one you wanted to ****
solo... is giving you a hand-job...
while you're snuggling up to her
like some Norman Bates...
****'s freaky anyway... since there are three in a room...
and the one that instigated the *******
is peering into your eyes
like Aetos Kaukasios... the eagle eating Prometheus'
liver... she's the one rummaging through
your rucksack looking for...
sure as **** she wasn't looking for a book
by Ovid... she's the teenage girl that's unable
to find meaningful eye-contact during ***...
she has the fun-girl-sour look in her face...
   she can't be serious during ***... she has done too much
botox implants into her already duck-duck lips...

the one i wanted already knew that the one
who instigated this profanity just wanted...
she was the one so desperate to get ******...
i mean: becoming intimate is one thing...
couldn't we just have fooled around?
rather than stressing a belt and notches?!

i sometimes feel like a woman when i'm *******...
i just want to ease into oozing
with... when a spider ****** an octopus...

if that could happen to you, or me...
nothing was ever left as a reminder to be unlike
any prior man...
all we have are reminder of how it is: to be a man...
are we not to inherit what
it is, that all that is: is to allow ousrelves
to be human?

i tease... i watch these men coupled within
their subordinate selves...
shackled... oh too trying...
  rings on their ringers...
               tiresome, tired-breeds...
men who have never managed to range
into a reach of galloping on a horses' hind!
my god... men who have never had a *******...
it's a bit like relocating a voyeurism...
one jerks you off while another looks on...
and what is she good for?
tickling your *****...
   using her cleavage as a makeshift ******...
she's not welcome...

because the one you want to be with is
already: gauging your eyes out...
Solomon's harem: Autumn...
          the envy of Muhammad...
                                
prior: disorientating getting a blow-job
while ******* on *******...

Jonathan.