JIBBY BREAM GALLERY
I was thrown into the back of a van in the middle of the night quite abruptly by someone dressed as Catwoman and I woke up on a green leather sofa in a very smart office the next morning.
A door opened and in walked Jibby Bream, wearing a leather and fur ensemble all by Brioni, big Prada sunglasses on her head, a Walter Steiger leopard and brown leather beauty bag with a gold zip around the circumference, fishnets, and super elevated brown croc studded strappy stilettos by Donna Karan. Rapture!
‘Darling, I need you for an exhibit. You are the one’ said plummy Jibby. All Sloanes are plummy, get used to it. I nodded, lying on the sofa totally naked. I had been emancipated of all garments.
‘Darrrling, I’m going to turn you into a piece of conceptual art. It’s a piece entitled “The Wanking Hobo” and it forms part of a larger permanent exhibition called ‘Sooooo Kinky’. So, darling, you’re going to be a work of art’ I looked at her shoes, of course I did, and my cock grew without the magic beans.
‘OK, Jibby’ I said. Everyone knows Jibby. Nobody fucks with her. She shoots hobos in the night.
‘Super fucking brilliant, darling’ she smiled. ‘Now come this way’
I followed her into the swanky main gallery and wow, what a scene. There was a large installation of video screens showing a woman repeatedly zipping up her knee high boot. The phonetics was amazing. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzip. In one corner was a gold dildo, as tall as a monument, poking up into the domed ceiling. Along another wing was a large leather penis on wheels, sporadically ejaculating Kelly Caleche cream perfume into a pot. There was a huge hologram of Penny Keats’ coiffured head with pearls repeating comments such as ‘Jerry, you naughty naughty boy’ and ‘Oh I say Tom, it’s a mini Matterhorn!’ There was a large baroque painting entitled ‘Two Dildos at Royal Ascot’ accompanied by a group of fashion models from Society Agency including Lily Bottomleigh all wearing Philip Treacy hats, enjoying Pimms and looking through croc leather binoculars. How awfully chic they were. There was a video of Skinny and Buxham, quite drunk; trying to ram their Prada stilettos up a chav’s bum in the lobby of a grand hotel. There were some photos of men jumping rooftops in designer boots. There were vintage Guy Bourdin prints and amorous sketches by caricaturists. There were many videos and holograms of tongues and lips licking and kissing shoes and handbags and very posh leather gloves wanking large penises in classical country house gardens.
‘Tonight is the opening party, darling. There’s your space’ said Jibby, smoking a cigarette in a croc leather holder pointing at some cardboard on the floor with a sign that read ‘The Wanking Hobo’ I sat down on the cardboard. It was warm.
‘Now start wanking and don’t stop until the party is over and all the guests have gone’ insisted Jibby, taking a puff on her cigarette holder. I looked at her Donna Karan shoes. It was easy to stay hard looking at those. On top of that Jibby had left an assortment of sex drugs in a small pink ostrich leather Hermes Kelly bag.
‘That’s it, darling, lots of wanking. There are going to be some very important people here this evening, so be very very naughty! People will be saying very naughty things to you.’ She walked off in her Brioni outfit.
‘I could fuck you’ I said.
‘Keep wanking’ she shouted from the other side of the gallery.
I wondered who would be turning up. I was getting quite excited. I took various sex pills, some of which I had no idea of the consequences. I might die here tonight, in the throes of sexual ecstasy. It had happened to a friend. He took a new pill called Everlust. He spent a day coming, like someone who can’t stop being sick due to sea sickness, well this was similar, only instead of vomiting, he was climaxing. He was at Royal Ascot and he died at the pub afterwards of a stroke. Everlust, a very tricky customer indeed. I made myself comfortable on the cardboard bed and masturbated for a bit. When Jibby was out of sight, I watched Penny Keats’ say some things.
At about seven thirty in the evening a few guests arrived. I recognized them straight away. It was Skinny and Buxham. Skinny was wearing a short dress made entirely of little gold dildos by Hussein Chalayan, a silk trailing scarf by Gucci, and a pair of John Galliano super elevated black leather knee-high boots with wood heels and zips down the inside and outside. She was sporting an orange leather zip-detail glove-clutch by Alexander McQueen. She looked ravishing. Buxham was wearing figure hugging leather down one side of her torso and was completely naked elsewhere, aside from a delicious pink leather covered strap-on penis, with studs. Izzy would be proud. She wore strappy black croc platform stilettos by Zuhair Murad, oh yes those ones, and carried a very large D Squared black croc leather zip bag with gold zips.
‘Oh it’s a pikey’ said Buxham, swinging her bag in my direction ‘Let’s go and piss on him’
‘Later, darling. There are other things to see’ said Skinny, pivoting on a boot heel.
‘Naughty lovely things to see. Jibby’s an absolute wiz’ Skinny continued.
‘I’ll be pissing on you later, you fucker’ smiled Buxham. I’m not even sure they recognized me from the events at Brompton Cross. Maybe they want their Porsche seats cleaning? I started wanking. Jibby was double kissing Skinny and Buxham; congratulating them on their latest TV show ‘How Your Shoes Can Make You Completely Fuckable’. A screen flashed on at the back which showed a close up two fine horses fucking on a glorious hillside in the Cotswolds. Grunting and all. It tied in with the Ascot section.
Then Sarah Cavendish-Peel entered from a Bentley limo. Oh she was divine. My willy went into double takes. Antonio oh Antonio. God I wished I was Hugo again. Maybe Hugo will turn up. What a moment it would be. The first time the two bodies used by the same mysterious person will have been in the same room. It could be very interesting. Sarah CP was wearing a Chalayan zebra print fur top which barely came down to her waist. She proudly exhibited her neatly trimmed pussy. She strutted across the marble floor of the gallery in high heeled black leather thigh boots, with leather garter straps at the top, also by Chalayan. She carried an YSL Downtown bag, with a zebra silk scarf wrapped around the handle. I lay on the floor watching her exchange kisses with Jibby. Jibby could not stop feeling her leather boots. The Krug was starting to flow.
‘Darling, where’s Hugo?’ Asked Jibby with her trademark cigarette holder.
‘Oh he went orf into Surrey with some tarts and hasn’t been back for days’ Sarah said fluttering her big eyelashes like Cleopatra.
‘He’s insatiable, he would have loved my show’ said Jibby.
‘Maybe’ said Sarah ‘although he can be strangely moody about kinky sex. He suddenly became a shoe fetishist, you know. For absolutely years he exhibited no interest in my huge collection of designer shoes and one morning he insisted on kissing a pair of Gucci platforms I had just bought on Sloane Street’
‘Was he just experimenting, darling. He may have been trying to spice things up a bit’
Sarah shook her long mane of blonde hair ‘No, it was the full-blown thing. He really had a passion for those Gucci shoes. Just as suddenly his fetish for shoes went away, which was weird, and then it came back at my leopard and leather party with a vengeance. Which is just as well, I’d spent an awful lot of money on new Moschino boots.’
‘Absolutely darling’ purred Jibby ‘and you’ve come dressed to kill this evening. Those thigh high boots are sooo divine. I think the wanking hobo will appreciate them. He has fetishes for ladies shoes.’
‘Oh yah, you mentioned it briefly, the wanking hobo, is that him over there?’ Sarah pointed in my direction. They both strutted over, with champagne flutes.
‘Oh he’s rather sweet’ said Sarah ‘Terribly common, but sweet. Early twenties I would say’ I had a worm’s eye view of the gorgeous Sloaney Sarah, as I leered at the grainy leather shine of her Chalayan boots, leading the way to her vagina on show for all to see. I wanked like there was no tomorrow.
‘Darling hobo’ Jibby said to me ‘Now that’s brilliant. A fine rhythm you’ve got going. Exquisite in fact’
‘Oh yah’ brayed Sarah, swinging the lovely YSL bag ‘Jolly exquisite, Hugo would be proud’.
‘It’s perfectly disgusting’ said Skinny, who had come over to join the chat. And lots of chat there was, about this and that. I kept tossing the caber, on the floor, at times almost coming into contact with a heel.
‘Now kiss my boots!’ Demanded Sarah, in a firm RP voice. ‘Lick my expensive heels you disgusting peasant’. This was good. Very ritualistic.
‘Yahh, lick her fucking heels’ added Skinny
‘And keep wanking while you do, darling’ insisted Jibby
‘Don’t ever stop kissing my boots’ affirmed Sarah, swigging her champagne and swinging that YSL bag, zips glinting in the gallery lights. I loved to see a good designer leather handbag moving to good effect, with all the embellishments twinkling. I’ve often been in Yves Saint Laurent on Sloane Street and the Downtown bag had often caught my attention. I had seen many models parading up and down Kings Road carrying one.
The sound of that John Galliano zipping boot was perpetually in the background. Sarah’s friend Charlotte Foggins entered wearing a classic green Chanel tweed skirt suit, the skirt being exceptionally short, flower patterned Wolfords, a brown leather Lancel bag and Prada platform heels, two-tone green and black leather. Her Versace silk scarf had fancy pictures of large erect willies and elegant ladies’ hands printed on it.
More guests arrived. The magnificent seven from Quentessentially.com entered the gallery, stiletto heels click-clicking across the polished marble. They were all wearing ravishing outfits and carrying large leather designer bags, naturally, lead by Zara Parker-Pumpkinson with large green leather Marc Jacobs Stella bag and her husky posh accent. There was the ever cheerful Venetia Leerbourn-Zeal, the oh so posh Georgia Barton-Batting, sweet sexy Lucy Possomsby, tall and feisty Jemima Barnes, Izzy Buckworth-Chard who was at the Serpentine event, and the awfully softly spoken Olivia Cheltenham.
Lady Trammerton entered with two pugs, wearing an Alexander McQueen red and black skirt suit and a large hat made of shiny ribbed red leather, with a zip around the circumference. She wore classic black leather Manolo Blahnik court shoes with gold studs on the heel and carried a gorgeous red crocodile Prada bag with a zip along the side. Her gloves were black leather, by Mulberry and had two zips at the sides. Naughty Lady Trammerton. She carried an exquisite walking cane and strutted over to the group of ladies surrounding me. I could see up her skirt and she was wearing a butterfly vibrator. She rested the gold tip of her cane on my chin and it suddenly started vibrating. She moved the tip down my chest to my cock and held it on my helmet. It was very stimulating.
‘A hobo’s big cock!’ announced Lady Trammerton.
The group of women burst out laughing, pivoting on high heels and swigging champagne.
‘It’s a good size, darling’ added Venetia
Venetia was wearing an orange flowery see through minidress and orange leather knee high boots by Jimmy Choo with a black leather Jimmy Choo Mahala bag and a quirky black hat saying ‘Zeal’ in a curve over her head. One day Hugo will be having his wicked way with Venetia. That word ‘Zeal’ will be bobbing up and down.
‘He seems to enjoy kissing ones boots’ nodded Sarah.
‘Super’ said Venetia ‘Kiss my Jimmy Choos you dirty pikey’
‘Oh inspired, darling, truly inspired’ sang Jibby moving nicely in her Brioni leather and fur ensemble dress.
‘I’m almost tempted to sit on his face and piss on him’ laughed Buxham, who had an irresistible urge to do so, and by the end of the evening I imagine she will succumb, after lots of booze.
‘Oh you simply must’ added Olivia playing with the zips on her Gucci zips bag.
Olivia was wearing a fishnet top showing her tits, a blue fur choker, a large black feathery Philip Treacy creation for a hat, leather gloves in purple by Prada, a dark brown mini skirt by Hermes with matching belt, and black leather strappy sandals by Giuseppe Zanotti with a back heel zip.
‘You simply must sit on his face while I suck his cock, ha ha’ Olivia whispered. The quiet ones are always the naughtiest, they say.
‘Oh Olivia, darling, you naughty thing’ said Lucy, sitting on a nearby leather chaise longue, with a large gold penis along the top of it. I was wanking hard, as Lady Trammerton had withdrawn her cane and was stimulating Zara’s clit, who was now on the chaise longue with her legs akimbo. Zara’s leopard print shorts were unzipped and Lady Trammerton’s cane was in there. I looked at Zara’s pleasured face and her feet wriggling in Azzedine Alaia dark green leather strappy platforms. Posh feet in posh shoes and posh moans from Zara’s posh face. I almost came, but I held back. Zara did not recognize me at all from an earlier encounter.
Jibby took some photos of Lady Trammerton’s cane penetrating Zara. Dirty Jibby. A group of naked male models got out of a limo and entered and were automatically greeted by various women. More guests were arriving, including Barwick Ford and Zita Zippa, in her usual black leather Givenchy number and sky high shoes. I saw Henrietta Beauchamp-Slutto in ripped jodhpurs and thigh high Prada boots and a plastic see-through top with studs on it. Very avant garde for Henrietta. Kinky riding chic! She wore a leather riding hat and carried a whip. She whipped a few male models across their bums, as they drank Krug. One of Lady Trammerton’s pugs was fucking a Hermes Birkin bag; it must have been related to Charleston, Liza Blow’s dirty dog. The pug was clearly in a state of rapture as it pushed the bag into my bum. I could feel the soft cold leather, as the pug fucked at it like it was the sexiest lady pug in the world.
The party was a full on orgy by midnight, with lots of action abounding all around, as I wanked away, having come a few times already. I had a very nice orgasm while watching Zara being prodded by Lady Trammerton with Lady Trammerton saying ‘That’s it Zara old girl, work those hips. Zara also administered a large navy blue leather dildo of her own while Lady Trammerton continued to play clitty with the cane tip. Zara made me lick the juice off her dildo.
‘Lick my leather dildo clean you fucking gypo!’ Laughed Zara, crouching down, with her leopard shorts unzipped at the front and her Alaia shoes stained from come and champagne.
‘Uhhhhhhh uuhhhhh’ I came everywhere, all over the cardboard. Olivia, Jibby, Sarah and Skinny applauded. Jibby pushed the Kelly bag of pills closer to me, urging me to take more sex drugs. I indulged in several pills. I continued wanking my excited member. More high profile guests were arriving from both celebrity and aristocratic circles. I saw Princess Zuleika of Aromia and Ed Bunt-Batt going at it on the big pumping leather penis, Zuleika’s hair falling back into the basin of Kelly Caleche cream perfume, as Ed pounded away gritting his teeth. Princess Zuleika was wearing two leather starfish by Versace, one covering her boobs and one on her head as a hat; she wore strappy high heeled gladiator boots by Balenciaga with zips up the front. She kicked those booted legs high as Ed pumped away. I saw a male model sitting on the crossed-leg of one of the Ascot models, wanking furiously. A bit of naughty knee-sitting. She was elegantly sipping Pimms, so very Beatonesque in her broad black and white feathery hat.
Skinny and Buxham were still standing above me chatting about stuff. Barwick and Henrietta were snogging passionately against the front glass window. The place was alive with sex. No sign of Hugo Posset.
I saw Georgia Barton-Batting sit on the chaise longue and cross her long legs. I ached to get up and sit on her lovely knee, all I could do was imagine and wank and wank. She saw that my attention was on her. She was beautiful in her Lanvin navy blue silk bow mini dress and black patent leather knee high boots with gold inside zips by Sergio Rossi and a long red crocodile clutch bag by Salvatore Ferragamo with two gold zips on both sides. She got up and came strutting over, stiletto boots click-clicking. She put her left booted foot up against my lips.
‘Now kiss the patent leather, pikey!’ Georgia’s accent was old money posh and husky. I wanked fast. I kissed the smooth patent leather. I could see reflections of people fucking in them. She drank from the bottle, a large bottle of Krug and she was smoking.
‘Sooo, you were on the streets of Chelsea? How terribly chic’ she said, as I kissed the round zip pull near her knee. She giggled, spilt some Krug. Jibby was taking photos of me kissing her zip pull. Buxham was eating from a tray of expensive cakes and chocolates, laced with drugs.
A few gatecrashers managed to get in, namely a guy whose old van had broke down outside and a woman with only one leg with a scrawny mongrel dog.
I looked up Georgia’s dress and saw her lovely pussy, slightly wet. Her eyes were firmly on my big cock as I wanked. Then she straddled my loins and I watched her smooth bum come down on my cock. We fucked and fucked.
‘Um, sorry Georgia darling, it’s supposed to be “The Wanking Hobo” not the “The Hobo Fucking Posh PR Girl” Jibby was cross.
‘Awfully sorry Jibby’ said Georgia, straightening up her dress and twiddling her disheveled blonde hair. ‘I was sooo wanting to fuck the pikey, so sorry darling’. She stood there in her boots checking her make up and drinking more booze, from trays passing by.
‘Unlucky Georgia darling’ said Venetia.
‘Jibby’s always watching’ winked Lucy, fingering a long snag in her Wolfords, cross-legged on the chaise longue.
‘Yah, she only allows him to wank’ said Jemima giggling, playing with her hair as all ex-public school girls do. She was at Marlborough.
‘They say he was sleeping rough on Fulham Road’ added Olivia ‘I didn’t think that sort of thing was allowed in Chelsea since Lamley got in.’
‘I don’t think the police care about smelly hobos that much’ said Lucy. ‘Oh my god, Georgia, his cock’s been up you!’
‘Yah, and it was terribly good’ moaned Georgia, crossing her booted legs on the chaise longue.
Zara overheard ‘Here, Georgia darling, finish yourself off with my big blue leather dildo. I’ve called it Cameron! Ha ha’. There was snorts and laughter. Georgia uncrossed her legs.
‘Yah, go at it with Cameron, darling’ urged Jibby, smoking a Sobranie twirling the cigarette holder rakishly. Nearby, a male model was being ordered by Buxham and Skinny to sit on a champagne bottle. Buxham clapped, as her strap-on leather penis bobbed up and down. Skinny was making him kiss her Alexander McQueen clutch bag. Dirty bitches. They loved men doing things to their bottoms for some reason. The one legged woman was admiring the Guy Bourdin prints. Her mongrel dog was eating an éclair on the floor, laced with Everlust. Most of the cakes were having an effect on the guests.
It was approaching one o’clock in the morning and a gold Rolls Royce convertible was waved into the gallery via the large sliding side door. The chauffeur; she was a spitting image of Honor Blackman in green leather skirt suit and matching peaked cap and knee high stiletto boots by Christian Louboutin. She even spoke like Honor Blackman, but it was a simulacrum. A sensational simulacrum. She opened the door for Lord Baslington, who was wearing a purple studded top hat and and thong with studs down the front. The Honor Blackman simulacrum produced a black leather Juicy Couture Jezebel clutch bag with double zips down the side of it and proceeded to rub the zips up and down the bulging front of Lord Baslington’s studded thong causing quite intense vibrations. Jibby moved in with her camera, smiling and crouching.
Jibby snapped away ‘Oh darling, darling, darrrrrling! Gorgeous Lord Bazzer! I love the chauffeur; she looks exactly like Honor Blackman. What a super simulacra. Oh those darling scientists are terribly clever these days.’
‘Indeed they are Jibby’ breathed Lord Baslington, trying not to climax, despite the zippy pleasures of the Jezebel playing violin on his crotch ‘I paid a few billion for her, she’s a bloody good chauffeur too and she’s awfully adept at securing theatre tickets at the Royal Court’
‘He loves the Royal Court’ said the simulacrum Honor.
‘Oh you are a fabulous thing, darling’ brayed Jibby ‘in fabulous Louboutin’
‘She goes like a fucking rocket, never ever tires, never never’ said Lord Baslington. ‘Just as well, as I have an enhanced robotic cock, developed by Masters and Jones. Oh they say I’m mad, but fuck me, I care not a jot’.
‘Jolly super’ said Jibby, watching Honor continually rub Lord Baslington’s bulge, which he clearly liked a lot. I was watching and wanking over the scene. It was decadence beyond compare. Guests gravitated to the gold Rolls Royce. There was some conversation with Lord Baslington, who laughed and snorted as the seats of his Rolls Royce were commandeered for furious kinky sex with an array of sex toys, some of which came as part of the car’s deluxe special equipment. I imagine, they too, were under warranty. I saw Skinny and Buxham get on the back seat with the man whose van broke down, who happened to be a large strapping chap who rowed for Oxford who Jibby certainly approved of. There would be no trash hitting this party, aside from me, the wanking hobo. I wasn’t tiring, I was as hard as ever, but I was not coming for ages, really restraining my urge to climax. I saw Buxham fucking the van driver with her strap-on.
Lord Baslington came over and pissed on my leg. He laughed and walked off to get a drink. Then he came back over with a full bottle of Krug in one hand. ‘Stand up you gypsy, stand up and wank like a man, don’t be lying down there with no dignity! Have some pride’
‘Ha ha ha, oh Lord Baslington’ said Lady Trammerton ‘you must be having a ball with your new bionic member.’
‘Yahh, deffo, Trammers. Once that fucking shark in the Thames had severed it orf, I had to get a new one. Luckily the shark spat it out, which was jolly sporting of the fellow. No hard feelings for the shark.’ Lord Baslington was a madman, through and through.
‘Super darling’ smiled Lady Trammerton, switching on her cane.
‘Quite, the surgeons at Masters and Jones are wizards with new cock technology; I get better bloody orgasms now than I did when I was a teen! Ha ha ha’ Lord Baslington ripped off his thong and his techno-lance stood erect like a butternut squash. There were gasps of approval from guests. Lady Trammerton ran her vibrating cane up and down his shaft as they chatted about gardens.
I decided to try on Lord Baslington’s thong. The Lord noticed and summoned Honor over and told her to give me the ‘zip clutch on the crotch’ treatment. I came within five minutes, the zipping sensation was too great and the smell of Honor’s leathers and her husky voice was all too much. I shot my load.
‘Hah ha ha hahh’ bellowed Lord Baslington. ‘Again! Old chap. Again’
Honor went at my bulge again; I was hard as ever, this time I managed to last longer.
‘I bet you come first’ I said.
Lady Trammerton winked at me and concentrated the powerful vibrating tip of her cane on Lord Baslington’s throbbing helmet. I could see he was gritting his teeth in unbridled pleasure, be was on the super brink. I watched him moan and shoot his spunk all over Lady Trammerton’s red ribbed leather hat turning it into a fly agaric.
Jibby clapped and cheered on the chaise longue with Sarah Cavendish-Peel and Charlotte Foggins. Most of the Quentessential girls were cheering. Henrietta Beauchamp Chatto looked on, with Barwick still pumping her from behind. Princess Zuleika and Ed Bunt-Batt were still riding the big leather cock of love, trying unique positions. Lady Trammerton’s pug was busy shagging a Balenciaga Lariat bag that belonged to Tamara Wirt, another model. She was busy snorting Charles off Lord Baslington’s modified penis. Tamara had a fetish about snorting coke off willies. She was often reminded of it by her friends at posh restaurants. Once she pulled a horny waiter’s pants down in Maziti and snorted the white stuff off his penis. She was expelled from Lady Frances Bowland’s College for snorting coke off a model’s penis during an art lesson. She was here tonight, doing exactly that, to as many willies as she could find. Sometimes she substituted coke with the icing sugar on cakes, as she was getting close to overdosing. I took a few Ultrasex pills and laid down on the cardboard, watching spunk and champagne bespattered designer shoes and boots perform their magic. By four o’clock in the morning, the floor was getting uncomfortable, so I laid on my front for a while, fucking the soft leather Balenciaga Lariat bag that belonged to Tamara. It was strangely vaginal. Tamara sat on the chaise longue, in a ripped T-shirt, a very short red leather skirt and black YSL covered platform shoes. Her big hair was a flurry. She sat there, spaced out, rubbing her clit, watching me fuck her Balenciaga bag.
‘My bag is sooo hot’ she slurred and giggled.
‘Oh it is’ I panted, looking up her skirt.
‘My bag has been fucked by a pug, darling. You’re having it after a dog has spunked on it. Oh well, you are a pikey’
I was double hard again, excited by her coked up posh accent and YSL high heels. I sat down and wanked, watching her play with her pussy. Zara Parker-Pumpkinson joined her on the chaise longue and stuck a long tongue into her ear. Tamara giggled with a big toothy grin.
‘Tamara darling, have you met Cameron?’ Zara produced the goods from her stained Stella bag. Tamara licked the dildo on the helmet, fluttering large mascara eyes and rubbed the buzzing helmet of the dildo against her clit. Zara crossed her legs and watched me wank.
‘That dirty hobo finds us terribly stimulating, darling. Look at him wanking like there’s no tomorrow. How’s the dildo?’ Zara had been chatting all night and her voice was huskier than ever. I looked at her feet in those ridiculously expensive, ridiculously high heeled Alaias. I wanked and wanked. The Ultrasex pills were good ones. Barwick Ford came over with a bottle of Krug and sat on Zara’s knee.
‘Hello Zara you old slut’ said Barwick, playing with his cock. ‘I say, it’s Tamara Wirt, what a hotty. She loves a bit of cake off the cock’
‘She’s having a moment with Cameron, darling’ purred Zara. ‘While that pikey gets off on it’
‘Fucking dirty cunt’ said Barwick, rubbing his shaft, pouring Krug in Zara’s mouth.
‘Mmmmmm, I think this is all rather cozy, darling’ said Zara ‘we could almost be at Cadogan Square, in the sitting room’
‘No fucking hobos in my sitting room’ said Barwick, looking at me with his pissed up face, dribbling as he wanked off. To, think, when I’m Hugo he’s one of my best mates. He’s alright I suppose. While I’m Tom the pikey, there’s no rapport, though. Lucky bastard sitting on old Pumpkinson’s knee. Oh wow, look at Tamara get naughty with that dildo. I bet she’d look fantastic at a posh restaurant snorting Charles off the shaft of that beast of blue leather. Shaft. What a great word. I remember a beautiful posh brunette called Helena saying the word ‘shaft’ in the Duke once, she said it over and over with such a passion and then finished with a fit of giggles, spilling her white wine Spritzer. Who could I possibly be?
‘Bloody shame Hugo’s lost’ said Barwick, coming on Zara’s foot.
‘Oh lovely, darling. More spunk on my fucking shoes. I’ll just have to get the dirty hobo to lick it all off’ smiled Zara. Tamara giggled, moaning over Cameron. Hmm, licking Barwick’s manjuice off Zara’s shoes will be a challenge. Zara put her foot in my face and I licked salty come off the leather straps and spat it out as I wanked fast. Zara snorted and laughed as I did so.
‘That’s it, darling, get right in there, and kiss polish them when you’ve finished licking the dirt off’ Zara insisted.
Barwick sat back and drank more Krug. ‘I’m glad you didn’t swallow, Mr Wanking Hobo, I don’t want you having my babies. Ha ha ha’
Tamara giggled.
‘More Krug anyone, there’s a fucking endless supply of this cheap shit back there, ha ha ha’ Barwick was on form as he guzzled. Several people were in the back of Lord Baslington’s gold Rolls Royce as he told Honor to start it up. Tamara got up and clambered in the back with Skinny and Buxham. Zara grabbed me by the arm and we hopped in the front next to Honor. Princess Zuleika tottered over her Balenciaga gladiator stiletto boots and swung a leg over and landed on me. Everyone had a bottle of Krug. Jibby insisted on getting in too, smoking a long long Sobranie.
‘Where are we going?’ sang Jibby
‘To a party’ said Lord Baslington.
‘Oh super darling, a party, how awfully super’ purred Skinny Boodle.
‘Soooo cool’ said Buxham, stroking her pink leather strap on, waving her D Squared croc leather zips bag.
‘Do we have to take the smelly hobo?’ said Princess Zuleika.
‘Yah, we’ll turn him into a gentleman’ said Zara.
‘Oh of course’ giggled Buxham.
‘I’ve got the hots for Zara’s friend Cameron’ said a very spaced out Tamara Wirt, in her short short red leather skirt, gripping her Balenciaga bag.
‘We mustn’t leave this’ said tall and feisty Jemima Barnes, coupling the big leather penis on wheels to the tow bar of the car.
‘Yes, and you must ride it!’ Laughed Zara.
‘Oh I’m on it!’ smiled Jemima. And the car drove out of the large side doors.
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