Sunday, April 22, 2012

What Really Destroyed Pompeii?

(Author's note: I'm in a tutorial. The chick in front of me is writing about Syrian foreign policy. I'm writing about getting laid in Pompeii. Winning).

OK, so now you know what this blog is about. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?

Face it, if you come to read my shit you aren't here for the destination. You're here for the journey. And I have a journey for you today.

About a year and a half ago now, I was travelling around Italy. I've long believed that I have an Italian soul or that I was one in a past life. I love their food, I love their cars, their rich and interesting history, the sounds, the smells...and the people are pretty hot also. Following the end of my probation on a vandalism and drug charge from the year before and with money saved, I felt it was time to celebrate. With my cousin getting married in London in early December (stories for another time) I planned 10 days in Italy before and a few days in Paris after.

Roma itself is worth several blogs, but today I want to talk about Pompeii because that was, up to that point, the greatest experience of my life.

I had gone on a day trip coach tour to explore the ruins of Pompeii. Roman history has long been a fascination of mine dating back to a youth wasted reading Asterix comics. While Asterix and Obelix never visited Pompeii per se, I figured I probably had to just to see this buried city. Any place where the rich Romans used to holiday has got to be pretty hektic in its own way. And it was.

If you ever go to Rome I highly recommend a visit. Even though it's ruins there's some parts which are insanely well preserved. You can still see a lot of art that was etched into the walls, for one. I especially enjoyed the old brothel for obvious reasons - they had some, shall we say, very artistic representations of coitus.

After your blogger was done exploring, we retired to the hotel by the ruins where we were offered free limoncello tasting. Now as you all know I'm about as likely to turn down free booze, especially exotic booze, as I am to turn down a night of ecstasy with Jared Leto. However the girl offering me the freebies just took this from "sick, free liquor" to "I hope this is some kind of elaborate porno scene."

She was tall - a couple inches taller than me in her boots - and had long dark hair. I'm not the most poetic guy but her curves, eyes, legs...let's just say the regular Danny Diablo in me was being replaced by Dante for the moment.

Now my sexual performance tends to jump a few notches when I'm on holiday. However for me to get this chick inside my pants would be an act on par with Seal landing Heidi Klum.

"Grazie," I squeeze out as she passes me a shot of limoncello.

"Prego." I skull the shot like I'm doing tequila at 2am. Big mistake. This shit is strong. And she's laughing. Well not unkindly. She's seen this before.

"Un altro, per favore."

"Certamente. Si parla italiano?"

"Un piccolo." My Italian isn't terrible but no one would ever mistake me for fluent.

"Molto bene! Sei ingles?"

God no. "No. Australien. Si parla ingles?" One thing I've learnt in Roma is that almost every Italian has some command of English.

"Yes. A little." And for the next half an hour we talked about Italy and Australia (she's never been but wanted to) and I'm feeling pretty damn good until I checked my mobile.

Fuck. I missed the bus back to Roma. Sorry babe, gotta go.

However, as it turns out there's no way I'm getting back to Rome that evening. The last regular bus left half an hour ago and there's no train station in Pompeii. I'm gonna have to stay here for the night and dip into my emergency (read; pissup) cash.

Next stumbling block. The only room the hotel has is a honeymoon suite. Thankfully the manager takes pity on me (after all, being late because you were trying to seduce a woman is hardly a bad thing to the Italian lothario) and lets me have it for regular price.

Nice digs too. Anyone who's ever seen a honeymoon suite knows what to expect. Heart shaped bed, champagne, erotic art on the walls. After the long days of sightseeing and longer nights of partying I've been engaging in since I got to Roma, I could use a good night's sleep. Yeah. Room service, champagne and sleep. This is how to travel.

I've stripped down to my boxers, got some Tupac playing and am about to hit the shower when the door opens. I really should lock that thing even when I'm in...HOLYMOTHEROFFUCKINGJESUSALLAHBUDDHAIT'SHER.

"Can I come in?"

"Of course." Quick recovery. Smooth move Ash. "You want champagne?" Cause I'm all smooth like that.

"I wouldn't mind." Thankfully she uncorks the bottle as I put a shirt on but leave my legs bare. If she didn't run at that it's pretty obvious what's happening...

"The TV downstairs is broken, so I was wondering if I could see the football up here?"

Whatta letdown. "Sure." She's just using me for my TV. "I'm going for a shower now."

Get inside the bathroom, strip down, before I get in the shower (I never draw the curtains)...yep, she's followed me in.

"Oi. No peeking."


"Just kidding. You may look."

I think this is as good a time as any to mention that my dick could cut diamonds right now.

"Touching will cost you though."

"Oh really? And how much might that be?" Fuck I love her voice.

"I don't know...maybe you need to do something for me first?"

I don't even need specifics. Off comes the top. "Like this?"

"Come closer." She complies as she reaches out and grabs me by the penis.

"You can shower later. Let us drink champagne." Whoa. I'm not the boss anymore. Whatever. I'm getting led out of the shower by my cock.

"If you wanna do that, it's my turn to do something." I start taking her jeans off. They're so tight I end up giving her a pretty good leg massage as I remove them.

"Oh yes. No, no, further up."

"Oh no. That's for something else." Push her on the bed and start on her pussy with my tongue. She doesn't shave - not many girls here seem to - but at least it's not 70s porno bush. I can live with a bit of hair. Especially when she's getting wetter and wetter the more I work it. Awwww yeah. And she has an awesome clit. It's the biggest I've ever seen in person. It's almost like a tiny penis. I could fuck with this thing all day.

"Lie on your back. I'm coming in your mouth."

"No, no, I do not do that."

"Come on..."

"No. But I will do this." She climbs off the bed and leans her back against the side, manoeuvering herself until my throbbing dick is on her man clit.

"No going inside yet big boy. Work it." I think she wants me to rub her clit with my dick. Okay baby. I'll let you have your fun now.

"Get back on the bed." My turn to be the boss as I climb on top of her. I don't particularly enjoy missionary but I usually feel it's conventional to start with it. Eventually after five minutes of thrusting combined with manual stimulation she has her first orgasm of the night and it's time to try something else. I'm not close to coming yet.

Luckily she enjoys doggy style, although anal sex is a no. Fair enough. I didn't pack lube in my backpack anyway. Cock in pussy, work those nipples. Fuck this is awesome. I know I'm going in deeper than she's ever had before.

To be honest, I could write for a couple of hours on this. Eventually I ended up coming like Vesuvius on Pompeii following a particularly rough cowgirl ride (which had been preceded with reverse cowgirl and a Magic Bullet) and we just lay in bed the rest of the night watching soccer together. Turns out she was a Lazio fan and to this day, so am I.

I'm not the greatest at describing sex, so don't buy too much into what I've written here. Just know that it's still in the three greatest nights of my life.

Coming next will be a boy-sex story so those who are grossed out by that sorta thing may wanna avoid.

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