She was probably about twenty something, with long black hair and dark features. She smiled as she approached me, and as she sat down to print my ticket I caught myself glancing at her stockinged legs. Yes, I am still a man. I thought of exchanging some flirtatious conversation. Something like I said above, in fact.
I did not. However, as I sometimes see the same people occasionally on these trains, I hope she turns up again on my journey, because I will likely say something. Nothing to lose, I don't see her every day so I can't get into trouble.
Today has been nice and quiet, a short day. This is a good thing. Touch wood, only five hours work in the next three days, and then a marathon thirty hours plus from Thursday to Saturday. I will be entirely unavailable for that time, if you wonder. I'm sure you're not.
It's good money, no? Well, yes, but there are still some things to mull over in that area.
Been more horny recently than I think i've ever been. I don't know what it is. I give the demeanour of a calm sea teasing shores, and inside my waves are bursting against rocks. I feel like a beast in chains. I need a fuck.
Oh well, sex is just sex. On it's own I would find it ultimately a tepid experience. It's so hard to find someone entirely on my wavelength, even in Canterbury.
I really do have to get out there next year.
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