this an extract from bombers personal diary i found loafing around whilst tidying up his speedos in the murta hurm, it relates to a chance meeting with a crinkly woman in a bar in St Potan, i have changed the ladies name in order to save her the embarrasment, it is a fascinating insite to the workings of this mans brain



one can only assume after 3 gallon of pastis this is what happened







Bomber stripped off the rest of his clothes, his gaze never left hers, then he streched out beside her, laced his fingers with hers and bought her gnarly fingers up to his lips for a tender kiss, with his other hand he deftly reached into her, the man is smooth he would soon be rewarded, shifting her hand in his she drew them both slowly over the velvet pillows and over her folded skin, up the silken sheets and across her spaniel ear breasts, turning her head towards him she placed an equally tender kiss on bombers beardy lips, "you know" she said in a husky hitherto unheard voice,"slow has its moments but there is a lot to be said for hot and fast"


The silken heat of her drove bomber to the brink, he managed to stave off his own satisfaction only by focussing every ounce of his thoughs on her, her needs, her wants, ignoring the heady scent of floral fragrance and warm woman, he concentrated on finding just the right touch that would please her, make her forget her own name, he elicited moans and sighs, gasps like when he is in the squirrels, but only when he plucked the sweet centre of her with his finger and thumb and drew her nipple deep into his mouth did he find the hot button that made her whole body tense and tighten, victory poured through him for all of two seconds before his own release swamped him forcing them to forget times and names ,
Then he climbed off, rolled over , farted and fell asleep.
She laid quietly smiling to herself, never mind she thought , bomber maybe hung like a chinese mouse but it was worth it for some more Pastis in the Nautile