” “Oh, Fifty Thousand Postcards, it’s near her hotel.” “Have a good time, pet,” she leaned in again and kissed me, her tongue invading me... making my cock twitch in unison to her tongue thrusting. I just loved that place. They sold Weston’s organic cider on draught as well as Friuli fruit beer; the food was great as well. I paid the bill and left the restaurant, then walked through to my place on the avenue above the Chine. The house was in a very select haven of six others, but very private,. Unless, of course, they were about to fry some onions.Hence, I had an apron on. A very silly, old apron, that someone had given to me, thinking, 'yeah, Phil can wear that at barbecues,' Actually, probably thinking, 'oh shit, it's December 24, and I haven't bought Phil anything.' Still, it had been used. Even if it was corny, with it's stupid 'Kiss the Cook' picture, it did serve an important purpose in standing between my genitals and cooking oil hissing and spitting on the stove top.Of. More

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