Well.. I do say..
That was simply the best meal I've had out in donkeys years. Truly the dogs pyjamas. It's no wonder it's in the Michelin guide, no Burger King or kebab Princesses here, let me tell ye. Not the usual 3 in 1 I got for, but this night was a special occasion.. a celebration of love and good fortune of which I am eternally grateful. A ham sanger and a wank would not suffice this Valentines Day to be sure to be sure.
I brought my love through the open legs of Ananda and up to her warm bosom for an Indian embrace. All in after a tamarind cocktail to lube us up for an evening of meat slapping and spicey divilment. It was Saint Valentines birthday, after all..
Another entrée young Rajesh! We were here to spend. I had just landed a new high paying role with a formidable company and was in a feckless mindset brought on by the sexual ambience and perky nature of my lover. The service was uplifting, they hilariously all wait patiently about 2 foot away so as not to intrude and wait to be called, even though they know exactly when ye need another cocktail. Lol. Makes you feel like a real (Burger) King summoning his servants to dispose of your freshly filled nappies. Another tequila young squire!
The food..a delight for all the senses, "tudo perfeito," my luscious Latin lady would later go on to whisper in my ear at the nightly climax. Usually, I'd fill a doggy bag to bring home for Max, but on this occasion, we left the plates emptier than a french synagogue in 1943. Massive portions busting with more spice than the brasserie in front of me around my wifes neck desperately trying to secure in her enormous tits. Fuck! And the dessert? Awf.. shtap. It was like sucking the Easter rabbits nipples drizzled in chocolate syrup.
Take my money! I demand to pay! And pay we did. Then, a quick nip to the ol' head for a pipe squirt and a tingley poop as per usual after a west End Indian, not this time, though. Even my farts smelled like freshly cooked rosewater, cinnamon, and saffron biscuits.
Needless to say.. when we got home, I took my partner's unmentionables off one leg at a time, persevered, sweated, and reached the tunnel of solitude until.. ugh.. silent grace and a peaceful dawn befell unto me, and we reached a sense of true oneness. Thank you, Mr Ananda, for more than just a meal, a new outlook on existence itself. For you I will gladly sleep in a wet patch. read more