Tuesday 21 February 2012

Squirting

A fellow rickshaw rider told me that once, around Covent Garden, he saw two drunken women. One of them desperately needed to relieve her bladder. She went to a nearest doorway, put her pants down, squatted and started to pee. She was far too drunk though, for this kind of acrobatics. Suddenly she lost her balance and fell on her back. Nevertheless she couldn't stop peeing. So there she was: lying on her back with urine gushing from her pussy like a fountain.
Her friend was laughing so hard, that she nearly peed herself too.

Emancipation

You know those couples practically making out standing, her/his back against a wall, at night, in public places, don't you? Sure thing you do! Well, to be honest with you, sometimes they could be even more than just couples, like that lucky gay boy whom I saw one night on Old Compton Street being simultaneously jerked off and fingered by his two mates.
Those are extremities though, and much more frequently one can see couples enjoying themselves this way or another. Usually the initiative is taken by a male or a male-like partner who enthusiastically fingers a girl. Lately I spotted something significantly different. Last night I saw a girl pressed against the wall all right, by some fellow, however she smartly reached into that guy's pocket and was actually tossing him energetically. I hope he didn't cum in his pants. As a matter of fact it was all happening on the corner of New Oxford Street and Earnshaw Street, right by Centre Point. I was impressed.

Monday 13 February 2012

Snapshots

To be a rickshaw rider is all about living the way YOU want. It's about freedom. Freedom could be dangerous but it's a whole different story. It's enough to say that freedom has its price. Every now and then somebody calls you a prick. Sometimes someone promises to stab you in the neck. "Bigmouth strikes again!" - as Chumbawamba sang. "Water off duck's tail..." - as Alex Brownie says. Yet there is something that remains. It's as if your brain stored some pictures. There's that feeling too, as if you were dreaming or as if it was just a film you were watching...

I met those two very young Turkish lads. One of them was really pissed, he could hardly walk. Obviously they craved for some affordable, immediate, physical love without strings attached. Btw what they were looking for was actually available around the corner. I charged them upfront and got them there in no time. As I stopped I took a look behind. One of them was quite strangely positioned. Upper half of his body was hanging out of trike. He was all covered with his vomit and so was side of my rickshaw next to him. "FUCK ME!" - was all I could think or say about it. That instant he heavily fell on the floor and remained there, silent, motionless, positioned like some bizarre foetus. "Hassan! Hassan!" - his friend tried to wake and lift him up but that fellow just didn't seem to be there any more. As I was about to say that, in his actual condition, he probably won't get a hard on anyway, his friend looked at me and waved. "See you later." He didn't need to say it again.