The Polish Experience By Nicholas Westerby This ... - GetSab.Com

We were interrupted by the arrival of my burger. I offered her some but she said
she wanted to take a bath. So she did. I ate and flipped through the channels
until I caught a documentary about the rivalry in F1 that year.
“I love this.” She said emerging from the bathroom in the skimpiest towel
possible. I think it was meant for drying your face.
“You like F1?” I almost choked on my beer.
“I love it.” She said stealing my beer and nestling her back against my chest as
she slid between my legs. “Kubica is great isn’t he?”
I should have known. There was a Polish driver.
“He is ok I guess. If he raced for a proper team he would have a chance at
winning.” I commandeered my beer.
“I’ll wrestle you for it.” She said playfully.
I nodded and put the beer on the bedside drawer. She pounced on me as I did it
and as we rolled around laughing she lost her wash cloth and I was even happier
than I had been before.
She wasn’t as ghostly white as Cathy, obviously living in England this was a
sun bed job but I didn’t mind. She was darker on her joints but in the main she
had toffee-esque hue to her slim, toned physic. She had tiny nipples that
perched on her breasts. She was tall, taller than me and her legs that seemed