Here is some more erotica to keep you moist this week!
This week's erotica may ring true for any of you who live in a city, work on a zero hour contract, are on a budget and are slowly prepping for that dreaded tax return...
(It's almost entirely based on my previous flat and flatmates in South London.)
[This is a picture of me trying to look cool in Australia]
It was Friday night, it was Movember and the air of London was heavy with mystery, opportunity, and regret.
In other words, it was foggy.
Jenna had just finished cycling home from the gym, she was hot and sweaty, her body tired and tender from an intense night of Zumba Classes.
After scrunching up her portable bicycle in the small hall of her Dickensian, cosy, semi-detached townhouse in South London, (Stockwell), which she shared with 18 other tenants, not including small children and unknown rodents, she limped down into the basement, unlocking her newly rebuilt front door, (recently replaced after last month’s burglary).
She slipped her soggy body into the sweltering heat of her balmy basement flat.
£800 per calendar month. Before bills. ;)
“Oh how naughty!" she coughed as she looked around her minimalist palace, decorated in IKEA bedsheets draped across lone radiators and door handles, “I see the big black mould has returned in the bathroom. We do need to sort that damp out!”