I hate poetry i always have, but sitting on the train from brussels to rome drove me nuts so i decided to write a poem about an experience in amsterdam, im a horrible poet so please bare with me.
I walked down the street and made a right, I smiled when i was the Red Lights. Right then it begun the internal feud, the symbol that i am a dude. A battel between my penis and brain, the testosterone drove me insane. A hooker on one shoulder an angel on the other, these girls in the windows belong on magazine covers.
She caught my attention when she banged on the glass, turning around she showed me her ass. She had long blonde hair and big blue eyes, along with perfect tits and the most beautiful thighs. In a white bikini and G-string she glanced I prayed to god she wouldn't stare at the bulge in my pants.
She stared at me with her innocent eyes unconsciously I knew it was a disguise. She opened the door and called me over, she placed one hand on my lips and the other on my shoulder. She raised 2 fingers too set the price, I desperately looked at the crowd for advice. I only received support from the men with the beers they yelled "at a 60% discount fuck her you queer".
As time progressed she made her last pass, she held me tight while I grabbed her ass. Plagued by desire but restricted by temptation I remembered the words of caution received in the train station.
After my final expression she ended our session. She kissed me goodbye as she guided my palm down then off her thigh. She said i would return once i was a man, I instantly became her number one fan.
At 18 years old i consider myself somewhat jaded, never in my life have i so seriously contemplated. As a travelpunk i live and never regret and i look forward to the girl i just met. And although I lost my chance on having Dutch I still haven't lost my touch considering i had Grade A german for breakfast, diner and lunch.
Btw. Im in rome right now, its great next stop is Perguia then Florence, the trip is fantastic more updates later.
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