The Shopkeeper in Jerusalem
I never told this story, because it may be quite disgusting to some. But I have decided to leave the judging to you.
Inspired by a comment from my Swiss penpal.
~ ~ ~
In 2013, when I was strolling around the old town of Jerusalem, a shopkeeper asked me if I had a minute.
I said yes. He invited me into his shop.
He made tea. Showed me his jewelries. Showed me how he made jewelries. Introduced me to different parts of the old town. Introduced me to his shop and his family.
He's a Bedouin. Bedouins were known to be warm and hospitable.
Although his English was limited, we chatted for at least 1.5 hours, in between him dealing with customers.
He asked me how I liked it in bed. He told me how him and his girlfriend did it.
"She's eating when I'm fucking her."
I didn't know how to get out of the shop. He was a big fat guy. His brother was skinny, but a bit taller than me.
Perhaps the universe heard my predicament, because his uncle came to hold an urgent family meeting. I was thus abruptly ejected from the shop.
Inspired by a comment from my Swiss penpal.
~ ~ ~
In 2013, when I was strolling around the old town of Jerusalem, a shopkeeper asked me if I had a minute.
I said yes. He invited me into his shop.
He made tea. Showed me his jewelries. Showed me how he made jewelries. Introduced me to different parts of the old town. Introduced me to his shop and his family.
He's a Bedouin. Bedouins were known to be warm and hospitable.
Although his English was limited, we chatted for at least 1.5 hours, in between him dealing with customers.
He asked me how I liked it in bed. He told me how him and his girlfriend did it.
"She's eating when I'm fucking her."
I didn't know how to get out of the shop. He was a big fat guy. His brother was skinny, but a bit taller than me.
Perhaps the universe heard my predicament, because his uncle came to hold an urgent family meeting. I was thus abruptly ejected from the shop.
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