I’ve had two bookings this week where the gents wanted facesitting, moreso the gent from last night. It was almost a full hour of facesitting and I could barely move my legs when I finally climbed off the chap. Funnily enough not too sore this morning to see a lovely frisky French gent from near Pimlico for a morning booking of slap and tickle.
Tell you what though, Victoria Stn on a Saturday morning? It was worse than normal rush hour. Tourists abounded, especially the group ones where the group leader carries a flag to prevent losing one of their parties. I’m glad to be back home underneath the duvet.

Do you remember the gent I previously mentioned who had gotten his underwear mixed up with his face flannel and soaked his underpants and couldn’t wear them home? Well, he was my Thursday facesitting appointment and I was teasing him mercilessly. Remember he had to go “commando” on the train and the poor thing, ahem, chafed his dangly bits and was a bit sore for a few days afterwards. That’ll teach you, won’t it P.

So he was bit more prepared this time, made sure he had his kecks in his right hand, his face flannel in his left and thank goodness he didn’t confuse the two again.